Page 36 of To Charm a Dark Prince

He was gaining her trust so that she told him the true story of her arrival to Avalon.

That was the excuse he had made for himself.

But perhaps it was far more insidious than that.

“I will warn you now.” He grazed the back of one of his claws over her cheek. He trailed down the line of her neck before hooking the blade underneath her iron necklace. The latch in the back let go upon his silent command. He placed the necklace on the table beside them. “I do not plan to take pity upon you.”

“I—oh. Um. I mean. Okay?” Her cheeks reddened, much to his delight. It was clear to him that the attraction was mutual. But he would not be a brute. The young thing was overwhelmed enough as it was.

He took a step back from her. He needed to put distance between them. He needed her to understand who he was. He shrugged out of his cloak and threw it over the table and picked up a sword from the rack. It was small and light—it would suit her well enough.

He knew he was being harsh with her. But perhaps it was best to force a wedge between them earlier rather than later. Galahad was right—entanglements with the young woman would lead to painful complications. “You are eager to know of my history with my uncle, are you not?”

“I—I mean, yeah, he was King Arthur.” She chuckled.

“Well. You know of his legendary sword?”

“Excalibur?”

“Caliburn. What that Frenchman did to the story I will never quite understand.” He gestured his hand in the air. He summoned his blade and it shimmered into existence beside him, floating and awaiting his command. “But it is the same blade. My uncle gifted it to me when he passed.”

Gwendolyn’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Whoa…” She blinked as she started to put two and two together. “What does this have to do with training me?”

He threw the smaller blade to the ground at her feet. “Pick it up.”

Hesitating for a moment, she reached down and did as he said. By the Ancients, her form wasatrocious.They would have a lot of work to do. “I—but—okay, but what’s this have to do with—me being trained as an elemental?”

“Discipline.” In more ways than one.

“I don’t know how to fight.”

“That is about to change.” He flicked his wrist, and Caliburn spun in the air, pointing straight at her. “Defend yourself.”

“What?”

The sword flew at her.

Gwen screamed.

ELEVEN

Gwen ran.

Tripped.

And ate the dirt like a goddamn champ.

She rolled onto her back, though she couldn’t have told anybody why she wanted to see the giant sword that was about to murder her. Covering her head with her arms, she waited for the stabbing pain of being skewered by a floating sword.

When she wasn’t pinned into the dirt by an enormous mythical blade, she lowered her arms. She saw the point of the weapon floating inches away from her face. With a squeak, she burst into flames.

Mordred laughed.

“It’s not funny!” She glared at him as best she could.

“It really rather is.” The blade retreated.

Sitting up, she looked down at her arms that were ablaze and let out a heavy, annoyed sigh. “I’m a flaming pufferfish.”

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