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The shining white dragon with fluttering butterfly wings hovered closer to our queen and bowed her head to lay her cheek against Gwen’s. “You are no shell, Gwenhwyfar. I am honored to call you daughter of my daughters. You accomplished what countless queens who came before you could not.”

Wings outspread, the dragon soared up into the air, glowing brighter and brighter. So fierce and intense that I had to turn my head. So much power. No wonder Arthur had been so incredibly strong. He’d had Guinevere trapped in the ring all these centuries, using her power to sustain himself.

I fully expected the dragon to go soaring off toward the tower, but a white cannonball shot down from the sky, straight toward Gwen. Wings tucked tight, the dragon slammed into my queen, knocking her off her feet.

We caught her, all four of us. She would never fall as long as we lived. For a moment, the butterfly wings gleamed around her, and then the dragon sank deeper into her body.

“Wow,” she breathed, eyes shining with the glow of Guinevere’s dragon.

We pressed closer to her. Holding her. Drinking in her scent. Her touch. Her love.

Arthur dropped to his hands and knees, crawling frantically across the cobblestones until he found the ring. He slipped it on his hand and let out a ragged cry. “No. It’s gone. The power is gone!”

Without her request, I helped Gwen regain her footing, though none of us rose from our knees. “The power isn’t gone, Arthur. It’s just not yours any longer.”

Before our eyes, the once and future king shrank. No longer tall and strong and young. His dark hair thinned and grayed. His arrogant, handsome face sagged into the heavy jowls of a man who’d indulged for decades. Wine, drugs, women, violence. All the vices were written in his reddened complexion and puffy skin.

“I demand that you return what you’ve stolen from me,” he retorted. “We had a deal. I spared your Blood! You can’t do this to me!”

Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Oh? I can’t? I don’t recall any deal. Do you, Lance?”

“Actually, my queen, I do recall something…”

Arthur smoothed his greasy, sparse hair back from his face and lowered his chin belligerently. “See? I told you. Evenheremembers. Youoweme, Guinevere.”

“You’re right. I do owe you. I owe you vengeance.” Turning to me, she cupped my cheek. “Would you do me the great honor of acting as my champion, Sir Lancelot?”

I closed my fingers around hers and lifted her hand to my mouth, pressing a kiss against her palm. “It would be my greatest honor, my queen.”

Arthur sputtered. “You can’t possibly be serious. A challenge? I don’t have a champion! This is ridiculous! I don’t even have a sword!”

She tipped her head toward the Chalice Well. In a few moments, a glowing sword floated past us to hover before Arthur.

I hadn’t seen the weapon with my own eyes before, but there could be no doubt that it was the greatest sword ever forged. Excalibur. It screamed its famous name, slowly spinning in midair. Silvery-blue runes glistened up and down its perfect blade. A large white crystal spun rainbows from its pommel.

Even in this day and age, humans remembered the legendary tale of Arthur pulling the sword from the stone.

Thissword.

I had the insane urge to kiss the cold steel of its blade and beg its forgiveness for even thinking of challenging its bearer.

Grimacing, Arthur wrapped his hand around the great sword’s hilt as skillfully as a toddler picking up a fork for the first time. “Very well. I hate to make you cry on our wedding day, Guinevere.”

The idiot still thought he could win. A challenge. Against Lancelot du Lac?

Bors snorted. Merlin licked his lips, eyes shining hungrily.

Mordred looked around at all of us let out a disgusted grunt. “Fucking hell. Didn’t anyone bring popcorn?”

“My name is Gwen,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “Oh, the confidence of a mediocre asshole used to getting everything he’s ever wanted thanks to someone else’s gifts.”

I climbed to my feet and unsheathed my sword. “I’ve waited over a thousand years to do this.”

Arthur sneered at me. “To challenge me?”

I smiled and raised the sword over my shoulder, gripping it lightly in both hands. “No. To kill you.”

* * *