Set in Stone: A Contemporary Adventure Romance Novel (Legend Book 1) Page 8

  I circled the manikin like a hunter stalking its prey. A flurry of quick steps and masterful strokes and all four limbs fell to the ground, and one head joined them. In my self-absorption, I had screamed in rage. M appeared from the shadows like a troubled parent, watching his child have a temper tantrum.

  I pointed my sword at him, glowering. “Why did you have to do that?” It sounded like more of a growl than words.

  M remained collected. “Sir, we made a deal, if memory serves me correctly. That deal was also made with her knowledge.” He made the entire situation sound so simple.

  “She is not the same person who asked for that contract! She has no idea who or what she is. You know that, dammit!” I kicked the head of the manikin over to M.

  He stopped it like a soccer ball under his polished shoe. “Perhaps you need more of a cool-down? A hack or a nap might do the trick.”

  M was trying to smooth over the situation.

  I hated when M was like this. He ignored everything . . . acted as if he knew nothing when he knew everything. Nothing slipped past him.

  “Perhaps what I need is a good fight.” The storm raged in my blood.

  M’s mouth flickered downward in a slight frown. Taking off his thin-rimmed glasses, he sighed.

  “Very well then, sir.” M went to the wall where dozens of swords hung waiting to be used. They were from different eras, styles, and countries. He selected a katana and pulled it respectfully from its sheath.

  I paced in the center of a large mat, shaking my arms to warm them. I could hear the pulsing vibrations coming from my heap of work clothes on the floor. I had quickly exchanged them for a pair of shorts. Excalibur, or Exi, for short, called for me— begged for me, pleaded with me to defend myself with it. Closing my eyes, I tried to explain there was no danger. The poor thing never believed me.

  “Shall we?” M touched my sword gently before his light feet danced him backward.

  The fight was on.

  With a growl, I lunged for him. M and I had had our share of fights and rifts, but what had transpired with Alexandria the other day made my blood boil. M easily ducked and blocked my swings. My head wasn’t in the right place to be fighting someone like M. He had been the first to place a blade in my hand. My legs were trembling from my prior extensive workout, and the sword felt like lead in my hand. M didn’t instigate any attacks; he just defended.

  “You cannot say you aren’t at least a bit pleased with what we’ve managed to accomplish in such a short time.” He spoke as if he were at a dinner party, nonchalant and overly pleasant.

  The resonance of our swords clashing rang through the air.

  “You took away her choice!” I barked.

  “Ah-ah, you took away her choice. And in a sad state of affairs, she did this to herself,” M replied. “All those years ago she begged for us to find a way, and now, we have.”

  “Argh!” I charged again, turning to kick him, and he faltered slightly.

  The annoyed expression that played on his brows pleased me. Good.

  “You were always one to run in headfirst without looking, Avalon.” M’s annoyed gaze turned to smug satisfaction.

  “What . . .” I fell to my knees with a grunt, clutching the side I had left open in the kick. When I pulled my hand away from the searing pain of my ribs, blood greeted me. “You arse.” M had sliced my side with his blade when I had blindly charged. I had left myself open for an attack.

  “You wanted a fight, Avalon, not me.” M kneeled down in front of my crumpled form. “Perhaps you should start thinking logically again as you used to? Hmm? Not throwing your emotions too far ahead of you but keeping them at bay.”

  “Sod off!” It was a weak snarl because deep down, he was right.

  “She did this to herself. In this life or not, Alexandria doesn’t have any more choices as far as you are concerned. Christine made her choice a long time ago, and now, you will collect on it.” M placed a hand on my shoulder. “Remember what our goal is; don’t let the years wear on you too much.”

  “What exactly did you do to that contract?” I had to know. I had a right to know.

  M sighed. “It is a type of a blood-binding contract. There are three different kinds. I used one of them to our advantage.” He paused, rubbing my shoulder. “It is all well done, sir.”

  I winced as I tried to move against the throbbing pain in my side. “Is there a way to break it? In case we must in order to save her?”

