lay next to it where the Korrigan had tossed it aside.
“You’ve declined our invitation to participate?” Maeve pouted.
The Korrigan nodded.
“If that is your decision.” Aren lifted a hand and the vine covered wall that enclosed the courtyard parted, revealing a dense jungle on the other side.
The Korrigan walked toward it without looking back. As he disappeared into the surrounding foliage, Maeve sat up straighter. “Does anyone else wish to decline?”
Briana watched Lucan from the corner of her eye, but he made no move to approach the gazebo. The enchantress took a step forward, looking unsure.
A scream rang out and seconds later chunks of the earth rained down on the courtyard. No, Briana quickly amended. Chunks of Korrigan, including his head, which landed directly at the enchantress’s feet.
Hand over her mouth, the enchantress spun away from the gruesome sight. The Fae who sat on the ground, his back against a low stone wall, tipped his head up toward the gods. “I thought we could refuse?”
Aren nodded. “We did indeed say that. But we never said you would be allowed to live if you declined.”
Maeve giggled. “The competition begins at midnight.” The pair vanished along with the gazebo.
“Well, that settles it.” Vaughn glanced at Elena. “I guess you’re gonna get to spend more time with me, beautiful.”
Chapter Seven
Lucan stared at the door leading to Briana’s room but made no move to knock.
He knew he should apologize. He just wasn’t entirely sure what for. For sounding like a bastard when he warned her that she couldn’t trust anyone in this competition, not even him? Or for lying to her? Again.
He pushed away from the wall, taking two steps toward the door that loomed in front of him. The need to set things right between them ate at him. He just didn’t know what
Every time Briana got too close, she blurred the lines that kept him from making a mistake. Being with her —being anywhere near her—was a mistake that had hurt them both before, and here he stood with only a door separating them.
Bracing his hands on the frame, Lucan closed his eyes. Downstairs he could watch the others, shadow them while they remained oblivious to his presence, noting their strategies and skills. Instead he had to talk himself out of speaking to Briana for just a few minutes, as if that would ever be enough time to make up for the pain he’d already caused.
He reached a hand out to knock. The sight of his hand, pale and tinged an icy blue, stopped him. Although he didn’t feel the wraith’s presence, threatening his control, he spun away from the door.
Maybe it was better if he said nothing. If he smoothed things over—if that was even possible—he risked making her think she could rely on him throughout the competition.
A potentially costly mistake for both of them.
But how could he protect her if she continued to avoid him as she had since their last conversation?
Another glance at the door had him imagining her sitting at a desk, her dark brows scrunched in concentration, her fingers gliding across the keys of her laptop. More than a few times he’d caught a glimpse of her that way in her brother’s office at Pendragon’s or at her family’s home. Lost in concentration, she always remained unaware of his presence for long minutes, giving him time to watch every nuance of thought cross her face while she worked.
Frustration turned her cheeks a flattering pink while eagerness made her bite her bottom lip. Her eyes always narrowed slightly when something seemed to puzzle her, and her feet bounced nonstop when she was close to finishing something.
Each time their paths had crossed in recent months had been an opportunity to discover something new about her, until he’d found himself lingering a little longer, drawing out each moment until they almost pained him.
Despite their past, she’d always been quick to greet him with a smile, never realizing how such an innocent gesture—or worse, the feel of her skin brushing his—could so easily rattle him.
A fuzzy tingling started in his chest and he glanced down, frowning. What the hell?
A surge of power snapped through his body, an electrical current arcing through him. Spikes of green—the same as when they’d been snatched off the street outside Pendragon’s—filled his vision. The world swayed at the edges, and then he found himself standing in the mansion’s courtyard.
The sun had gone down hours ago, replaced by the glow of the moon that cast shadows across the group of immortals summoned once more without warning. The wolf looked ready to unleash his animal half, but Kel managed to simply look bored. If not for the tensing in the dragon’s sword hand, a subtle gesture Lucan recognized from their years spent training together, Lucan might have assumed he was far more in control than the other gargoyle.
Briana on the other hand… Was she excited? Eyes bright, she rocked on the balls of her feet with barely- contained energy. In place of the subtle aggression that Vaughn and Kel exuded, a hint of excitement hummed on the air around her.
Something was wrong. She couldn’t be looking forward to this, could she?
Careful to keep his scrutiny under the radar, he watched her from the corner of his eye, equally aware that the Fae was doing the same thing to Lucan.
Bran had made himself scarce most of the day, appearing long enough to witness the Korrigan’s dismemberment. Twice after that Lucan had been certain the old one was near, but hadn’t shown himself. The immortal made no effort to hide his own scrutiny.
Lucan returned the Fae’s critical gaze, making it perfectly clear the old one didn’t intimidate him in the least. Bran’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced away.
Message received then.
Lucan shifted his attention back to Briana, unexpectedly comforted by the sight of her in darkness. The night glow brightening her face was familiar, steady—and something he knew better than to rely on to keep him grounded should he lose himself to the monster Rhiannon created, the one stirring restlessly beneath the surface.
He blamed that on the fact that she moved closer to Nessa and Elena, clearly ignoring his advice. Maybe she was reluctant to doubt Nessa, but she couldn’t be foolish enough to trust the sorceress who had cursed and imprisoned Briana’s own brother for over a century.
Elena was no more of an ally than the Fae. She knew the power of Constantine’s daggers and no doubt had a taste for the strong magic she’d inadvertently used to trap Cian.
Lucan could only imagine the lure of Excalibur for an immortal entrenched in magic from birth. Wars between houses of sorcerers were legendary, their constant battles for more power almost as well-known as Morgana’s lust for Camelot.
A bolt of lightning struck the group and sparks chased away the shadows cast by the trees.
“Almost rivals a Vegas show opening,” Elena quipped under her breath.
If Maeve heard or understood her meaning, the goddess gave no indication. “I want to formally thank you all for participating in our games.”
Silence greeted her remark, and she cast her gaze around, eyes tightening at the corners. Apparently she’d been expecting a more enthusiastic response.
“The first competition begins shortly.” She gestured to her brother.
Aren stepped forward. “You are looking for three gems, the Eyes of the Afanc.” He held up a stone three times larger than a marble. The stone gleamed in iridescent shades of blue, then red, and finally black. “When a stone is in close proximity to another, the gem will glow, making it easier to locate the next one.”
Making it easier to track and take them from each other, Lucan silently added. He knew little of the Afanc beyond that Arthur had slain the creature, chaining and dragging the beast from the lake where it had ruthlessly
