CHAPTER FIFTY #3
Her shift hung loose against her small frame, but she stood like a warrior, unflinching.
She backed away, matching my advance, until her spine met the stone wall.
She must have known I could so easily break her in two.
And yet she didn't arm herself with anything other than her small dagger.
Even that she held by her side, as if she realized it would do her no good against me.
"So it’s true." I stopped a few paces short of her. "You pulled Excalibur from the stone. Arthur was correct."
When she looked up again, something in her eyes burned, fierce and defiant. "Yes. I drew the sword. And I was as shocked as anyone when it accepted me."
"Then you must have used witchcraft to do so." I nearly spat the words at her.
She stood her ground, glaring up at me, something that struck me as odd given her position. But, yes, there was that defiance beneath her fear—that refusal to back down even when she was cornered.
"I used no witchcraft."
"Then you manipulated it somehow with your magic."
She shook her head. "I didn’t manipulate or enchant it. I didn’t cheat, Lancelot. Why it chose me, I do not know."
I wanted to believe her. Gods help me, I did. But something cold gripped my chest. "Then how do you explain it? Arthur is the only one who should be able to wield that sword."
Her jaw tensed. "The sword doesn’t agree." Then she took a deep breath. "Lance—Lancelot—"
Perhaps it was my name on her tongue used so carelessly again, but before she could say another word, I felt something within me snap—all the anger, the confusion, the hurt, the need—all of it consumed me at once like a lightning bolt surging through the sky.
I lunged forward, gripping her slender arms roughly as I slammed her into the stone wall behind her, pinning her there with enough force to make her gasp.
The heat of her body radiated against mine despite the cool night air that seeped through the chamber.
I had to force myself to keep my eyes on hers rather than allowing them to drop lower, to take in the sight of her wearing only a thin shift that in the moonlight was mostly see-through.
"Drop the dagger." My voice was a dangerous rasp against her ear. The scent of her—something earthy, heady—filled my nostrils, making it harder to concentrate.
She looked up into my face, violet eyes now wide as full moons. A flash of fear crossed her features, but a second later, it was quickly replaced by something more complex—something angry, something that wouldn't give in so easily.
"I... I can explain everything if you'll just—"
"—yes, you will do exactly that," I cut her off, pressing closer until I could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine. "But first, you will drop the dagger before I'm forced to take it from you."
She glanced down at the blade clutched in her white-knuckled grip, as if weighing her chances against me—a man who'd never known defeat.
I could see the calculations behind those remarkable eyes, the desperate assessment of whether to submit or fight with her magic, because she knew trying to fend me off physically was a losing proposition.
Without her magic, she was at my mercy.
After another tense moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, her fingers slowly uncurled, and the dagger clattered against the stone floor. The sound echoed in the chamber like a final surrender.
When she looked back up at me, her breathing had become rapid and shallow, her chest inflating and deflating in quick succession. A single strand of that gossamer hair had fallen across her face, and I fought the inexplicable urge to brush it aside.
"Are you part of a plot to undermine Arthur's rule?
" I closed the last inches between us until my large frame completely dominated her much smaller one.
I could feel the heat of her breath on my face, see the pulse hammering in her throat, and her fear did something to me—Gods, I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted another woman. The need was eating me, almost painful.
"Please…"
"Who sent you to infiltrate Camelot?" I brought one of my hands from her arm to her throat as I closed my fingers around it.
"No one," she started, attempting to shake her head, but I held her immobile.
"Bullshit." I leaned even closer, feeling almost undone by the scent of her skin and hair.
"Please, Lance…"
My eyes narrowed of their own accord. "If you call me by that name again, I will close my fingers around your throat until I suffocate you."
To show her I was serious, I tightened my grip around her delicate throat, feeling the fragile curve of her windpipe beneath my calloused fingers.
The pressure wasn't enough to truly harm—not yet—but sufficient to make my point crystal clear.
Her breathing immediately hitched, becoming a sharp, desperate gasp that sent an unwelcome jolt of dark satisfaction through me.
The sound awakened something savage within me, and I had to fight the need to shred her shift from her.
Her pulse thundered against my palm like a wild thing trapped, and I could see the exact moment when genuine fear flickered across those violet eyes.
Yet even as terror painted her features, there was something else there—a stubborn defiance that refused to break, a steel core beneath that only made my desire burn hotter.
She didn't beg, didn't whimper, simply stared up at me with those otherworldly eyes as if daring me to follow through on my threat.