  His eyes grew soft. “Always thinking of how to save her, aren’t you?”

  I snorted. “Of course, I am.”

  “Her memories of you and of this place will have to be erased.” His voice was matter of fact. “Something of equal value to the soul must be given to please the contract. Since memories are precious to a soul, they shall suffice.”

  An ache rose in my chest.

  “Is there no other way?” I asked.

  M hesitated. “If and when that time comes, I shall investigate. But as far as I know, that is the only way.”

  With a nod, I agreed. “Very well.”

  The pain slowly started to recede. I could already tell the bleeding had stopped. The wonders of my body made me sick. Every time I lost her, I lost a bit more of myself. How many times could one cheat death? Looking up into M’s expressionless sea green eyes, I had no answer. On the day I would stand at the gates of heaven and knock, would anyone answer?

  I ate dinner that night alone in my chamber. My side had healed to nothing more than an angry red line across my ribs. With any luck, when I awoke tomorrow morning, it wouldn’t even be there. I stared into the fire that danced and cracked before me. My hand gripped the arm of the chair. I tried to rid myself of the vision of her by resting my eyes.

  Her.

  Alexandria York.

  What I wouldn’t give to just strip her of all reserve and make her understand; make her see the truth. With a sigh, I let my eyes open, half lidded as I also longed for other things. I longed to kiss her, bed her, take her. I took a sip of whiskey, allowing the burn to rake down my throat and warm my gut. Without trying, she attempted to melt something hard, cold, and ancient—my heart. She wouldn’t win. She couldn’t win. I had to win. I would make her love me, and then I could use her for what I needed most—my freedom.

  The curse that Mordred had placed upon me and upon those around me chained me to hell on Earth. Whenever I thought back on that day, at the end, one person had been on my mind—my queen. I regretted how I had abandoned her, treated her so unfairly, and then punished her when I found out about her infidelity. I had done her so much wrong, and in a sick and twisted way, Mordred had given me a second chance to make it right. And now, Alexandria held the key to all of our fates.

  Staring into the fire, I whispered, “I am King Arthur no more . . . but Avalon . . .”

  I walked to the edge of my bed and placed the whiskey on the side table. Cavall watched me before lowering his head back to the carpet. I played with the ring on my right hand, twisting it around my finger and thinking hard. I hadn’t gone to her in a while. I fought myself every night not to. Sometimes, I succeeded and fell into a dark sleep. Other times, I failed and relieved myself in frustration. Or I fell to my knees, asking a god I was sure was sick of my excuses for forgiveness.

  I settled down on the rich fabrics and comfortable down mattress and pillows. I had made up my mind. She was mine. Closing my eyes, I drifted. The pull of gravity thrust me into her world of dreams.

  My feet walked along a long, stone hallway. Hands sought the wall for guidance as I turned a dark corner. My fingers grasped a handle and opened the door. A flood of light filled the hall and engulfed me as I stepped inside. As soon as the door shut behind me, the white light fluttered with reds and burnt orange. I was beginning to think she thought of me as both a beautiful dream and her darkest nightmare. Each time I stepped into the realm of her dreams, the pure white marred with passionate reds.

  She sat with her back to me on a large w
indow seat, her body covered by only a pale pink nightgown. My hands twitched, wanting to touch her, but I held them steady.

  “You came back.” Her voice sounded relieved.

  Arching a brow, I halted. “Of course, I did. Why would I not?”

  “What I said the last time . . . it bothered you.”

  She didn’t turn to face me—she wouldn’t. We had an understanding. I continued my way to her, brandishing the blindfold.

  “It would bother any man to hear a name that wasn’t his spoken in the heat of passion.” The gap now closed, I placed the blindfold in front of her.

  She said nothing, so I tied it gently. I breathed her in, nuzzling against her ear. Her scent was faint, but it was enough to intoxicate me.

  “Why can’t I look at you?” she breathed.

