“They’re not my son. But Maddor is yours.” Tears blurred her vision. “Forthat,we march to hell itself.”
His expression softened into the tenderest look imaginable. One that tugged at her heart. In two strides, he moved to stand before her and pulled her against him for the hottest kiss she’d ever known.
And when he pulled back, she saw the first spark of love in his eyes as he cradled her face in his calloused hands. He didn’t say the words, but she knew what the softening in his eyes meant. It was the same look Evander had given her so many centuries before. One she’d missed so much that for a moment, it almost broke her, as she’d never, ever thought to have another man look at her like this. To feel the sudden primal rush through her body that wanted her to hold him safe and keep him close.
Forevermore.
With one ragged breath, she shoved her tender emotions aside and forced herself to remember her anger that kept her strong.
This was about blood. And oaths.
Family.
Today, they would fight. Tomorrow, she would feel.
Brandor cleared his throat as he nudged Urian. “I’m thinking they didn’t just get lost in those woods.”
“Yeah…” Urian dragged the word out. “Wondering if I should kick dragon ass now, or later.”
Medea nipped Falcyn’s chin, then turned to her brother. “Lay one finger on my dragonfly, brother, and you’ll be missing vital body parts.”
Urian snorted. “Not much of a threat, seeing how I never use them, anyway.”
Medea frowned as she faced Shadow. “Do I know you?”
“No.”
And still she had a strange sensation that they’d met somewhere. That she’d seen him. Something about him was unbelievably familiar.
She just didn’t know what.
Falcyn stepped around her. “Shadow, get Urian back to Sanctuary. We’ll—”
“Ah, no,” Urian said, interrupting him. “We stay together.”
Shadow exchanged a less-than-amused stare with his gargoyle. “Oh yeah, ’cause a large, unfamiliar motley group sneaking through Camelot wouldneverget noticed. By anyone. Or get reported to Morgen and her bitches. Sounds like a great suicide plan to me. So glad Varian volunteered me for this happy venture into torture and hell. Bastard fey rat that he is!”
“Don’t insult my father like that.”
They all gaped at the indignant gargoyle.
The gargoyle glanced around them and their shocked expressions. “Well, obviously I’m adopted. While my father might have questionable morality, I promise he never got frisky with a rock.”
Medea laughed at the last thing she’d expected. A rock with a sense of humor.
Shadow grinned. “Realizing belatedly that I should have introduced you all. Beau duFey… this is…them. Best known as the ones who are going to get us killed.”
“Is he a member of the Stone Legion?” Medea remembered Blaise talking about them earlier.
“No.” Beau tucked his wings down. “The Legion were all members of the Round Table. Knights who were cursed. I was born long after Morgen took Camelot from Arthur.”
“In fact, he was born not too far from here.”
Beau nodded at Blaise. “Uncle Blaise was there for it. Sort of.”
Blaise made his way to the gargoyle. “And you should have spoken up earlier to let me know you were here with Shadow. I thought I felt another presence, but then you went still and I no longer sensed you.”
Beau hugged him. “Sorry, Uncle. You looked busy and I didn’t want to intrude.”