She didn't struggle. Instead, she spoke quickly, urgently: "I did pull the sword from the stone, but I wanted, and I still want, no part of it. It was a mistake—one I don't want to carry the burden for. I am loyal to my king and always will be."
Something in her expression—an earnestness that seemed to radiate from beneath the layers of deception—made me loosen my grip slightly.
Her eyes held a raw vulnerability that caught me off guard.
The pulse beneath my fingers continued to flutter, yet she maintained that unwavering gaze.
Defiance in the face of an angered Titan.
"You knew the king was searching for you—for the white-haired woman who pulled the sword." She nodded. "Yet you never announced yourself."
She looked at me then and frowned. "How could I have? I knew what punishment awaited me—death." I couldn't argue because it was most likely true. "Instead," she continued, swallowing hard, "I just pretended it hadn't happened—that Guinevere didn't exist."
"Guinevere," I repeated immediately. "Is that—"
"—my name," she finished for me, nodding. "Yes."
Of course, it was. And it was just as stunning, just as bewitching, just as beguiling as the woman who wore it.
I glared down at her, angry that I found her name as alluring as the woman it was attached to. "Are you telling me the truth?"
"Yes."
I searched her face meticulously, looking for the telltale twitches that would betray falsehood, the signs I'd been trained to detect in hundreds of interrogations.
Instead, I found only a sincerity so profound it seemed to emanate from deep within her, cutting through my suspicion like sunlight through the dark.
"Why are you here?" I asked her again, wanting to make certain that her story didn't change. "Pretending to be a knight?"
She took a deep breath—only because I'd loosened my fingers enough to allow her. "As I said: I want only to protect my king. The only crime I am guilty of is being a woman."
I glanced down from her face then because I could no longer fight it.
I found her heavy breasts thrust against the fine fabric of her shift, each nipple hard, the pink showing through the thin material.
The sight stirred something feral and raw within me, and my cock started to grow hard, a heat that had no place in this confrontation but refused to be ignored.
"What you have done is treason," I said in a low voice, bringing my eyes up to hers again while trying to keep them there.
"That hardly seems fair." Her chest was still rising and falling with her escalated breathing, driving me to near madness as her hard nipples pushed into my chest. I couldn't help my gaze as it dropped to them once more.
"Why shouldn't I be able to protect my king when I possess magic—powerful magic?
" She seemed oblivious to the fact that I was staring unabashedly at her hard nipples.
Her voice remained steady, earnest, even as my attention wandered lower still.
"Keep pleading your case," I growled.
"I believed I should have been given the chance to become one of the king's knights because I knew I could be a valuable one—I knew I could be valuable to him… and to you, Lancelot."
I closed my eyes against the sound of my name on her tongue.
"Do not say my name again."
"I apologize." She paused, and when I opened my eyes and glared at her, her breathing came faster. "The… the realm needs every advantage against its enemies, regardless…"
"Regardless of what?"
"Regardless… of who provides it."
"And do you know what Arthur would do to you if he learned the truth?"
"Kill me." She took a deep breath. "I know he would kill me."
I shook my head, moving closer to her so my breath skimmed her ear. "He'd fuck you first. Then he'd kill you."
She swallowed hard at my use of profanity, then breathed in deeply, and her chest rose, pushing those hard nipples into my chest again before she breathed out and they dropped once more.
"Look how far I've progressed." She continued, as if she had no idea of the carnal thoughts parading through my head, no idea that I wanted nothing more than to reach down and shove my fingers into her slick heat.
"What you have done is remarkable."
"No… no one would have let me attempt as much if they thought me a woman.
" Her words carried a bitter truth I couldn't deny, and my eyes found hers once more.
As they did, hers narrowed, and she tried to step forward, but I held her easily in place.
She brought her hands to mine and tried to pry them away from her throat, but she failed.
"Please, Lancelot…"
"I told you."
"No," she interrupted, surprising me. Her fingers dug into my own. "I am the same person I always was."
I leaned in closer, glaring at her. "You are fucking nowhere close to the same person you were!"
"Yes, I am. I might look different."
I laughed acidly. But I couldn't comment. I couldn't find the words.
So she continued. "I've outlasted many men in these trials. I've earned my place here. I've demonstrated my worth, my abilities. Does my gender erase all that I've accomplished in service to Camelot?"
"What you did is against the law!" The words exploded from me, and she gave a panicked little cry as I pulled one hand from her throat and slammed my palm into the wall beside her, within an inch of her face.
"Please believe me," she started, her eyes imploring as she stared up at me. "Lance."