Page 67 of The Sword & the Stone

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I think you’ve had enough wine for now, Wart.”

Galahad cocked his head, his eyes bouncing between us. “Why do you call her Wart?”

Merlin smirked. "It's a nickname from when we were kids at the orphanage," he explained, his blue eyes twinkling with nostalgia. "Arthur has this little dark freckle under her eye, see?” He ran a thumb gently under my eye. “I used to tease her mercilessly about it."

I groaned, covering my face with my hands as the memory flooded back. "Ugh, don't remind me. You were such a brat. Actually, you still are a brat."

Merlin grinned wider, reaching over to tug my hands away from my face. His fingers lingered on the freckle in question, tracing it gently. "The other kids used to tell her she was kissed by the faeries."

Gawain snorted, arching a dark brow. “I’d say she’d been kissed by a few faeries…” Again, Tristan smacked him across the back of the head.

“Can I ask the lady for a dance?” came an unfamiliar voice, causing all the knights to go utterly still and silent.

A tall, striking fae man with hair the color of burnished bronze and eyes like molten amber stood before us, his hand outstretched towards me in invitation. His chiseled featureswere accentuated by the intricate bronze runes that swirled across his sun-kissed skin, catching the flickering firelight. He wore loose linen trousers slung low on his hips and a sheer, open vest that did little to conceal his sculpted chest and abdomen.

He was handsome, objectively, but he didn’t cause my belly to flutter like it did with my knights and my sorcerer.

I felt the knights tense around me, their postures shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant. Merlin's hand tightened on my waist, his fingers digging in possessively. Percy's shadows swirled around us, agitated and ready to strike. Lancelot and Gawain exchanged a look, their jaws clenched and eyes hard. Galahad's hand drifted to the hilt of a dagger he wore, his knuckles white. Tristan's gaze was assessing, calculating, as if trying to determine the level of threat this newcomer posed.

The fae man seemed unfazed by the sudden tension, his amber eyes locked on mine as he waited patiently for my response. I knew it would be considered a grave insult to refuse his request, especially as a guest in the Seelie Court. The last thing I wanted was to cause offense or create a diplomatic incident over a simple dance.

I placed my hand on Merlin's thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze as I rose gracefully to my feet. “One dance is all I can promise before my mates decide to intervene.”

Behind me, several of my men sucked in sharp breaths at my use of the term mates. It had slipped out by accident, but I wasn’t going to bother taking it back. I could feel the knights' gazes burning into my back as I accepted the fae man's outstretched hand, allowing him to guide me towards the swirling throng of dancers.

As we stepped into the crowd of dancing fae, the music shifted, the haunting melody growing more sensual, more primal. The drums pulsed with a deep, throbbing rhythm that seemed to echo the beating of my heart. Fae all around usmoved with an otherworldly grace, their bodies undulating and entwining in a dance that was both beautiful and erotic.

My partner pulled me close, one hand resting on the small of my back while we began to move, our bodies swaying in perfect sync to the hypnotic beat. The music was so much more wild than anything that existed in Albion. So free, fast, and raw.

"I'm Keir," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. His breath was warm, smelling faintly of cinnamon. It took everything in me not to flinch away from him, and to stay as friendly as I could manage. "And you, of course, are Arthur Pendragon, daughter of Morrigan. Your presence here has caused quite the stir."

I tilted my head back to meet his gaze, a small smirk playing at the corners of my mouth. "Is that so? And what have you heard, exactly?"

Keir spun me out then back in, dipping me low before pulling me flush against his body. His hand splayed across my lower back, fingers grazing the bare skin exposed by my backless dress. "Some say you're the key to everything."

I laughed, the sound musical and carefree even as my mind raced. I didn't like the way he said "key", as if I was an object to be wielded rather than a person with agency. "And what do you believe, Keir?" I asked, arching a brow as we moved together, our hips rolling in tandem.

Over his shoulder, I locked eyes with Lancelot. He and the rest of my men stood shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed over their chests as they watched us dance. His eyes were narrowed on Keir’s hand.

"I believe," he murmured, his hand sliding lower to rest just above the curve of my ass, "that you are a woman of immense power and potential. And that many will seek to harness that power for their own gain."

I tensed, my eyes narrowing. "I am no one's pawn," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "And I don't take kindly to those who would seek to use me."

Keir's lips curved into a smile. "Of course not.” His smile was sharp and cunning, his amber eyes glinting with a hint of malice. "I would never dream of using you, Arthur Pendragon. I merely wish to...appreciate you."

His hand slid lower, cupping the curve of my ass in a bold, possessive gesture. I stiffened, anger and disgust flaring hot in my veins. Keir leaned in, his lips a hairsbreadth from mine. But before they could make contact, something deep within me snapped. It was like a dam bursting.

A surge of raw, primal magic exploded from my core, a searing golden light that enveloped me like a second skin. It crackled and danced across my flesh, ancient runes flaring to life in a dazzling display of power. The very air around us seemed to shimmer and pulse with the force of it, the ground trembling beneath our feet.

Keir's eyes widened in shock and fear as he stumbled back, his hands raised in a futile attempt to shield himself from the onslaught of my magic. But it was too late. A bolt of pure, molten energy shot from my outstretched palm, striking him square in the chest with the force of a battering ram.

He flew backwards, his body hurtling through the air like a rag doll. Fae scrambled out of the way, their faces a mix of awe and terror as Keir crashed to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs. He skidded across the earth, leaving a deep furrow in his wake, before coming to a stop at the base of a towering tree.

The music came to a sudden halt, the silence that followed deafening. Every eye was fixed on me as the air crackled with tension and anticipation of a fight.

Keir groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows. He looked around, taking in the shocked faces of the gathered fae, theexpectant hush that had fallen over the clearing. For a moment, he seemed poised on the brink of retaliation, his eyes flashing with humiliation and fury.

Then, to my surprise, he threw his head back and laughed. The sound was rich and deep. He climbed to his feet, brushing dirt and leaves from his clothing with an air of nonchalance.

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