Page 79 of To Charm a Dark Prince

“Then let’s make it a fair competition, eh? Let me train her this afternoon instead and show her some kindness.” Lancelot grinned through the pain. “Or are you too set on pleasuring yourself to the sound of her agony?”

Mordred slammed his other fist into the man’s head. Lancelot staggered and fell to the ground, groaning. Mordred cracked his knuckles and readied himself for a brawl. “Enough.”

“Then deny it. Deny you do not hurt her for your own gratification.”

“Her pain brings me no pleasure.” Mordred clenched his fists at his sides.

“Then why would you seek her out so frequently, if—oh.Oh.” Lancelot lifted a hand to show surrender. “It is more than lust.” He sat back on his heels before climbing to his feet. “By God, Mordred—do not tell me youloveher.” He laughed.

“Do not be a fool.” Mordred turned his back on Lancelot, having enough of the mockery. The knight was no threat to him, save to his mood. “Begone. I am done with you.”

Lancelot was already heading to the exit. “I do not know who I pity more then. Her, for being bound for the Crystal—or you, when you finally lose someone you love to your own tyranny.”

Mordred tightened his hands into fists. With a snarl, he picked up his empty glass and hurled it against the wall, watching it rain down to the ground as shards and specks.

Damn that forsaken knight. Damn the prince who ruled him.Damn them all to the hells where they belonged.

TWENTY-THREE

Gwen was almost happy for the distraction of “training” with Mordred. She really thought of it more as getting beaten up, but she supposed it was the same thing in his mind. And she wasn’t the only one who was grumpy after their trip to the city and the ruins of Camelot. Walking into the circular courtyard, wearing her metal clothing, she pulled up short.

Uh oh.

Mordred was in amoodagain.She could tell by the way he was holding himself. And that was going to be very bad for her. Taking a sword from the rack by the wall, he threw it at her feet. “We will start by reviewing yesterday’s lessons.”

“More like yesterday’s bruises,” she grumbled, as she picked up the weapon. “You okay?”

He ignored her question. “If you do not wish to be battered about so much, then I suggest you learn faster.” His clothing shifted to his full armor, and she shivered at the sight of him without meaning to. God, he was so damn tall. Tall andpointy.Caliburn appeared in the air beside him, and he grasped the hilt that she knew was meant to be handled with two hands, though he could wield it with one.

When he came at her, she did the only logical thing she could think of—she kept dodging out of the way. He was swinging the blade with a vengeance. He probably thought he was going easy on her. To her, it looked like he was legit trying to slice her in half.

She squeaked as his blade sliced the air beside her, close enough that she could feel it. “Hey!”

“Defend yourself, Gwendolyn.”

“I’m trying!”

“Try harder.”

When she stumbled, he used the opportunity to get in close and, using his elbow, knocked her to the ground. Her sword landed in the sand beside her as she landed hard on her ass with anunf.She only managed to push herself up onto her elbows before his blade was resting against her throat. She shivered again. “We’ve been through this. I can’t beat you, Mordred.”

“You say that, but I do not think you believe it. You cannot defeat me, Gwendolyn Wright. Not with a blade and not with your fire. Do you understand?” That was the Mordred people were used to dealing with. The Prince in Iron.

She wished she could crawl into the ground and stay there. She felt so small. “I…I do.”

“Then tell me what kind of schemes you have been working behind my back.” He stepped over her, his feet on either side of her thighs. “Tell me what you have been hiding from me.”

She hesitated. Telling him the truth was going to get everyone in a lot of trouble. Including herself. Mostly herself, if she were being honest.

At her silence, he snarled. He moved the blade away from her throat only to replace it with his gauntlet. He reached down and grasped her by the iron around her neck and hefted her roughly to her feet. When he pushed her away, he held the necklace in his fist. He tossed it aside. “Then I will teach you this lesson again. Now you are free to use your flame. Do so. Fight me.”

“I—but—” She yelped as he swung his sword at her. She staggered back, catching on fire as she did. Panic was starting to well in her chest, more proof that she was actually useless and everybody’s hope in her was sorely misplaced. “Please, I—”

Any thought in her head that he wasn’t really going to hurt her was gone the moment he swung for her with seemingly redoubled efforts. She dodged, but his sword nicked her arm. She hissed in pain, placing her hand to the burning surface. What came away in her palm looked like molten lava. It hissed when it touched the ground. “Mordred, please wait—”

“No.” He didn’t even give her a second to deal with the cut before going at her again. She staggered out of the way, struggling to stay out of the reach of his enormous sword.

Without thinking—without really understanding what she was doing—she pushed her hands toward him, just needing him tofucking stop.A roar of fire filled the air as a huge blast of flame left her hands and hit him head-on like it had come from a flamethrower. For a moment, Mordred was obscured by dark smoke.

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