Pleasure skittered down my spine in a flash of cold heat as I bit my lower lip and held on tightly as I bore down and Arthur’s knot slipped in without any more preamble.
I came, light dancing in my vision. Then, a soft mist began to collect around us as the core of my magic which Merlin had so painstakingly taught me how to sense lit up in a blaze of warmth in my chest.
“Gods,” Arthur muttered as he leaned forward to press his lips into his bondmark on my neck, his hips shuddering underneath me before warmth spilled deep inside of me and his knot swelled until it could no longer be pulled out.
We collapsed to the side, our legs tangled together as Arthur lay with his eyes closed, his chest still rising and falling heavily with rasping breaths.
“Are you asleep?” I asked after a while, reaching out to brush one of his sweaty gold curls away from his damp forehead.
“Nearly, little queen,” he grumbled, his voice muffled as he pulled me even closer to his chest and wrapped both arms around me. “Now rest.”
I wasn’t tired, though, and I waited until his breathing evened out before sitting up as much as I could with his knot still embedded inside of me. His arms slid around me as I stared at the room around us. Mist still hung mysteriously in the air and as soon as I reached out for it, it skittered out of my reach as if repelled by it.
Was this what Merlin had meant when he explained calling my magic to me? I hadn’t even tried to do it this time—in fact it had happened when I finally let go of all semblance of control and then it seemed to burst out of me.
Pursing my lips together I tried to pull the mist to me but the moisture ignored me completely as it continued to shift around the room.
Frustrated, I dropped my hand.
“Stupid water,” I muttered.
At my words, all of the mist in the room dropped like rain, spreading drops of moisture on the stone floor.
A sigh left me and I lay back down, watching Arthur’s sleeping face as my resolve to save him—to save all of them—was renewed once again.
Soon, exhaustion filled me and Arthur’s knot, which had been snugly stuck inside of me, deflated enough so that I could separate our hips enough to get comfortable.
I was just about to doze off when I felt Arthur suddenly jerk next to me as he sucked in a sharp rasp of air.
“Arthur?” I whispered, turning to find his brow furrowed as he twitched again.
He was having some kind of nightmare, that much was obvious, but I wasn’t sure what to do about it. Fear rippled down our shared bond so intensely that I could taste the sourness of it on my tongue.
Reaching over, I gave the alpha a firm shake.
“Arthur,” I repeated as lips pulled down into a deep frown and he let out a moan of discomfort. “Arthur, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
Another shake and I nearly screamed as Arthur’s eyes flew open and he sat up stock-straight as a ragged wheeze left him.
Arthur’s shoulders shook violently, the shudders shaking the entire bed as he continued to pull in raspy breaths.
“Arthur?” I ran a hand down his back, feeling the muscles twitch under my fingers. “Are you all right?”
Arthur’s head swung around, his blue eyes wide as a strange emotion flickered over his face.
“I have had a dream.”
Something about the way he said it told me that his dream was far more important than just a regular dream.
This dream would change things, I just wasn’t sure how yet.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Come, Gawain,” Lancelot said, his grin vicious as he stood over me, twirling his wooden sword with ease. “Let us try that again.”
The morose mood he had been in during our trip back to the castle had all but dissipated from the alpha and now he laughed with the rest of the knights as we trained in the grounds to the side of the castle.
My mood, however, had taken a firm dip as I rolled over onto my knees in the dirt and got back onto my feet.
