Chapter Thirteen
W hen I first tasted the smoke on the air I was studiously attempting to ignore the way Guinevere looked resting against Gawain’s chest.
With her eyes closed, my new queen looked almost serene—a far cry from the fluttering, angry omega that had scolded me in the early hours this morning.
I had awoken first and stared at her snuggled naked in my arms in much the same way as I was looking at her now and had even spent more time winding her dark curls around my fist. Despite the liveliness of her hair, the strands had still felt silky smooth when I rubbed them between my forefinger and thumb.
For a while, it felt as if I had achieved a true level of calm and peace that was rare for a man such as I. My heartbeat was slow, the sun was filtering in through the window, and Guinevere’s honeysuckle scent was thoroughly marking my skin.
Then her eyelashes had fluttered and her brown eyes had opened and she smiled sleepily at me, her body still heavy as she rested her chin on my chest.
It had nearly driven me to the brink not to pull her mouth to mine and once again revel in the too-soft skin and little gasps that I could pull from the omega as I brought her to the stars and back.
Never before had I been so keen to please a woman—but feeling the clench of her around my knot had been life changing.
But before I could kiss my new bride and sheathe myself inside of her again, her dark brows had drawn together and she asked if I had bitten her.
Confused, I replied that of course I had bitten her and sealed the bond. That was what marriage was.
That had been the wrong answer that had led to our quarrel in front of my men and my off-handed order for her to ride with Gawain instead of myself.
A command that I very swiftly regretted when I saw them conversing in relative comfort.
It should not have made me as envious as it did. Merlin’s portent had hovered in the back of my mind ever since he first revealed his fated plan for me and my so-called-packmates.
Even still, hearing Guinevere’s comfortable laughter with the younger alpha had nearly made me draw up alongside them and drag my omega into the saddle with me.
My inner-alpha was just as conflicted. It had always liked Gawain, as did I. I felt responsible for the lad who craved the attention and affection that he had sorely lacked in the house of his father.
A feeling I understood well.
Sir Ector and Lady Anne had done their utmost to make me feel as if I was a part of their little family, but it was always clear that I had not come from their bloodline.
Kay, my foster brother, was their son and their pride and joy. He looked like a sweet mix of both of his parents whereas I was told that I must have resembled my real father.
Years later when we took the castle of Uther Pendragon, the paintings of the man on the wall had unfortunately confirmed as much.
However, no matter how much I pitied Gawain, when I saw how Guinevere looked reclined against his chest as if she belonged there? To him?
It made my chest heat up with a confusing mix of envy, jealousy, and regret about an action that was as natural to alphas and omegas as breathing. It confused me as to why she was angry with me—did omegas and alphas not bond in the future?
“Your majesty!” The sharp cry of one of my men ripped me out of my thoughts and I jerked my head in the direction of the noise.
One of my bannermen was pointing to something on the dark horizon and as soon as my gaze followed his hand, my blood turned cold.
There, in the distance, were several blazes reaching for the skies. The lands in between Camelot and Cameliard were dotted with small villages and hamlets where farmers and other craftsmen tended to gravitate towards.
Now, nearly every one seemed to have been set ablaze.
And there was only one reason that I could conjure as to why that would be.
“The Saxons,” Merlin’s gasp was loud enough that I wheeled around to face the wizard who was staring at the blaze with his mouth agape.
“Did you not foresee this?” I asked grimly.
The wizard shook his head fiercely. “I am not omniscient, Arthur. I only see what the gods want me to see and they never showed me this.”
“Your majesty,” Bedivere cut into our conversation and dropped his voice low so that he could speak to me somewhat privately. “The men are asking for your orders.”
I frowned, considering our options. We could either move around the razed villages and continue on our way to Camelot, or we could head down into the villages and see if there were any survivors left after the Saxon’s destruction.
It would not be the first time that I had brought refugees back to Camelot with me and my people were accustomed to helping each other…
But then I glanced back at Guinevere who was rubbing at her sleepy eyes.
Danger , my inner-alpha whispered, cautioning against bringing my vulnerable omega to any place that could put her in harm’s way.
“Your majesty?” Bedivere pressed, reminding me that I was not just Guinevere’s alpha. There was no world where I could ever be just that—not when I had my kingdom and my people to think about.
Yanking on my reins, I pulled Llamrei around in the direction of the first flaming hamlet. “Move forward!”
The sound of thundering hoofbeats followed me as Llamrei tore down the hill. The massive stallion always itched to be able to gallop at full speed and he tossed his head with it and let out a loud bugle that seemed to echo off of the heavens as he pulled out ahead of the rest of the group with ease.
As we neared, I did not recognize the village as this was a different route from the one we took to travel to Cameliard, but it did not look unlike the villages we had passed through on the other side of the lake.
Groupings of homes sat facing one another with their farm lands spiraling out around the little hamlet in a circle. Oftentimes the people living in these villages relied on one another to help till their soil and plant their crops, sharing in the fruits of their labor during harvest time.
And now all of the hard work that these people had put in was on fire as groups of dazed, sooty people seemed to mill about and only their sobs could be heard over the crackle of the burning structures around them.
“By the gods,” Lancelot said next to me, his pointed face grim as we began to see bodies littered around the damp, muddy road. Most were face down in the dirt, but a few stared up at me with unseeing eyes as we passed on our way to the center of the village.
“This must have happened recently,” Bedivere chimed in, his silvery eyes scanning our surroundings. “These structures are still only half-burnt.”
A thread of something crawled down my spine at his words as if my instincts were warning me that I was missing something.
“Your majesty!” Gawain’s voice cut through the din of misery and I whirled around in my saddle just in time to see Guinevere scrambling down from Gawain’s horse with a determined look on her face.
