Page 21 of To Charm a Dark Prince

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Mordred held the unconscious young woman in his arms as they flew back to his keep. It was likely for the best. Avalon was not what it used to be in days gone by. While flying through the sky at night had once treated the viewer to an array of lights and wonders, now the world beneath him was bleak and dark.

But there was no other choice.

What a curious little marvel he held to his chest, ensuring she did not fall from his dragon as they returned home. She nestled so neatly into him, her cheek resting against his breastplate. She was a welcome distraction.

At least her appearance had finally solved the mystery of where that errant magic had escaped to ten years prior. Now, he simply wanted to knowhowand, perhaps more importantly,whyit had chosen her. And why it had chosen to return here and drag the poor young woman along with it.

There was a spark of pity in him for her. She was frightened beyond her wits. When the gates were open between the worlds, he had seen more than one human lose their composure over the monsters and wonders that Avalon had to offer. It was not wholly unexpected.

But those were days long dead and gone. No one had come to Avalon in hundreds of years—he had seen to it personally. Not until this one. Why? How? And whyher?What an adorable little creature she was at least, he had to admit.

She had a spark to her, buried beneath the terror, that he had seen briefly come to the surface. He found himself wishing to see more of it. Her eyes had been the size of saucers as she had stared at him in abject terror. He wondered what color her eyes had been before they turned a fiery ember. That was, when they were not actually made of flame.

What a sight that had been. A beautiful young woman, chained like a sacrifice to some ancient god, and entirely ablaze with a power that she could not control, nor understand. And despite it all, she had the gall to scold him for executing two fools who had sought to do her harm and to reprimand him for his choice of shackle for her.

Gwendolyn Wright from Earth. An elemental of fire. An escapee by no fault of her own. He should take her to the Crystal and put her with the others. But…

He looked down at her. He could feel the warmth of her through his armor that was not truly armor at all. Even bundled up in Lancelot’s cloak, she was naked beneath and he worried that she might catch a cold. He pulled his cape around them both, hoping to further insulate her from the wind. Creatures of fire could catch such a chill sometimes.

He let out a sigh. He could not help himself. Lifting a hand, he traced the back of one of his claws over her cheek.

Innocent. Naive.Terrified.He smirked. All offered a thrill in their own right. He would not claim that he did not enjoy his intimidating appearance. It was always amusing to see someone gaze at him for the first time in a mix of awe and fear.

But he had also noticed fascination in those red eyes of hers.

There was a mystery to be solved.

If there was treachery involved—if any of his knights or subjects had been to blame for the escape of the magic and now its return—he had to know. Or, even worse, whatever power had escaped from the Crystal had chosen this young woman for its own means. It was clear there was a sentient force behind it. It was clear to him now that it was not merely random energy that had disappeared. But who was it? Who was inspiring all this?

Their goal was obvious—to destroy him and the Crystal. To free those who must, at all costs, remain imprisoned. He could not fully stop them until he knew who they were. She must know something of how she came to Avalon or who was behind it.

No, he would not put her in the Crystal until the player moving their pieces upon the board made themselves known. Mordred could not fight an enemy he did not recognize.

For now, he would keep her safe until the enemy had revealed himself and his path forward was clear.

He could not say he was not a little bit relieved. She would not have been the first soul to go into the Crystal that he regretted condemning to an eternity in confinement. But he could avoid it this time for a short while.

He tucked a strand of her hair carefully behind her ear. It was such a beautiful array of colors. He assumed it would change again, along with the rest of her form. Elementals were bound to change their shape.

An errant thought entered his mind, and he pushed it away as quickly as it had come.

No.

He would not let himself hope.

He wouldnotallow it.

He did not know Gwendolyn Wright. She could be a spy. He could not trust her. He couldnotallow himself to believe that he…

No.

Grimacing, he stared into the cold wind and let the iciness of it force his thoughts elsewhere. Gwendolyn Wright would be an amusing distraction and a clue to a mystery he had puzzled over for a decade. That was all.

* * *

I’m so sick of this shit.

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