With My Last Breath (Page 8)

It would be so easy to want to remain here… to brush aside all responsibility and fear from my present life and just stay here in Camelot where currently everything was perfect. But I knew all too well, that even if I didn’t remember exactly how just yet, both Lucan and I would die young and tragically here. The Fates had ensured that, time and time again. But it was so very easy to block that out when Lucan was smiling at me so vibrantly.

"But where is the fun in that?" he laughed, throwing his head back. "Since when are you such a worrier?"

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"Since… never," I admitted. "I don’t usually need to. You are competent and strong. But I have no wish to see you bloodied on the field, Lucan. You’re much too pretty to be bloody."

I reached out and stroked his face and he leaned into my hand.

"Knights are not pretty, my lady," he said sternly, clasping me to him.

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrows. "I beg to differ. You are both beautiful and a knight, so you are wrong. Knights can be pretty."

We stepped out of the palace doors and into the lush grass walkway that led up to the palace gardens. Dew was already forming on the grass and I felt it saturate my thin satin slippers. The air was damp, so much so that I could feel moisture forming on my skin like wet velvet.

Lucan led me to a nearby stone bench situated just off the beaten path and in the shadows. If I were alone, I would never have ventured into the dark in such a way. It simply wasn’t safe. But Lucan was just as deadly in this life as he was in every other one in which he’d ever lived. I was safer with him than anywhere else in the world.

I melted against him as we sat, enjoying his masculine scent and the strength that ebbed from him almost palpably. It didn’t matter what his name was or which body he inhabited, he was always the same person and it was my sole mission now to save him.

"It’s a beautiful night, is it not?" he drawled as he stared up at the black night, stretching before he dropped his arm around my back in a subtle gesture as old as time.

The bright stars twinkled and I couldn’t help but enjoy being here with him, in spite of the pressing responsibility that I felt to find the sword. I could take just a moment to enjoy him. What would it hurt?

"Will you come to my chambers tonight?" I murmured against his neck.

"Has there been a night in your most recent memory when I have not?" he stared at me incredulously.

"Not that I recall," I laughed softly, enjoying his long fingers wrapped in mine as I ran my fingers through his silky dark hair.

"Well, then there is no reason to begin now," he announced with finality.

He lowered his head and engulfed my mouth with his own. I could taste the honeyed mead on his lips and I drew him even closer, clutching at his strong back. I would never be able to get close enough to him, but I could certainly try.

As his mouth made love to mine, I found myself wondering about our future here.

Would I be gone before Lucan died in this life? Because I certainly did not want to witness that yet again. I had lost him too many times already.

But as he deepened the kiss even further, I shoved the unpleasant thoughts from my mind. I was here now and so was he. I’d think about the ugliness later and simply enjoy the now.

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Chapter Four

I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned in the lavishly adorned bed, twisting about in the soft bedclothes, but slumber just wouldn’t come to me. Finally, after staring at the stone ceiling for half an hour more, I crawled out of bed with a sigh. There was no reason to keep Lucan awake with my restlessness.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. He looked like a little boy as he slept, his handsome face slack and relaxed. I smiled to myself. I couldn’t get over having him back. Time travel was truly a miracle and a blessing. If I blocked out reality just enough, I could pretend that everything was fine.

I pulled a lacy silk wrap over my nightgown and slipped soundlessly onto my balcony. Leaning onto the thick stone ledge, I stared absently at the countryside below me. Even at night, Camelot was beautiful. Wild bramble and bluebells adorned the rolling hills, along with brilliant red poppies and dark purple violets, appearing as a scene from a vivid painting. I could only just make out the colors in the darkness because of the full yellow moon that hung on the horizon.

The nighttime dew was so thick that it formed on my own skin within a few minutes. It rained quite a lot here. But the rain kept everything fresh and new, kept the grasses thick and lush. It also made the air clean and sweet. I inhaled a deep breath. It smelled like a mountain spring would taste.

Lucan stirred in his sleep and I turned, watching him bury his head deep under the pillows through the fluttering curtains surrounding my bed. They were more prone to heavy velvet draperies here in Camelot, but I had insisted on gauzy sheer curtains in my bedchambers. I supposed it was a throwback to my true heritage in the Spiritlands.

The weather was perfect there, so we had no need for heavy cloth. We had the luxury of beauty over functionality.

I sighed as I realized that if I was comparing the Spiritlands to Camelot, then I was truly wide awake. I knew I was not going back to sleep now. And if I was going to be awake, I might as well reacquaint myself with the castle. We were here on a mission and failure was not an option. I could sleep when we returned to the Spiritlands. I quietly crept past my bed where Lucan blissfully slept and slipped silently out into the hall, closing the door softly behind me.

The corridors were cool and shadowy, the light from the flickering torches slowly dying. My nose twitched as I sniffed at the lamp oil. They would just barely last until morning, each hour burning lower and lower until they burned out just as they sun came up. Like everything else in Camelot, they did their jobs perfectly. Arthur made sure that everything worked like a well-oiled machine.

As I walked, I trailed my fingers along the rough-hewn blocks of the walls. How could I ever have forgotten this life? It was astounding to me that the Fates’ had truly Courtney Cole 22

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held that much power over me. They had literally played games with my mind and I had allowed it. Never again, I vowed to myself, as I turned a darkened corner.

A flicker of movement stilled my footsteps and out of instinct, I stepped back into the cover of darkness. With interest, I watched a figure emerge from the king’s bedchambers and then I saw Guinevere’s face in the dim torchlight. I sighed in relief.