  My lips grazed the shell of her ear. Her entire body shivered before her head tilted, allowing me room to play. Kissing along her neck, I chuckled.

  “Isn’t it more fun this way? The danger, the excitement?” I let my hand run along her bare arm. “The sensations . . .” Her skin was cool to my hot touch.

  “I don’t know who or what you are.” Alexandria finally turned to face me.

  I paused. I could feel her eyes shooting daggers at me from beneath the cloth. Leaning closer, I rubbed my nose against hers. Full lips parted in a gasp at the gesture. I took the invitation and kissed her deeply. One hand caged her to the seat while the other raked through her long hair, resting at the base of her neck.

  “I am a man, just a man.” My whisper came through uneven breathing.

  She kissed back every time, and every time, she threatened to drown me.

  Siren.

  “If you are just a man, then how come I suddenly started dreaming of you?” She spoke against my lips. “You know, they say every face you dream of is one you’ve seen? Perhaps, I’ve seen you.”

  I chuckled. She was smart. “Nice try but no. Perhaps, you’ve never seen me; perhaps, I’ve just always been there.” Without warning, I picked her up bridal style and walked her to the large bed.

  “I don’t understand.” Her distress concerned me.

  “I am a part of your dreams. Perhaps, you created me to fill a void. Did someone leave you?” I laid her down and carefully climbed onto the bed. God, she was divine. Her body was practically bare, the nightgown’s silk not leaving anything to the imagination. The pressure in my trousers grew tighter by the second.

  Her lips drew together in a thin line. Her furrowed eyebrows conveyed her sorrow. “Yes.”

  “You loved him?” I traced over her throat, moving between pert breasts, down the center of her stomach, and halting just above the space between her hips.

  She inhaled. “Yes, I did.”

  “Do you still?” Her jaw clenched as I played back and forth between her hipbones. Her body was reacting perfectly. I was helping her to let go.

  “A part of me does, yes.” Her hand reached down and caught my own.

  I allowed her to trace my fingers, caress them, and interlace them with hers. The gesture was small, but I watched, completely captivated by her. She was so focused; I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Perhaps, I am the man you wish you had—yet do not. Therefore, you cannot see me.” I brought her hand to my lips and kissed softly. “You may have me, though.”

  “You feel so familiar,” she mused. Sitting up and reaching her hand out to my face, she hesitated. “May I?”

  I blinked. “May you what?”

  “Touch you.”

  My stomach twisted, and a deep ache grew.

  Yes, please, touch me.

  Caress me.

  Anything you want to do, please do!

  My body and mind screamed for intimacy, but I shoved it aside.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What are you going to do?”

  “Map you . . . Since I cannot see you, maybe I can get an idea of what you look like.” She said it as though it were an afterthought.

  “Map me?” I snorted. “Go ahead . . . but then I get to map you.”

  I saw her hesitation, but she nodded. “Deal.”

  I wanted to groan. She shouldn’t be making any more deals, least of all with me. She pulled me over her on the bed, and I landed on the soft mattress.

  “Stay there. Don’t move.”

  “Yes, my lady.” I chuckled. I’d let her have her fill, and then it would be my turn.

  Alexandria started by running her hands through my hair, massaging through the strands. Before I could say anything, she moved to my face.

  Wordlessly, I watched the concentration on her brows and taut lips. I hated to admit it, but I wished I could see the expression in her eyes. Her hair fell in waves over her shoulders, creating a veil for us. Soft hands caressed my features, from the curve of my nose to the arch of my brow. She didn’t miss a detail as she ran the pads of her thumbs over both cheeks. I couldn’t move. How many nights had I longed for a touch such as this?

  I succumbed to her caring hands. Alexandria’s fingertips found my lips. My mouth fell open slightly. She traced them before her lips caught me completely off guard. She crushed against me in a heated kiss that had me floundering on the bed for a moment before she released me. Lost for words, I glowered at her, breathing hard.

  “That wasn’t fair,” I snarled as my desire for her grew with every touch.

