A Beautiful Knight (The Cursed Kingdom #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

DUNIMARLE CASTLE

CULROSS, SCOTLAND

G avin Campbell clenched his jaw, steeling himself for the agony he knew was coming. Every time he ripped through the veil between the alter-world and modern-day Scotland, searing pain tore through him. Returning was even worse, a brutal wrenching that left him gasping, the force growing stronger with each leap, stripping him of any semblance of control.

But there was no turning back. If he ever wanted to escape the centuries-long torment that had shackled him, he had to endure it. The faintest glimmer of hope flickered on the horizon—a way out, a chance to break free—but it came with a heavy price. Doubt gnawed at him, whispering that this could be his last shot, and it would be anything but easy. Yet he had no choice. The clock was ticking, and his time was running out.

As he fell through a tunnel of twirling lights, a sensation like that of a wind both pushing and pulling came over him and Gavin squeezed his eyes shut. Keeping them open would not only make him dizzy, but very possibly throw up.

For decades, he and four others had been trapped in a twisted alter-world by the dark wizard Meliot, each day a fresh torment in a realm far from the reality they’d once known. Here, they were subjected to relentless torture, forced into fruitless quests, and haunted by Meliot’s hollow promises of freedom—a freedom that seemed forever just out of reach. Desperation gnawed at him, his resolve worn thin, yet he knew he had to escape…or be lost to this nightmare forever.

This was the opportunity he and the other three men trapped had to grasp. Each of them had a different curse looming over them, a different obstacle and would require a different enchantress to break them free.

Though the woman who called to him was deeply entwined with his fate—likely the key to breaking his curse—Gavin couldn’t bring himself to focus on his own freedom. As much as he longed for release, he was determined to first help the other three men who were also trapped.

To break his curse meant facing an impenetrable barrier of memories, a past he had spent lifetimes trying to forget, filled with shadows he dared not confront. The thought of it unnerved him more than the curse itself.

Preparing for what undoubtedly would be a very awkward landing as he’d never mastered the art of balance, Gavin grunted as he once again became corporeal and on cue stumbled and landed on something soft. Whatever it was began to flail.

“Aaah!” A muffled squawk came from under him.

Her muffled words didn’t need to be heard clearly to know they were curses as the person struggled. Unfortunately, his body was like an unmovable stone as Gavin became accustomed to being in a different place. Not only that, but it felt as if his muscles and tendons pulled away from his bones, the pain just a hair below intolerable.

Grunting and groaning, Gavin tried his best to roll off of the woman he’d landed on, recognizable by the few strands of fiery red hair sticking out from under him.

As fate would have it, he’d fallen atop of Sabrina Lockhart—of all people—who was meant to be his rescuer, assuming he didn’t end up killing her first. The fiery woman was destined to break the spell that bound him and three others, trapping them for eternity in the alter-world.

The pain subsided as quickly as it came, and he finally managed to roll and sit on the floor, still unsure of his ability to stand.

After a brief struggle, Sabrina scrambled to her feet, her eyes flashing with annoyance as she motioned around her wildly. “Look around you, Goldie, this room is huge. Did you have to land on me? You could have killed me, you oaf!”

Too stunned to move, Gavin watched her from his sitting position on the floor.

The beauty glared down at him, arms crossed, foot tapping, eyes narrowed. “I don’t get this whole willing yourself places, but it would seem you should be able to pick the place to land.”

Coming to his rescue, Laird Tristan McRainey, who had also been trapped with him in the alter-world until recently, held out a hand. Gavin grabbed it and got to his feet.

“Are you all right Gavin?” Gwen, Tristan’s partner, asked, pushing past a still glowering Sabrina.

Gwen gave her sister a patient look. “He didn’t do it on purpose. It’s not like they can specify where they materialize. You should be kinder. As you can see, the poor man is in pain.”

“I am glad not to have hurt you. What Gwyneth states is true. I cannot choose exactly where to appear,” Gavin added.

She merely grunted and regarded him for a moment. “It took you long enough. We’ve been trying to summon you for almost two weeks.”

“That is strange, I did not sense anything,” he replied honestly, locking eyes with her. For a moment, something flickered in her gaze, almost as if she wanted to say something, but then she looked away.

“Please sit Gavin,” Tristan motioned to a chair, while he went to pour drinks.

The Laird looked very different from the last time Gavin had seen him, now dressed in the style of the current time in denim pants and a long sleeve pullover. His hair was different as well, trimmed into a modern haircut.

Since they’d been trapped and forever locked in the sixteen hundreds, he and the others had barely changed their form of dress.

“How have you and the others been faring?” Tristan asked.

