Page 92 of Secrets of Avalon

Aric's voice cuts through the tension. "Because the High Council executes rebels and half of the Knights are royalty, it puts them in a political pickle for choosing sides." His smile widens. "But I'm quite sure you all joined up today."

Ares jerks his head once, tension lining his face. "It definitely appears that way." He runs a hand through his hair. "Zeus is going to be pissed. I need to get to Olympus and find out where we stand in all of this. I also need more ambrosia for all of us or everyone around me is going to start punching each other."

He waves to a nearby siren, who motions him over. "I'll catch up with you in Vandimoor tonight," Ares says, striding away.

Hawke pulls me close, his arm warm around my waist. "Let’s get you on a horse and us on the road to Vandimoor, Sweet girl."

"Yes. Of course," I say, exhaustion hitting me suddenly. “What about the others? Are they coming?”

A tall man with very blonde hair tucked behind slightly pointed ears approaches with a cavalier smirk on his face. He’s dressed in leather armor. A short dagger is sheathed at his waist and a bow and quiver hang on his back. He looks very much like Boaz. “I like your mate. She’s sweet. Concerned about all of us like that.”

“Fuck off, Aric,” Hawke says, hissing and bares his fangs.

Jealousy courses through my mate, makes a smile curve my lips. I like that he doesn’t want anyone else to look at me or flirt with me. I feel the same about him. I don’t have any fangs, but I agree with the sentiment.

“Many pardons, Prince Stormblood.” Aric bows with a flourish. "Some of us will follow with you to Vandimoor, milady. But many of us will disappear back into the forest and wait until we're needed again."

I give Aric a curt nod, dismissing him.

He takes the cue. In a matter of heartbeats, Aric and the rest of the rebels begin to disperse, melting into the shadows of the trees. It's eerie how quickly they vanish, leaving only a handful behind. The clearing is suddenly empty, the silence broken only by birdsong and rustling leaves.

"I’m ready." I turn to Hawke. He lifts me onto a chestnut mare without effort. The swings up behind me. His solid warmth against my back is both comforting and electrifying. We set off at a brisk trot, Kellan leading the way down forest road.

"Hawke, what were those monsters?" I prompt, leaning back slightly.

He sighs, his breath tickling my ear. "Those shadow creatures were golems. It was Elven and Fae magick."

"What about Aena?" The memory of the tower floods back. The oppressive weight of her magick and the way she’d tried to tether herself to me. "Why is she in that tower?"

Hawke's arms tighten around me, grounding me in the present. His warmth seeps through my clothes. I lean back into him, grateful for his solid presence. "Her cell is a tiny pocket dimension all its own, separate from Avalon. The door is connected to the tower and Excalibur sealed the door so that she couldn’t siphon power from the World Tree."

I blink, struggling to process. "Excalibur? As in, the sword from the Arthurian legend?"

"I don't know what stories are told on earth," Hawke says, his voice rumbling against my back, "but yes, the sword was Arthur’s. He gifted it to me when the World Tree called me to be a Knight. We used it for the spell because it is strong and made from Drakonium."

My mind whirls, fragments of memories crashing over me like waves. I close my eyes, transported back to that moment in the tower. "The sword," I breathe, my voice tight. "It blazed with an inner fire, brighter than any flame. And then?—"

I swallow hard, recalling the searing heat that had licked along the wall. "Flames etched the door's outline, but it wasn't just fire. It was... alive somehow." A chill seizes me, my body instinctively recoiling from the phantom memory.

"Aena," I whisper, my fingers clench harder around Hawke's arm. "It felt like she was reaching inside me, clawing at my magick—like she was trying to take it from me."

Kellan moves his horse closer. “You felt she was taking magick from you, Domina?”

“Yes and I couldn't lift my hand away until you grabbed it."

"Perhaps because the sword was made of Drakonium? Maybe it needed the magick of a Drakonii to interrupt the flow of energy." Hawke's voice is tense.

“How does your magick feel now, Domina?”

I pause, focusing inward. My magic pulses restlessly beneath my skin. "I'm... okay, I think," I say slowly, flexing my fingers. I meet Kellan's eyes. "I tried to control it, to keep from hurting anyone, but..." I trail off, remembering the raw power that had surged through me.

Kellan growls and rolls his neck. "Everyone in the room was still alive when I left. You hurt no one."

His words like a physical blow. I slump against Hawke, tension draining from my body. “How will you stop another attack?”

Kellan looks up at me, but his eyes go to Hawke, waiting for his answer to my question.

“We can shield the city temporarily. We have two nights before the coronation and wedding,” Hawke answers.