Page 48 of To Love a Dark Lord

A large boulder was the only defining element that made this area of the woods remarkable enough that he might recognize it a second time. That being said, it was nothing more than a normal rock. He could not for the life of him say why Zoe had brought them there. But he knew better than to ask. All would become clear in time.

Zoe fluttered her wings. They shimmered in the moonlight, reminding him of the stars themselves, as she settled down to the grass in front of the stone. She smiled at it. “The heart of Avalon’s magic.”

“It is… a rock.”

Zoe glanced at him over her shoulder. “Yes. I am aware.” She smiled. “It is not the first time a stone has come into focus in our lore.” She placed her hand on the surface of the stone. “It was from this place that I drew Caliburn, so long ago. A piece of Avalon itself—a shard of the bleeding heart of this island. And it was to this place that its magic returned when Mordred sundered the blade.” She turned to face him. “And from here I shall call forth that power again.”

Galahad felt a coldness settle over him. “You plan to wield the blade?”

“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “For I am the rightful Queen of Avalon. The blade and the crown are mine to claim. It is time that this world has the ruler it deserves. I had hoped that Mordred would become that which Arthur wished him to be. But now I see it shall never come to pass.”

This was a terrible idea. Even wielding the ancient blade of Avalon, it was dangerous. Zoe was powerful, but she was not invincible. Gwendolyn had proven that well enough. Could his love stand against Mordred and the new witch and their respective armies?

And would he join her at her side?

Or, could he stop her if he wished—could he drive a dagger into her heart?

By all the old ones and all the Ba’na’ir of his people, he knew he could not. To kill her would be to destroy himself. He had sworn himself to her, and he could not fail her now.

A gentle hand rested against his cheek. He opened his eyes and met the magenta-pink orbs of hers, so full of love. So full of compassion. She would rule Avalon with kindness. It meant destroying Mordred and Gwendolyn—and that was a tragedy he would bear until the end of his days.

But his choice had been made.

Now, he must play his part.

He dropped to one knee in front of the Gossamer Lady and bowed his head.

“Mordred must not be given time to rally any forces.” Zoe drifted away, back to the stone. “Let us begin now.”

SEVENTEEN

“I’m coming with you.”

Mordred let out a breath, shutting his eyes. He had believed he had escaped without waking Gwendolyn, but he was mistaken. It was the middle of the night, and the moon was high, casting pale shadows as though the sun itself were caught in a dream. He had been about to climb onto the saddle of his stallion.

Dragons were not precisely the right method of approach for an assassination, after all.

Thorn was camped about a night’s ride away from them with her forces. And he planned to end her before she attacked his keep for a second time. Once, he would have thought it cowardly—ignoble—to strike an enemy in the dead of night like a thief.

Now, he could not care less. No—that was not true.

He was rather looking forward to it.

Turning, he watched Gwendolyn pull on a thick coat that had two slits up the back to allow her wings to trail behind her like a cape. Her breath turned to fog in the chill, nearly winter air. Clouds were still moving in—there would be snow, soon.

“You should stay. You will not like what you witness.”

Shrugging, she looked off into the field. “My dad used to say, ‘You can’t eat your steak and pretend you don’t know what happened to the cow.’ I’m coming.”

“A wise man. A shame I will never have the chance to meet him.” He mounted his stallion, turning the horse toward the open gate.

“You’re not going to argue with me?”

“I know better than to attempt to turn your mind from something it is set upon. I recommend you saddle a horse quickly, however—I will not wait long for you.” Was he annoyed? Yes. Was he looking forward to Gwendolyn’s reaction to watching him murder Thorn and whatever elementals were foolish enough not to run from him? No.

But she was correct. If she was to stand at his side, and be his queen, she should know. She should witness it firsthand, what it meant to rule. What it meant to keep Avalon peaceful.

He expected her to go into the stables and fetch her favorite mare. Instead, she held out her hand in front of her and, with a twist, summoned a horse from the ground. He watched and had to admire how far she had come since her arrival. She had been so terrified of everything, even her own powers.

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