“Guinevere,” I barked, turning Llamrei in her direction. “Get back on that horse immediately!”
“But they need help!” she protested as she approached a group of villagers who were huddled together and looking up at her with pitying looks.
Normally, I would agree with her, but as she approached a small boy who could not have been more than six years old with a soft, reassuring smile, the sound of a war-horn blasted into the night. A war horn that was not one of ours.
“Saxons!” someone shouted as chaos erupted and the group of people who Guinevere had been approaching sprang up and began to run in all directions, seemingly trying to get away from the trap that they had been forced to set.
“Guinevere!” my voice roared over the cacophony as my queen stood frozen in place with the little boy clutched to her waist. Her fear was so palpable down our still-fresh bond that I could almost taste the hot bile of it welling up in my throat as I watched with horror.
The sound of metal hitting metal filled my ears as my men began to fight back against the deluge of Saxons that were pouring out of the semi-burned structures with their swords raised.
Excalibur rattled in its sheath and the familiar magical sensation of the connection I shared with the sword made my palms itch.
Pulling the sword free, I turned Llamrei in Guinevere’s direction and began to forge a path, Excalibur and my stallion making quick work of any Saxon that dared to point their weapon in my direction.
But I was too damned far away from my omega.
Flashes of Sir Ector and Lady Anne’s cottage after their brutal murders filled my mind.
This had been what I was so afraid of. How was I supposed to protect her when I was also meant to serve and protect my people? To be their king?
Omegas were meant to be cherished, not put second, but the moment I had been crowned king I also swore my life to my kingdom. This was why I had been so hesitant to accept any queen—omega or not.
With a slash of my sword, I sent another Saxon careening to the ground with a groan. My eyes hardly left the omega who had at the very least managed to pull the little boy into her arms. I could see that she was looking around in an attempt to find an escape, but the majority of the fighting had centered around her making that much too complicated on foot.
Suddenly, a Saxon rose up behind her and lifted his sword. It seemed to gleam in the firelight with a menace far greater than any other weapon currently out in the clearing. This sword would cleave through Guinevere, slicing through skin and bones with ease, and I had been the one to give the order to bring her into this chaos.
I would not get to her in time. Everything around me seemed to slow as I watched the sword start to lower.
As an alpha, I had failed so miserably that I had even gone against what fate had laid out for me and now I would have to watch as she died.
Then, just as Guinevere was huddling over the boy as if to protect him from the sword that would no doubt cut through the both of them, the sound of metal ringing on metal filled my ears as Gawain knocked the attacking Saxon’s sword out of the man’s arms and to the ground.
The lad made quick work of Guinevere’s attacker as she was lifted up and onto Lancelot’s saddle in a blur.
I had not even seen my second-in-command move, but now he was pulling her into his chest and shielding her and the little boy as he was flanked by Bedivere and Gawain.
Dumbfounded. That was the only emotion I could feel as the fighting continued in a confusing cacophony around me as they approached.
“Your majesty,” Lancelot’s shout reached through the dull roar in my ears as he galloped up to me with my queen safely ensconced in his arms. “Your orders?”
“Take her,” I bit out. “All three of you. Get her to Camelot safely and you can have whatever you please.”
Guinevere peeked out from underneath Lancelot’s arms, her brown eyes wide as they met mine.
“Arthur—” she began, but Lancelot was already spurring his horse on and making a path through the battle. He was followed closely by Gawain, leaving just a frowning Bedivere behind.
“Are you certain, Arthur?” Bedivere asked, his question laden with a heaviness and double meaning.
He was really asking if I was truly content with sharing Guinevere with these men?
I had not been certain before this, but had I been the only alpha fated for Guinevere she would have died here tonight and there would have been nothing that I could do about it.
My nod was grave, but the decision was made with a lighter heart than the one that I had been carrying ever since the night that the omega had fallen from the sky and into my arms.
There had been no care for her then—she was a strange omega from a strange time who argued something fierce with me—but our shared bond pushed the imperative to protect and care for her and even my instincts could not refute the notion that having four alphas would allow me to focus on more than just protecting her.
I was not alone in this any longer, I realized now as I watched Lancelot’s horse escape.
“Protect her, Bedivere. We will rejoin you later,” I told him resolutely and waited until Bedivere had disappeared after Lancelot and Gawain before turning to the battle which was already shifting into our favor. These measly Saxons would not end us tonight if I had my way.
“Do you now see why the gods have decreed your fate, Arthur?” Merlin said from next to my elbow, making me jump at the suddenness of his words.
The wizard’s presence had been scarce ever since we left Cameliard earlier in the day, but now he sat on his silvery mare, observing the carnage before us with a dispassionate interest.
I nodded grimly. “I do, but I will not force her to accept them if she does not want to.”
Guinevere’s reaction to my placing my bonding bite to her neck had made me reconsider my approach with the beautiful, but mysterious omega. She had not desired to have an alpha at first and I had made the mistake of assuming that she had changed her feelings when she accepted me into her nest.
I had been incorrect, and if I made it out of this dreaded village, I would work to learn exactly how to satisfy my omega queen’s desires—even if that meant sharing her with the men who I trusted the most.
But there was no more time to think about Guinevere. There was a fight ahead and if we all perished there would be no way for me to make it up to her and I desperately wanted to ease her anger with me.
Holding Excalibur aloft, the sword hummed with pleasure as I addressed my men. “No Saxons shall prosper these lands, kill them all!”
My men roared in response, their efforts renewed as I dropped Excalibur , slashing into the nearest Saxon who dared approach my horse.
It would be a long night, but at the very least I knew that Guinevere was safe and she was protected.
And now it seemed I had a pack that would make certain of it.