“It has been quiet as of late. They send their regards.”

His friend regarded him warmly. “I’m glad to hear it. I thought perhaps you were off on one of Meliot’s ridiculous challenges.”

Since the beginning of their imprisonment in the alter-world, a malevolent and powerful wizard by the name of Meliot was forever dragging them into senseless quests, promising to free them if they conquered or survived. Of course, there were always schemes and last-minute changes that kept them from ever winning.

Still, they fought, using their skills as swordsmen, and gifts magically granted to some of them by a Scottish enchantress just before being trapped.

“Nay, he has not bothered us since you left.” Gavin replied watching Sabrina who pulled her hair back, securing it away from her face. A tendril escaped, falling alongside her cheek distracting him from Tristan.

“I hope he hasn’t found a way to keep you and the others from sensing the pull to come here and try to save yourselves,” Tristan said, fixing his attention back on the matter at hand.

Gavin’s gut clenched at the sense that soon Meliot would be up to something horrible. “I would not be surprised. It is strange that he has been so quiet since you left.”

“Excuse me boys. Time is limited,” Sabrina interjected getting their attention and facing Gavin. “Gwen and I have been working on spells and searching for other people who have claimed to have faced a dilemma like this. Seems it is not as rare as I expected. Of course most are written off as made-up tales, but there are a few that seem eerily similar to this situation.”

Gwen nodded in agreement. “Our youngest sister Tabitha is not as well-versed as we are, but we will speak to her and ask that she come to assist as well.”

“I expect we need to find enchantresses,” Tristan clarified, “since we can only be helped by the person we’re meant to be with. Our enchantments all involve matters of the heart.”

Gwen nodded. “At the same time, it wouldn’t hurt to get others who could possibly help.”

“Well, it’s obvious Goldie here,” Sabrina motioned to Gavin with her head, “and I are not meant to be .” She held up two fingers on each hand, making air quotes.

“If he felt the pull, and you are the only other enchantress here, then it must be you who summoned him.” Tristan insisted.

Sabrina rolled her eyes and let out an indignant huff. “I am not an enchantress.”

“No one else is here?” Gavin asked looking around the room, enjoying Sabrina’s fiery nature.

“No one with the gift of magic,” Gwen replied. “Edith, has moved into town.” She referred to Tristan’s elderly descendant who had claimed Tristan as her son when he escaped the enchantment so that he could reclaim his properties and money wisely invested by the women in his family.

“There is Fiona,” Tristan told them.

Both women huffed at the same time. “Good luck with that one,” Sabrina said, crossing her arms.

“Who is this Fiona?” Gavin asked, noticing Gwen press her lips together, an arched eyebrow directed at Tristan.

“Er, she’s a distant relative,” Tristan told him. “She is visiting. I am sure she has no gift of magic,” his friend quickly added.

“We’ve wasted enough time.” Gwen took Tristan by the hand, leading him out of the room while giving Sabrina a pointed look. “Get as much information as you can. The more you can get from Gavin, the easier it will be to come up with a spell to free him.”

Looking around, Gavin noted that he and Sabrina were now alone.

“Might as well get started,” Sabrina told him, rounding a desk and sitting. An obvious ploy to put distance between them. Gavin almost laughed.

He was well aware most women found him unsettling. The fact that he was a person of incomparable beauty was a fact, not conceit. His looks had always been more of a curse than a blessing throughout his life. To be admired for being attractive did not mean it brought respect. Quite the opposite. People expected him to be arrogant, of diminished intelligence and untrustworthy.

Although unsettled at his sudden appearance, Sabrina had never openly admired him. According to Tristan, she took portraits of beautiful men and women as a profession. He didn’t quite understand the intricacies of how it worked, but his friend informed him she was wealthy from it.

Perhaps it was being surrounded by beauty that made it easier for her to act normal around him. Gavin liked it, it felt refreshing.

She glanced at him and then looked down at a contraption that had several lines of small squares. Her fingers tapped over the squares quickly as she studied a lighted frame.

He watched her work, the long red strands seemed to have a life of their own, more loosening from the clip and spilling forward, framing her heart shaped face.

Curious, Gavin stood and moved closer to see what she did. “What is this?” He pointed at the item her hands rested on.

“That’s close enough Goldie, don’t come nearer. I know all about those seduction powers of yours and I’m not taking any chances.”

He ignored her warning and moved just a bit closer to look at the top part of the contraption. “What are you doing on that?”

“This is called a laptop computer. When I press down on the keys, the letter appears on the screen. It’s like writing, but faster,” she said pointing at the item in front of her.

