sword. Needing only another second, Lucan eased back a fraction—and ended up on his ass.
Briana didn’t waste a second, her weapon poised at his throat, her cat eyes hauntingly wild. “Do you yield?”
“Bested by a woman, Luc?” Constantine moved away, probably to avoid Lucan stabbing the foot that tripped him. “Perhaps you should stick with your horse and fancy spears.” He glanced at Briana. “No one is better than our own La—”
“Perhaps she should be among the Guard, after all.” Arthur joined them, his presence seeming to indicate the mock battle was over and sending the onlookers off in search of more entertainment.
“Forgive me for not curtsying, your highness.” She didn’t take her eyes off Lucan. “I don’t trust your knight not to retaliate.”
Arthur frowned. “Against a woman?”
“It’s not the retaliation I fear.” Her lips twitched. “But embarrassing him further.”
The rough and rich sound of Arthur’s laughter rent the air as he bent, offering an arm to help Lucan up. “Your family is no doubt proud of having another warrior in the family, Lady Briana. Your brothers often brag about their talented baby sister.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “I assure you, I am no child.”
“As Lucan can attest to.” Although Constantine’s lips were pressed into a flat line, Lucan knew the bastard wanted to laugh.
Her cheeks flushed. “I should go.”
Arthur touched her arm, his eyes as perceptive as ever. “Your brothers won’t hear of this if that is your wish,” he reassured her. “Though personally, I think you should claim responsibility. It’s a rare occasion that finds my friend at anyone’s mercy.” He nodded at Lucan.
“Very rare,” Constantine added, drawing a real sword from the scabbard he carried. “Although once they see this, more than just your brothers will have questions.” He offered her the weapon.
Briana’s mouth nearly fell open. “The Blade of the Black Heart?” Her fingers traced the dark etchings that ran the length of the sword.
Constantine nodded. “It’s yours.”
She jerked her hand back as though she’d been burned. “I can’t accept it. You need it to fight Morgana —”
“Any sword will do to slay the sorceress should I ever get close enough.” He shot a sidelong glance at Arthur, whose shoulders tensed at the mention of his half-sister.
“It would be an insult to reject such a gift,” Arthur said.
Not waiting for an answer, Constantine closed her fingers over the hilt.
Possessiveness, hot and sharp, snapped through Lucan. Having absolutely no claim on her or even the freedom to make one, he clenched his jaw and remained quiet. Arthur studied him, something unreadable passing in his oldest friend’s eyes, then he fixed his attention on Briana.
“My knight may think more carefully about approaching you now.”
Uncertain, Briana’s gaze sought Lucan’s, and he nodded, encouraging her to take it. The only thing fiercer than the weapon known for cutting a deadly path through the battlefield was the woman in front of him, yearning to be a warrior like her brothers.
Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she tested the weight of the blade, turning from Lucan to talk with Arthur, who ushered her ahead of him.
“Careful, my friend.” Constantine lowered his voice. “That one is not a plaything.”
He resisted the urge to rub the unsettling tightness in his chest. “It’s the only thing I haven’t forgotten.”
“Then take care. You risk much—”
“I will take my vows.” He hadn’t for a moment forgotten his duties and what he’d worked hard to build with Arthur.
Constantine laughed, slapping him on the back. “I was going to say, you risk much by turning from such a formidable female.” He broke away to catch up to the others, handing Briana the scabbard for the blade, a piece almost as equally impressive as the sword itself.
Then he and Arthur headed in the direction of their tents.
Alone with Briana once more, Lucan knew it was time to escort her back to her family’s tents. Maybe then he could ignore the overwhelming sensation to hold onto her for as long as he could.
They stuck close to the dark tree-line as they worked their way back across the meadow. She would have enough questions to face in the morning without running into one of her brothers now.
Briana said little on their trek back, though he sensed there were things she wanted to ask. Worried he might not be able to say no to any request she made, he picked up the pace making conversation difficult, and making it impossible to avoid the scene they walked into when they rounded the next grouping of tents.
Hidden in the shadows of the trees, two bodies were wrapped up in each other, clothes already half peeled off—the woman’s—the sounds of their moaning teasing the air.
He stopped, and distracted by her sword, Briana plowed right into him. Keeping them both upright was nearly as challenging as pretending he didn’t love every moment of her pressed up against him.
“This way,” he whispered, leading her into the woods, giving the couple a wide berth.
Guessing his reason for changing directions, she fell into step beside him, her footing more sure than his own on the uneven terrain. “I am aware that mated couples kiss now and then. Even unmated ones.” He heard the smile in her voice, and the mischievous look was back in her eyes. “You do know that Merlin didn’t simply leave me at my parents door one day?” She bent her head conspiratorially. “Or do you still believe in gnomes that bring treats in exchange for lost teeth as well?”
“Wench,” he teased. “And what would you know about kissing?” Somehow, he doubted her brothers knew anything about that.
“Kissing? I know about a lot more than—”
Groaning at the tantalizing images their conversation was about to inspire, he cut her off. “Just answer the question.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking it over. “I can only say that I’ve been told I’m rather good at it.”
“According to…” he prompted, realizing too late that he was fairly sure he didn’t want to know the answer.
“My friend, Vaughn.”
He made a sound of disgust. “The boy always trailing after Cian?”
“Boy?” Briana laughed. “He’s barely a season younger than you are.”
“And one kiss makes you a rather good at it?”
“Who said anything about just one?” Her eyes twinkled, and she stopped. “You almost sound like I couldn’t handle more, or maybe just not yours. The same as I couldn’t handle your sword game?”
Lucan lunged for her, catching her around the waist before she could bolt, and hauling her to his chest.
Briana read the playful intent on Lucan’s face as easily as she had her brothers’ tracks that afternoon, but couldn’t evade capture. Not that she really wanted to.
“If you’re not prepared to use it…” he trailed off, angling his head at the sword jammed between them.
She let it fall to the ground at their feet. “I could say the same to you.” Her gaze strayed to his mouth that felt only a breath away.
Even if she’d had the chance, she wouldn’t have run. Wouldn’t have missed the feel of his arms trapping her against him, or the rapid rise and fall of his chest, as though his heart was racing too.
Lucan watched her, his expression unreadable. Gods, had she only imagined he felt the same feverish spark every time they touched?
Losing some of her courage, she shook her head. “If there is somewhere else you need to be—”
Something dark and a little bit feral flashed in his eyes. There was barely a second to prepare, and then his mouth closed over hers.
Hot and raw and mindlessly thorough, the kiss assaulted her senses. She clutched his shoulders, the