  “You’re not fair.” She smirked, and she pressed her finger to my nose.

  To my surprise, her touch eased my annoyance. “Just get on with it, so I can do the same to you.” My voice was low and dripping with lust.

  Her smile faltered a bit, but she moved her hands down my neck. From my neck, they splayed on bare, broad shoulders. Moving them inward again, she ran over my collarbone and down my chest.

  I didn’t deprive myself of the pleasure of the flesh. Granted, it had been some time, and none of the women stayed longer than a week or so. Yet this touch, this touch wasn’t just external. She reached through to my very core. Her touch was so familiar; it caused my hand to reach out and caress her cheek while she touched along my sides.

  My body betrayed me horrendously. I shivered under her ministrations as she traced every line of muscle on my abdomen. My breathing became uneven as she played with the cut muscles that led past my pants. She didn’t ask. In a flurry, her hands made quick work of my button and zipper, pulling the trousers down and off.

  “Wha—? I . . .” I growled in my chest but not in anger, in need.

  She was playing with a very hot fire. She couldn’t see me, but she’d feel nothing beneath. She wouldn’t be so bold.

  Her hands moved from my hips down to my thigh. Her neck tensed as she swallowed hard, realizing I lay naked next to her. Alexandria continued to test, touch, and stroke every inch of my body.

  Why?

  What did she wish to gain?

  Over the knee, along my calf, around the top of my foot, she mapped me.

  My heart thundered as she made the journey back up.

  She wouldn’t.

  She was shy.

  She was cautious.

  She was the woman I’d met on the trail, at her art show, and in my home. Yet when her fingers brushed my weakest point, I sat upright and choked on my thoughts. I held her wrist in my hand, as I sat there shaking.

  “What?” Her voice was quiet.

  I swallowed, shaking my head. “Why—why would you do that?”

  “Because I wanted to.”

  “You did?” I stared at her in disbelief. Maybe there was more to this woman than I knew. Perhaps, there was a fire burning that could equal mine?

  She shrugged. “It was there, and I was curious. Why did you jump?”

  There was that smirk I wanted to kiss off her face.

  “Did you think me too weak to touch you?” she asked.

  I yanked her to the bed and rolled over her. My hands gathered her wrists above her head. Her chest rose and fell in anticipation. I could taste the lust between us.

/>   The desirous want.

  The carnal need.

  It was her fault the space between my legs was filled and aching now.

  “I don’t know what to think.” I was being honest as I whispered along her jaw. “It’s my turn to map you. May I?”

  A manicured brow arched. “Why are you asking?”

  “I never take what is not rightfully mine.” Kissing her cheek, I waited. When she didn’t answer, I pressed on. “How long has it been?”

  “Excuse you?” Her voice was sharp.

  “How long has it been since you’ve had a man?” My lips teased over hers.

  “Too long.” Her tone grew breathless and husky.

  A rush of heat went right down between my thighs. Damn, she was sexy. She was beautiful. I shook my head and focused on what I wanted.

  “How long?” My voice was harsher this time. I needed to know how long the other man had been gone. I needed to know for my own jealous sake.

  “Almost two years.” Her lower lip trembled. “He left a year and a half ago.”

  Something in her voice moved my soul. I felt my face melt from irritation to concern. Was she crying under the fold? Had he hurt her that much?

  “Are you all right?” I released one of her tiny wrists to caress her face.

  At first, she nodded yes then sniffed and shook her head.

  “He hurt you, deep within, didn’t he?” My voice was gentle, a rarity.

  Just as I’ve been hurt.

  “I thought I was going to marry him.” Her voice caught in her throat.

  It was as though someone had kicked me in the chest. I fought with myself for the right path to take.

  Make her better! Take her; pretend you can love her! Pleasure her. Be her fantasy.

  Hold her, caress her, and tell her it’s all right.

  Take her pain away. Make her scream your name. Screw her to the point she forgets that arse.

  Listen to her. Kiss her softly, and be her rock. Her protector. Her knight. Her king.