After watching letters appear on the lighted frame, he lowered to a chair. It was a new experience for him, a woman who didn’t try to immediately seduce him. A welcome reprieve of sorts, although it was strange that the woman who would hopefully save him could possibly be immune.

The fact she seemed not to be affected by his looks could be an obstacle to breaking his curse, which was something he’d have to contend with later.

Sabrina was not an approachable sort. Instead, he would describe her as prickly and ill tempered. Not quite unfriendly, but although much shorter than him, she managed to seem to look down her pert nose at him

“So,” Sabrina began, looking up at him. “Let’s begin trying to figure out the key to breaking you out.”

“What is your full name Goldie?”

“Gavin Kendrick Campbell, Laird of Clan Campbell of Lochlann.”

“Laird?” Her eyes lifted to look at him. “Impressive. Were you married? Any children?”

“Nay.” he stood, feeling uneasy at discussing his family.

“Siblings?”

“Yes, two brothers. I also had a sister. All younger.”

“I assume one of your brothers became the new Laird.”

“Not for many years. My brother John eventually did. My uncle John Campbell took over as laird after I disappeared.”

“I’ve heard of him. Well, there were several John Campbell’s, weren’t there? Every Laird Campbell becomes a Duke of Argyle right? Were you a duke?

“Nay, the title belonged to my uncle and cousins. And to answer your question, yes there were several laird’s named John Campbell.”

“Your clan was, er, is, one of the largest, most powerful clans in Scotland.”

Immediately anger surfaced and Gavin tapped it down mentally. When his uncle had taken over as laird, his mistreatment of the clan’s people had caused a huge rift in the clan. When his younger brother came of age, he’d become laird of people who’d defected. Unfortunately, for decades there was feuding, even warring between the two factions. It had been almost a century before peace had finally returned to Clan Campbell. However, even to present day, the split remained.

The vile wizard Meliot had not only damned him to years of entrapment but had caused many deaths in his family.

A strong pull to return to the alter-world tugged and Gavin grimaced just thinking of what was to come.

“Unfortunately, I have to go.”

“Already?” she came from around the desk, nearing him. “We’ve barely started. I promised Tristan to do my best to help you. I need more information.”

“He will understand lass,” he told her, holding her gaze. Moving closer slowly, so as not to alarm her, he stopped in front of her, forcing her to look up to him. Had he noticed how luscious her lips were?

Noticing his gaze, she gasped, her lips parting, but she did not move away. “Are you doing it?” she asked him breathlessly.

“Nay,” he replied but moved closer. “I will not use my seduction powers on ye.”

“Promise?” The breathless question caused his heartbeat to quicken.

“Aye.”

The pull back to the alter-world became too strong to ignore. He grimaced. “I’ll return as soon as I can, lass. I am nae sure why, but I am pulled strongly to return,” he told her before leaping.

In the alter-world, Gavin landed on his butt in a bush with a loud grunt.

“You suck at this,” Padriag, the youngest of the trapped men, slapped his leg and bent over laughing. “I never get tired of watching you land after a leap.”

Padriag, spoke modern English due to the fact that his ancestral home, in current day Scotland, had been converted into apartments and the younger tenants exposed him to it.

The knight continued laughing as he tugged on Gavin’s arm. “Sorry, I know you’re hurting, but going through the pain in a prickly bush can’t help.”

When Gavin was finally able to flop onto the solid ground, he kept his eyes closed, waiting for the throbbing to pass. Tears squeezed through his eyelids, gliding down his face while he clenched his jaw, until he could finally breath normally.

Nail MacTavish, another of the trapped men, stood by in silence. The Scotsman kept vigil, his gaze scanning the surroundings.

There was no time to waste, Gavin got to his feet, and they quickly headed to their keep. Never knowing what could be thrown at them by Meliot, they didn’t dare linger away from the keep for longer than necessary. Unfortunately, for some reason, they had to go away from their fortress in order to leap.

The two men didn’t ask any questions as they jogged down a path that cut through a dense forest. The forest in the alter-world was nothing like the world where they came from. Tree trunks were the color of pumpkins, the leaves a strange combination of greys and greens and grass a strange reddish color. To him, it seemed to be eternally autumn.

Although he knew once they got to their home the men would be anxious to hear news, he wouldn’t have much to tell. The visit had been cut short.

“I was there but a few moments,” Gavin called out.

Padriag gave him a worried look. “Something is wrong. The entire time you were gone, strange flashes of light appeared across the sky.”

Meliot knew. Somehow, he could feel it—their escape from the alter-world hadn’t gone unnoticed. The wizard was already stirring, preparing to unleash his fury upon them.

He glanced at Nail and Padraig. The fear in their eyes told him they knew it too.

And then the air around them began to shift.