Chapter Forty
“ A nd you are certain she has disappeared?” I asked Sir Kay as I sat against the headboard of my bed with my omega lying against my chest. She had fainted an hour ago and had not stirred since.
The healers found nothing wrong with her aside from a few burns on her feet and ankles from the flames of the pyre.
The same pyre that I could remember ordering to be built. The one that I had thrown the torch onto myself.
I closed my eyes tight for a moment, trying to banish the image of Guinevere’s wide eyes and the fear in her voice as she called out to me from my memory.
But I had been a prisoner in my own mind, watching with horror as my own hand dropped the torch and walked away as the sound of her cries followed me.
When I first had the dream about the events of the past few days, I knew that something was going to happen—that I would not be in my right mind and that there would be fire.
Like all of my dream visions, they were a muddled mess of images and sounds—the only clear one being a pair of purple eyes and fingers covering my face.
I had not expected Merlin to be trapped by Morgana, nor had I expected to come back to the castle and discover my omega in heat wrapped up safely in Lancelot’s arms, only for me to rip her from them despite the joy I felt inside of my mind at the sight.
My gaze drifted down to the purple bruises on her arms and the shadows beneath her closed eyes.
She had been to the hells and back, her body covered in soot and the scent of her heat still very much present on her body underneath the smell of smoke.
Gawain was gently wiping a wet cloth up and down her arms and legs, cleaning the smudges from her body as his expression was as morose as mine must have been.
Lancelot, who also remained asleep, was stretched out in the bed next to us, just as he should be. I could now feel his end of the bond and the relief he felt even in his dreams.
We were whole and I finally understood what Merlin meant by a pack fated to be. I was not alone in my guilt, I could feel it wafting off of the other two alphas in the room as they worked to right what had gone amiss.
Kay, who was oblivious to my mindset, nodded. “She vanished in the confusion, your majesty, I am sorry.”
“Find her,” I said, my voice blunt and dull. “Put a bounty on her head and make sure the other tribal kings know that the Lothians and their ilk are no longer welcome in Camelot or Cameliard. If they wish to continue trade with us then they will follow suit.”
“Your majesty? The entirety of Lothian? But surely King Lot would not have—”
“He and the rest have been under Morgana’s spell for years,” Gawain cut in, his voice stony as he continued to clean Guinevere’s body. “If there is anything left of my father then it will be but a shell.”
“We can expect the Saxons to also return in kind for their imprisoned brethren,” Bedivere said, speaking of the Saxons who were currently imprisoned in my dungeon. The same one my omega had spent two days in whilst in the throes of her heat.
My guilt returned anew and I held Guinevere closer to me, inhaling her honeysuckle scent that was nearly saccharine with her heat and muddled by the lingering scent of smoke.
“It will take them time to regroup after such a loss,” I told them. “Weeks, maybe even a month.”
“We will prepare,” Kay said before his expression grew strange.
“What is it?” I snapped, my patience long since having worn thin by the events of the day.
“King Leodegrance would like an audience with you as soon as you are able. He is, ah , displeased with the way his daughter has been treated.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose in hopes of warding off the oncoming ache, I sighed heavily. “Show him in.”
Kay nodded once before stepping out into the corridor to get him.
Andrivete, who had been hovering anxiously by the window, straightened. “I shall go and fetch refreshments, some food in your bellies will lift even the heaviest of spirits.”
Then she followed her husband out of the room, leaving us alone for a moment.
“Do you suppose he is going to shout at us?” Gawain asked, though his expression showed that he did not care a bit about what Guinevere’s father had to say.
Before I had the chance to answer him, the doors opened and King Leodegrance stepped inside.
His brown-eyed gaze, so much like his daughter’s despite their magically tenuous relationship, settled on where our pack was gathered together.
“So it is true. You are all together?” Leodegrance asked, never having been one to dance around any subject, let alone this one.
“Aye,” I confirmed, holding Guinevere tighter to my chest.
Leodegrance ran a hand down his face, his expression disbelieving. “So Adelaide was right.”
“Pardon?” Bedivere, seeming to forget who he was speaking to, blurted out.
But Leodegrance seemed unperturbed by the alpha’s outburst. “When my wife was pregnant with Guinevere she used to tell these stories about the men who would protect our daughter one day—I always wrote it off as the fancies of a woman who had been yearning for a child for so long. We did not even know if we would be having a prince or a princess at that moment either. She did not mention it much after Guinevere’s birth, so I thought little of it until I watched the wizard kiss my daughter in the courtyard this afternoon.”
The wizard in question who was busily putting his magical spells in the castle back to rights after Morgana’s magical tyranny.
“She is our omega,” I told him simply. “It is called a pack and the gods have expressed their desire to bring such things to Logres.”
Leodegrance nodded as if that made perfect sense. “It would solve many a territorial dispute over omegas” he said thoughtfully, as if he was considering my words seriously. “But regardless, I am unhappy with the events I have witnessed today.”
That was what I had been afraid to hear. “I swore to protect her when we married, I apologize for my failure to do so.”
“He did not know what he was doing,” Gawain said, leaping to my defense. The normally meek alpha glared at the man in front of him as if he were not a king but a threat to our small family. “Morgana’s spell had him under a thrall.”
“Kings should not fall so easily,” Leodegrance shot back dryly and I watched as Gawain sputtered in an attempt to form a reply. “I should return to Cameliard with my daughter and protect her myself.”
A chorus of growls filled the room and I realized that, at some point during our conversation, Lancelot had awoken and was glaring at the king in the same way the rest of us were.
Leodegrance held up his hands in surrender.
“Be at peace, you four. Even if I wished to do so, I have a feeling my daughter would have some very strong opinions about such things. Regardless, Cameliard will stand with Camelot in the upcoming battle, as will our other allies. You can rest assured we will not allow the Saxon scourge to take over our lands, nor will we allow Saxon sympathizers to flourish here either,” Leodegrance finished, his expression stern.
“I thank you on behalf of Camelot,” I said and would have offered him the customary half-bow that was exchanged between kings, but the omega sleeping on my chest was making that very difficult.
Leodegrance’s face softened ever so slightly. “Please protect not only her person, but also her heart. I cannot bear to see her in any more pain than I already have today.”
With that, the king shot his daughter one last, gentle look before leaving.
“The Saxons pose a significant threat to her and the rest of our people,” Lancelot said, sitting up with a grunt as his gaze never left Guinevere’s face.
“As I said before, we have time to gather our forces,” Bedivere repeated as he perched on the end of the bed.
“Will it be enough?” Gawain asked, his voice betraying none of the anxiety I could feel echoing through his end of the bond.
“It must be enough,” I told them decisively. “Or else I fear the fate we are fighting so hard for will be cut short before we can truly enjoy it.”
In my arms Guinevere began to stir.