Page 38 of Queen Takes Camelot: Gwen
“I’ll give you want you want. I’ll help you bring Camelot back.”
He yawned, gaping his mouth wide so that I would flinch back in fear. “What is it that I want, Guinevere? I want to hear you say it.”
“I will marry you, Arthur. I will be your queen and wife again. I ask only that you spare my Blood.”
“Hmmmm,” he drawled out a rumbling sigh. “I’m afraid it’s probably too late for poor Mordred. I believe he’s beyond even Guinevere’s healing, my dear, and if you’re a shell of her, then he’s surely dead.”
I closed my eyes and let my emotions wash over me. Tears. Trembling lips. Shuddering breath. I didn’t hide how much the thought of losing him hurt me, though I held his bond tighter in my mind.:Don’t listen to him, Mordred. I can and will heal you. I promise.:
“Lance,” I ground out. “Bors. Merlin. Spare them, at least.”
Arthur turned slitted dragon eyes on Lance. “Alphas and kings rarely get along.”
:Especially when said king is a psychotic asshole,:Bors growled in our bonds.
“Besides, I have to fulfill my promise to the Lady of Shalott.”
He didn’t give a crap about keeping his promises. We all knew it. He’d lied and cheated and conned his way through Camelot even before the shining walls fell.
Lance didn’t say a word, but a quiver rocked his entire frame before he managed to conceal it. “If it means my queen lives and the rest of her Blood are allowed to guard her, then you can do whatever you wish with me.”
A rumbling purr rolled from the dragon’s chest. “Prove it.”
Lance gathered up my hand and raised my knuckles to his mouth. “My queen.”
Then my shining knight released me and strode toward his greatest nightmare. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t glance back over his shoulder at me.
He dropped down on one knee before Elaine and bowed his head. “My lady, how may I serve?”
Outwardly, he looked completely calm and reserved. But his bond iced over in my head. Blizzard winds blew blinding snow through his mind. So cold. Frozen. Dead.
Lancelot du Lac would always defend me. His honor demanded nothing less than perfect chivalry and love.
Even if it meant surrendering to our enemy to make sure that I lived.
“Lancelot,” she whispered reverently. “Is it really you?”
“It is I, my lady.” To most people, his demeanor would have looked normal. But I heard the slight catch in each word. The shallow, too rapid breaths. She held her hand out to him and he took it, though he couldn’t hide the slight tremble in his fingers. He even kissed the back of her hand, though he kept his head low.
Hiding the frozen dread and horror in his eyes. Though knowing her, she would probably relish that look of fear in his eyes as much as Arthur wanted mine.
“It’s your turn, my dear,” the dragon drawled in a voice that oozed with slimy satisfaction.
Head high, I slowly walked toward him. Tears dripped down my cheeks, but I went as calmly and proudly as Lance had gone toher. I curtsied, albeit stiffly, and managed to ground out, “My lord.”
He lowered his massive head and deliberately blew smoke in my face. Choking, I turned my head away, but I didn’t take a step back or flinch. One big paw settled over my shoulder, claws digging into my flesh.
He didn’t care that I bled.
An Aima queen, descended from the goddess, ripe with the power of my Blood.
He. Didn’t. Care.
Fool.
I didn’t act. Yet. For all I knew, it was a deliberate ploy to get me to betray myself, so he’d have a reason to kill my Blood one by one while making me watch.
One talon snagged the bodice of my gown, giving it a teasing tug. Cheeks burning, I pushed his giant paw away. “At least shift back before you touch me.”
