“Yes. Mordred. But now he is Sebastian.”
“I was hoping you did all right,” Michael told his half-brother and allowed a smile to enhance his rugged good looks. Michael’s mother may have been human, but his father was not.
After he spoke to Sebastian, his slightly glistening gaze went to her.
“This is Camelee,” Arthur announced, “Like you, she is born of myself and Queen Guinevere.”
Michael looked wide-eyed and a bit bewildered, but he understood one thing immediately. They had both been given up and their lives forever altered.
“I’ve seen you before.” Michael narrowed his eyes on her. “On T.V.?”
She nodded, happier than she realized she would be that they recognized her. Not because of her ego, but because it solidified that this was real.
Still, she wondered what he thought.
“You believe all this? We’re not imagining it? Not dead or something?”
“I’m not dead,” he assured her, and she wondered if death was afraid of him. “And if I am, I don’t want to go back to my life before my life with Charlotte. That isn’t what this is about, is it?” He turned to Arthur. “Why are we all here, and where is my wife? I’m not going back to twenty nineteen.”
“None of us are,” Kestrel added.
“Let us go back to our loved ones,” Sebastian warned. “We will deal with Morgan.”
They looked at Camelee for agreement. Was she ready to declare that she didn’t want to return to her life in front on the screen? Could the king or the sisters cast a spell on her to make her forget Wolf and Hild…her mother? If so, would she choose her future?
Chapter Nineteen
Wolf spent histhird night in the forest. He wouldn’t give up. He’d heard Camelee weeping here. If she had truly gone into the future, the veil had to be thinnest here. He called out to her beneath the stars and the anguish in his voice made his companion cry silently on her pallet.
He’d taken Genevra with him because if she wasn’t mad, and she truly was Queen Guinevere, Camelee’s captor would come for her. And when he did, Wolf would get his woman back.
“Why do you think he has not come for you yet?” he asked Genevra the next morning while they sat around a small fire and broke their fast together.
“Mayhap he cannot find me.”
“Or maybe you are wrong about all of this.”
She stared at him boldly and frowned with insult. Something about her had changed over the last few days. She possessed an air of confidence and authority she did not have before. Each day, she displayed more royal demeanor. Either she was a true queen, or she was undeniably mad in her head.
“Do you accuse me of deceiving you?
“Not deliberately.”
He studied her while she glared at him. “Tell me, what is happening to you? What is changing you?” He had to ask. If somehow Genevra was involved in all this, then she was his only connection to Camelee.
“I am remembering,” she answered with gentle confidence.
“What are you remembering, Genevra, or…my queen.”
Her smile was so unexpected and radiant he almost bowed his head. She was beautiful with her golden hair braided messily down her back. All the stray tendrils around her head were illuminated in the sun and made her countenance shine like someone kissed by God.
“I am remembering my past and my future.”
She told him everything she’d remembered so far. The way she described the future was almost exactly the same as Camelee has described it.
“When you said King Arthur Pendragon is my husband, my heart leaped at the sound of his name. I know he is the man I love, have loved and longed for for almost thirty years. But I do not remember him. I do not know how he looks or smells, or what I love about him. I dream of him with Camelee, and he is mostly faceless.”
“I do not think he will be for long.”
