Page 21 of To Love a Dark Lord

“All I did to contain the wrath of the elementals was for them, and you see how they still fear and loathe me?” He grimaced. His hand tightened around hers, but it didn’t feel affectionate. “Three hundred years of peace I gave this world. Three hundred. And it has earned me nothing but suffering. I should have let them all burn.”

Fear twisted in her stomach as she remembered her promise to Bert and the others about putting down Mordred if she had to. “Hey—” She pulled him to a stop, turning him to face her. “You don’t mean that.”

His gaze bored through her like liquid metal. “Perhaps I do. Perhaps I finally understand.”

“They’re just—look. When you put the elementals away, you put a lot of other magical people in there too. Villagers and the like. They were scared.” She picked his hands up in hers and held them, heavy as they were, close to her. “Bert was in hiding all that time because he had enough magic that you’d probably have chucked him in there too. I don’t blame them for being afraid of you. They don’t know you. Not like I do.”

“You believe I am somehow different than the monster they see in me?” He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, gently tracing the metal point of his thumb along her skin.

“No.” She met his gaze. “I know who you are. I know what you are. I just know that isn’t the whole story. There’s so much more to you than what they see. You may be a monster, but for fuck’s sake, you’re my monster, and I’m not going to let?—”

Mordred cut her off as he tipped her head to his. He leaned down to kiss her, capturing her lips in a searing embrace that seemed to search for something—anything—to hold onto. And she gave him all that she could. Every ounce of hope, every ounce of love, every ounce of need for him that she owned.

When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I will be as strong as I can be, my love. I will try to hold against this storm until you find me.”

“I promise I’m going to find you. I’m going to free you. But if—if Galahad doesn’t help me…”

“I will do everything to try to discern anything about my location from within here.”

“I mean, the Crystal is still yours, right?” She looked up at him. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, feel where it is?”

He furrowed his brow slightly. “Yes? What do you—” He paused. “Ah. Yes. I suppose that makes perfect sense.” He chuckled quietly. “I do not know why I did not think of that.”

“You’ve been a little busy.” She looked into the fog after the line of knights that were now long gone. “I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

“As am I. But perhaps it will provide me some deeper understanding.” He straightened his shoulders, cracking his neck from one side to the other. “For better or worse.” He turned his attention toward the direction the knights had gone. “You should not linger here long. I cannot imagine it is doing you any kindness. You will need your rest for what is to come. Return to me tomorrow night, and I will tell you what I have discerned, if anything.”

“I love you, Mordred. Please, be strong.”

He rested his palm to her cheek again. “My sweet Gwendolyn, who took pity on a monster. How could I leave you now? You will have need of the darkness soon enough.”

She blinked. “Wh?—”

She never got to ask him what he meant.

Everything faded into the fog.

EIGHT

Gwen didn’t need proof of what the elementals were capable of.

But she found herself staring at it all the same.

The city was in ruins.

And all those who lived there were slaughtered.

There was no way around it. No other words to describe the horrors in front of her. They’d known something was wrong the moment they crested a hill and saw the smoke pouring up from the buildings, black and thick. Bert had frantically kicked at his horse, sending it into a gallop down the hill toward the carnage. She had screamed at him to stop, but it was too late.

By the time they had all caught up with him, he was standing in the middle of the town square, staring at the desolation. His leather gloves covered in black soot. He must have gone searching for survivors.

A huge trench of volcanic rock sliced through several of the stone buildings. Others looked like they had been smashed through by a wrecking ball.

She recognized an elemental lying dead in the center of one of the volcanic pools. She hadn’t known their name, but they were present at Mordred’s sentencing. Their eyes gazed sightlessly up at the sky, which was a beautiful blue to mock the carnage around them. The sun was desperately trying to shine through the haze of the smoke.

Scattered about the ruins, or blocking off alleys, was another clue to what might have happened—thorns. Thick branches of twisting bramble, covered in vicious barbs the size of her hand. Where they hadn’t been burned away, they covered the sides of buildings, of carts, and even the remains of a horse that lay crumpled where it fell.

“Is—is there anyone?” Lina asked Bert. “Anyone at all?”

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