Her claws snagged a tree stump, stopping her from teetering on the edge of a sheer rock face that fell away from the trail. A thin wall of trees had masked the drop-off that would have shattered every bone in her body.
Pulse firing at the overdose of adrenaline in her system, she sucked in a sharp breath, the air freezing in her lungs. The cat snarled in warning before a heavy arm dragged her away from the edge.
The wraith tipped her chin up, his eyes narrowed as he looked her over.
Lucan was in there somewhere, trapped by a bond that Rhiannon had condemned him to centuries ago. Powerless, isolated, punished, demoralized—over and over and over again.
And for what?
Because Arthur had fallen in battle after giving his life to a cause that he not only believed in, but inspired others to believe in? Lucan had done nothing wrong. He’d supported Arthur, broken his betrothal and ignored his family’s wishes so Gwen and Arthur could be together, had ridden in battle with Arthur, trained with him, laughed with him. There wasn’t a doubt in Briana’s mind that Lucan would have changed places with Arthur that day on the fields of Camlann.
How could that kind of friendship and loyalty count for nothing? He deserved so much more than what Rhiannon had done to him. He deserved a chance at a real future, free and happy. It no longer mattered if that future was with her or not.
How would she ever be able to live with herself if she won and used the sword’s magic to undo the mate bond? Maybe Rhiannon could so heartlessly punish Lucan, but Briana would never forgive herself if she didn’t do everything to free him. She couldn’t stand the thought of him spending another year or week, or even another day living a nightmare.
She loved him too much.
Holding the wraith’s gaze, Briana lifted her hand to his face. “You can be saved.”
With eyes so black and cold they could have frozen over an entire village, the wraith grabbed her hand. She waited for the crushing grip that would push her away.
Instead, gentle fingers closed over hers. “You will not sacrifice yourself.”
So the wraith knew she risked becoming one of the Forgotten if she used Excalibur to free Lucan and they still couldn’t be together.
“You’ve suffered enough.” She wasn’t sure she was just talking about Lucan anymore. The wraith had been created to destroy, to ensure Lucan followed orders whether he wanted to or not, but there was nothing destructive about the way the wraith held her hand now.
“You will not risk your life for us.”
She could have smiled at the commanding tone that both sides of Lucan had mastered. “You can’t stop me.” The wraith took a step back and walked away from her.
She rushed to keep up with him. “Wait, damn it.”
The bastard didn’t so much as reconsider a single step he took. Growling, she snatched the dagger from the sheath strapped to her calf and fired it at him.
A moment before the blade would have lodged between his shoulder blades, he turned phantom and it wedged harmlessly into the ground in front of him. She cursed under her breath.
A menacing slash of teeth followed her act of desperation, and then he threw the dagger back, the blade embedding in the tree only inches from her head.
Frustration gnawed through the last of her patience, and when she caught up with him, she shoved him from behind. “He needs to know that I love him.” Lucan was hers more than he would ever be the wraith’s or Rhiannon’s or anyone else bent on making a claim on him.
It seemed so stupid that she’d once believed that turning away from him would save her from heartbreak. She knew now that the only way to really save herself—to save them both—meant loving him more fiercely than ever.
She shoved the wraith again, needing to take action, to fight for what she wanted until there wasn’t any fight left in her.
Pivoting and grabbing her arms, the wraith shook her. “Are you done?”
“No.” She drove her palms into his chest, vaguely satisfied when he stumbled back a step. “I’m not done.” Her back slammed into a tree, her body pinned by the wraith’s.
“Stop.”
“He needs to know the truth.” She didn’t know how much longer she could be the only one fighting for them. Briana jammed her arms up and out, breaking free long enough to smash a fist into his jaw. “He needs to know that he’s my mate.”
Pain flared along Lucan’s jaw and he staggered back as much from the blow as the words that thundered in his head.
Briana took another swing at him, and he barely got out of the way, struggling to separate the foggy details of awareness from an earlier dream.
“What did you say?”
“That he needs to know he’s my mate,” she snapped like she was talking to someone else.
He blocked the next fist she threw at him, jerking her around, trapping her arm against her stomach as he yanked her back to his chest. Her breaths came fast and hard, but she relaxed against him—and then slammed her head back into his.
Sweet Avalon. Nausea swirled in his gut, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the white spots exploding across his vision, or Briana’s revelation.
Not that she left him time to process either. A sharp kick caught him in the thigh, and he grabbed her ankle, hauling her toward him. She raked her claws across his chest.
He hissed out a breath. “Easy, kitten.”
She hesitated. “Luc?” She didn’t wait for him to acknowledge her. She threw herself at him—hard—and they hit the ground. She half straddled him, her palms trapping his face in her hands. “You’re back.”
He slid his fingers over hers, her warmth banishing the cold forever making him feel empty inside. “Is it true?” Caught in a vicious place between denial and hope, he forced himself to meet her gaze.
She nodded.
“You never said anything.” At her raised brow, he clarified, “Aside from after what happened at Pendragon’s.”
“You said you didn’t want to be with me. And I stupidly believed you.” She sounded unsure about which one of them she was most annoyed with.
“You’re not going to hit me again, are you?” He found himself grinning even though the news shook him to the core.
The stunning woman sitting in his lap wasn’t meant for anyone but him. He didn’t know how fate had conspired to make it happen, and now that he knew, he couldn’t imagine not being with her.
He smoothed her hair back from her face, drinking in every inch of her like he hadn’t done it a thousand times already. “How long have you known?”
“Right before what happened with Tristan and Kennedy. I wasn’t fully immortal before…before everything changed,” she added, guessing he was thinking that far back. “If I had known then, I doubt I would be sane or alive by now.”
He frowned. “The Forgotten?” He’d crossed paths with gargoyles trapped in their beast form, all traces of their humanity gone. Everything inside him went still as the next thought sank in. “That’s what you meant at the start of the competition, when you said your family couldn’t save you.”
He understood now why she’d felt compelled to stay. Winning Excalibur could give her a shot at undoing the mate bond.
“It would never have worked,” she said, seeming to read his mind. Her thumb swept across his bottom lip. “I was crazy to think I could ever choose to let you go. I love you too much.”
His eyes slid shut, his heart thumping so hard he could feel the rapid-fire pulse of it at the back of his throat. He shook his head as though it could undo what had been said. “I hurt you.”
She tugged his hand until it spanned the throat he’d been unable to let go of before the wraith had taken over. “I’m fine.”