Page 89 of The Sword & the Stone

I felt a chill run down my spine. The grove around us seemed to grow quieter, as if the very trees were listening. "What do you mean by multiple presences?" Lance asked, his eyes narrowing.

Tristan ran a hand through his silvery hair, searching for the right words. "It was as if…as if the old gods of Avalon were speakingthroughher. I felt their power entwined with hers, but it was distinctlyother."

The fire crackled, sending sparks spiraling into the twilight sky. I watched them dance among the twinkling stars. "Could it be possible?" I mused aloud. "For the old gods to...inhabit her like that? I thought they were long dead by now."

Merlin ran a hand over his face in exhaustion. "There are legends," he said slowly, "of the old gods sometimes usingmortal vessels to communicate. But it's extremely rare, and usually only happens in times of great need."

"I can't stop seeing it," Galahad said. His usually cheerful face was drawn with worry. "The way she fell...I've never been so terrified in all my centuries."

We'd all been fools. So caught up in our centuries-old dream of returning home that we'd nearly lost the woman who each of us craved down to the marrow of our fucking bones.

"I'm not going back," Percival said suddenly, and we all turned to face him. "To Avalon, I mean. Not if it means leaving her."

"Neither am I," Galahad chimed in, his usual jovial self replaced by something harder, more determined. "Arthur is everything I want in a mate, and I’m not going to betray her like that. There’s nothing for me in Avalon without her."

My chest swelled with pride for my brothers. I’d made the decision to stay with Arthur the moment she slipped from that cliffside. It wouldn’t have mattered to me what anyone else chose. I loved Arthur Pendragon and would make her my mate.

I looked at Lancelot as he glared at the flames. Lancelot, who’d sworn off love nearly eight hundred years ago, when a woman he thought he’d loved mated another male. We were still young, but the sting of it followed him for centuries.

He breathed in deeply, his fingers absently tracing patterns in the velvety moss beneath him. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried such raw emotion that we all leaned in to listen. "I've spent centuries convinced that love was a weakness. I thought I'd found it once, and I swore I'd never let myself be that vulnerable again."

The grove seemed to hold its breath as he spoke; the flowers pulsed softly in time with his words. Even the whispering leaves of the midnight-blue trees stilled, as if nature itself was listeningto this confession. A confession I never thought I’d hear from my oldest friend.

"I love her," he said, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with conviction. "Gods fucking help me."

Galahad let out a low whistle. "Well, I'll be gods damned," he said, a hint of his usual mischief returning. "The great Sir Lancelot, felled by a pair of pretty brown eyes.”

Lance threw a loose stone at Gal, and it hit him squarely on the forehead. “Fuck off, Gal.”

"I've loved Arthur since we were children," Merlin suddenly confessed, staring into the dancing flames. "All those years, watching her struggle on the streets, I wanted to protect her, to give her the life she deserved. We raised and protected each other. She made sure nobody knew of my magic and never judged me for it. When Mordred came along, I was weak. I used her to fill the loneliness, but in my mind, in my heart, it was always Arthur."

I felt a pang of sympathy for the sorcerer. To love someone for so long, to watch them from afar, unable to act on those feelings. It must have been torture.

Merlin looked up then, his gaze sweeping over each of us. "I never imagined I'd have to compete with five fae knights for her heart," he said with a wry, humorless chuckle. "The irony isn't lost on me."

"None of us are competing anymore. Not for Arthur's heart, not for her attention, not for anything. And good thing too, because I’d hate to be the sad sack who had to compete with me.” I wiggled my brows and Galahad scoffed. "She's a queen,” I continued as Merlin met my eyes from under his hood. “Chosen by fate and blessed by magic older than any of us can comprehend."

I plucked another glowing flower, its petals unfurling at my touch. "You saw what happened today. The old gods themselvesspoke through her and used her as a vessel. That's not something that happens to just anyone. Arthur deserves to be worshipped by all of us."

Chapter Thirty-Three

ARTHUR

My new wingstwitched against my back as I woke the next day, still unfamiliar but already feeling like an integral part of me. Cold air rushed over my exposed skin where they’d torn the back of my tunic to make room.

I sat up slowly, my muscles protesting the movement. They were heavy, and I could already tell that my body was going to be off balance for a while. I needed to learn how to put them away.

Near the center of our camp, I could see my knights and Merlin gathered around the magical fire that still burned without smoke. Tristan was kneeling beside it, his graceful hands moving with practice ease as he prepared tea.

I heard every word they spoke last night when they thought I was sleeping. Every. Single. Word. My belly flipped over at the memory of each of their declarations. Nerves skittered down my spine. All six men were in love with me. Five ancient fae warriors and a powerful druid sorcerer. How the hell did this happen?

I’d never experienced real love from anyone before, except perhaps from Merlin. But I never thought he felt that way aboutme. Not until the night he snuck into my chambers in the palace. From the moment he saved me after the fire in our old village, I knew I loved him. Every day, every hour, every second, my love for him only grew stronger.

And my knights…what I felt for them transcended logic. It was insane to fall in love with six men at once, wasn’t it?

Gawain caught my attention and grinned, his steel-gray eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good morning, sleepy faerie. Care to join us for some tea?"

I nodded, pushing myself to my feet. My wings unfurled instinctively, catching the breeze and sending a shiver down my spine that went everywhere. It was like trying to balance with a second set of arms attached.

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