And he and Lucan were one and the same.
The night of the festival centuries ago made more sense now, how close he’d seemed to Arthur and Constantine, their teasing reminding her of her own brothers instead of a leader with his soldiers. While she’d never heard of Lucan marrying, she’d heard the rumors of Lancelot’s betrothal to Guinevere.
“He’s the only one who can get us out of here, you know,” Kel drawled, either not bothering or unable to hide the pain in his voice.
“Except he’s unconscious,” she pointed out. Though the dragon had to know that already.
“So give him some of your blood.”
A tired laugh made it past her lips. “I’m sure you’d enjoy watching him drain me completely.”
He shrugged. “It would be slightly more entertaining than watching my wound heal.”
“The others—” she began.
“Will be busy looking for the scroll, assuming they’re not in the same position. We’re on our own.”
She nearly choked on her next breath. “We?”
Kel didn’t say anything, but unfortunately that didn’t make his suggestion any less than the best option.
Her gaze fell to Lucan’s mouth. She’d all but dared him to drink from her in the alley and agreed to it on the battlefield. And now she hesitated?
“He won’t kill you.” She couldn’t make up her mind if Kel sounded bored or disappointed by the possibility.
“Have a Magic 8 Ball over there?” Even taking the unpredictability of the wraith out of the equation, there was no way to know how the poison would affect Lucan’s bloodlust.
Something hit the rocks next to her, and she stared at the knife Kel threw.
“I can help if you’re too squeamish to cut yourself.”
Knowing she couldn’t risk losing too much blood when she was already so weak, she made a shallow slice across her palm and pressed it to Lucan’s mouth.
Chapter Eleven
Nothing happened.
Briana applied more pressure, frowning when Lucan’s lips didn’t so much as twitch.
Panic took root in her gut. “It’s not working—”
A hand clamped down on her wrist, holding her still. Her heart kicked against her ribs, and her eyes found Lucan’s. Open and entirely black, they held her in a death stare.
His brows drew together, then the wraith released her. His lids slid closed and when they opened long moments later—another eternity of waiting—they revealed the same forest green that had haunted her dreams for centuries.
“Hi.” Days of emotional upheaval slipped away, replaced by a bone-deep relief that the damage hadn’t been irreparable. She stroked her fingers through his hair.
Covered in her blood, his lips parted, but he didn’t say anything.
“You should have told me,” she whispered.
He thankfully didn’t ask her if she was talking about the Lancelot thing or Gwen or something else altogether. She wasn’t even sure what she was talking about herself, her mind overloaded with too much information in too short a time.
His expression tightened, and he swallowed, his eyes glassy. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
Knowing he was talking about Arthur, she nodded. “He’s been gone a long time.”
He wet his lips, nodding, and she continued to run her fingers across his forehead. If reliving the loss of his best friend had been even half as hard on him as their earlier flashback, she knew how much he was hurting.
“I wish I had known him better.”
“He was…” Lucan trailed off hunting for the right word.
“Trouble,” Kel finished, his voice nearly as rough as Lucan’s. The dragon leaned his head back, his gaze pensive. “The very best kind.”
The words seemed to wear down some of the tension between the two men, the effect likely temporary given their history. She’d thought she understood Lucan’s hate for the dragon who had betrayed his king, but discovering how close he’d been to Arthur changed everything.
Given the wraith’s predisposition for violence, she suspected the dragon would have been dead by now if not for the gods’ rule against killing each other until the final round of the competition.
Lucan shifted next to her. “What happened?”
Kel answered for her, far chattier than he’d been so far. “That magic-abusing bitch triggered a cave-in.”
“Elena? I thought maybe the Fae did something.” He tried to sit up.
“You need more blood first.” She held his shoulders in place to keep him from rising. It should have been a challenge on a good day and altogether impossible as weak as she was now. The fact that Lucan didn’t even resist her meant he was worse off than she thought.
He touched his fingers to his lips. “Yours?” When she nodded, he shook his head. “But you’re not…stone. The venom in my fangs should have triggered the change.” He shook his head, disbelieving. “You have control of your shift?”
Her heart-rate spiked, the words she’d been holding onto for a while now, trapped somewhere between her lungs and her throat.
“Her mate isn’t here to kick your ass for drinking from her if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kel put in.
Like Briana, Lucan’s head turned in the dragon’s direction. His body, already cool, hardened like ice.
“Hey.” She palmed his freezing cheek, angling his face back toward her, not willing to lose him to the wraith. “You need more.”
“No.”
“Yes. I’m too weak to dig us out, but my blood will give you enough strength to pass through the wall.”
“And then what?” he challenged, and she knew he was just looking for an excuse not to drink from her.
“You’ll find a way to get me out.”
Kel grunted, but as far as she was concerned the dragon was on his own.
Lucan didn’t look convinced so she added, “You promised Tristan you’d keep me safe, right?”
His eyes narrowed, then widened, taking her in. “You’re naked.”
“Usually happens to all of us once or twice a day.”
“Put this on.” Gritting his teeth, he struggled to work his shirt over his head. “A little help,” he prompted when he only got it halfway off before collapsing against the ground, winded.
“Stubborn ass,” she muttered, skimming her fingers over his shoulders and along his arms until she had the shirt in her hands. She fingered the hole where the spear had pierced him. “Kind of pointless.”
Lucan gritted his teeth. “On. Now.”
Smiling at the commanding tone, she dragged it on. “The blood is already helping, isn’t it?”
He didn’t answer, his silence admitting enough.
“Here,” she looped her arms around him, helping him up and resting him against a nearby chunk of the column that could have crushed either of them when this part of the chamber had collapsed.
Arms burning from the strain, her eyes slid shut, and she allowed herself to lean into him. Just for a moment, she promised herself, and then she could pretend she didn’t want to stay right there.
His arm slid around her back. “You need your strength, kitten.”
The nickname had her grinning despite their situation, and she lifted her head. A lopsided smile she hadn’t seen in a long time lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Sometime this millennia would be good,” Kel growled.
Conscious of the dragon’s bored gaze, Briana straightened and held out her hand.
Lucan nodded to her neck. “It would be faster that way.”
“Okay.” By some miracle her voice didn’t betray the flutter of nerves in her belly as she slid closer. She bumped up against him, and he groaned. “Sorry.” Careful of his injuries, she started to move back.
His hand clamped down on her wrist. “Stay.” Eyes reflecting the faint flicker of Kel’s fire, he brushed her hair back from her face, exposing her throat. “You’re sure about this?”