Primal Temptation

Held immobile by something Lucan couldn’t see, Aren missed seeing Rhiannon throw Maeve through the window. Rhiannon had Mordred’s sword in her hand by the time the other goddess regained her footing.

Maeve shot her brother a helpless look, and vanished.

Rhiannon spun, the blade in her hand going to Aren’s throat. “You wait thousands of years to get even, only to use them to get to me?” She jerked her head to indicate Lucan and Briana.

“She killed their brother,” Briana said, her voice strained. “She broke their triumvirate.”

“I was just returning the favor,” Rhiannon explained without taking her eyes off Aren. “They took both my brothers from me, first.”

“Them, not me,” Aren insisted, betraying no concern over his fate.

The goddess cocked her head.

“I couldn’t stay in the cell any longer, Rhiannon. You needed me.”

Lucan tried to follow the conversation, but Briana started to shiver.

“I’ve never needed you, Merlin.”

Briana’s hand tightened around his at the unexpected return of the exiled sorcerer.

Sighing, Rhiannon let her hand and the sword fall back to her side. “I thought you were still locked up. Where’s Bran, the real one?” she clarified as Aren/Merlin relaxed.

“Back in my cell. Still asleep in my body.”

The real Fae, Lucan realized, had never been competing in the Gauntlet. His body had been no more than a vehicle for Merlin, the same as Aren’s was now. Later he’d ask how the sorcerer pulled off that kind of trick, right after Lucan made him undo what he’d done to Briana.

“You did this to her.” Briana’s hand was the only thing keeping Lucan from going for the sorcerer’s throat. “Make it right.”

He crouched next to them. “I’m sorry, young one. There was no other way to save her. Her death would change everything.”

“Rhiannon’s,” Briana whispered.

Aren/Merlin nodded. “I couldn’t let that happen.” His gaze swept over her. “If there had been another way…”

“You can’t save me.”

It took Briana’s words for Lucan to understand what the sorcerer was really saying.

Lucan launched to his feet, the sorcerer’s throat in his hand and the wraith roaring in outrage. “You will save her.”

“I can’t,” the sorcerer choked out. “There was no other way. I tried to alter the course of my vision during the games but nothing changed the outcome. You still won and Rhiannon still died. Then I realized that Briana was the key. Without her, you would lose the drive to compete.”

“So you tried to make me kill her.” The Fae had been the one pulling his strings when he’d nearly strangled Briana.

“Only with her death would the future correct itself.”

“Fool,” Rhiannon growled. “You know better than anyone that trying to interfere with the visions—”

“You’re an Oracle,” Lucan cut in, realizing that the sorcerer Arthur had trusted since boyhood was one of rare immortals who were also clairvoyant.

“I had to try,” Merlin insisted, his eyes on Rhiannon. “I already lost Arthur. If anything had happened to you…” he broke off, and Lucan thought maybe the god inside him was fighting for control. Merlin shook his head, his hands coming up to brace his temples.

“What’s happening?” Lucan released his grip on the sorcerer.

“Another vision,” Rhiannon guessed.

“No,” Merlin hissed, almost in unison with Briana.

Something hit the floor, and Lucan turned to find the goddess unconscious, the hilt of the dagger lodged in her back.

Behind her prone body, Morgana stood, her eyes narrowed in dark satisfaction. She held up a hand when her gaze fell on Merlin. “I’m the only one who can remove it, and I can’t if I’m dead.”

“How did you—”

“You’re not the only oracle in town, you know,” Morgana offered as though it might explain how she’d managed to out maneuver all the gods and Merlin. “Father.”

Lucan released his grip on the sorcerer, his attention darting to Briana. Merlin was Morgana’s father? That didn’t make any sense. She and Arthur were half-siblings and Arthur’s father had been human. Even Rhiannon had claimed that, told everyone he’d died.

“I wasn’t always as I am now,” Merlin offered.

“You were human once, before you, too, drank from the Grail,” Briana whispered, the wheeze of her breathing rolling into a cough that brought blood to her lips. “You were still human when you fathered Morgana and Arthur.”

Merlin nodded.

“Fathered being a very loose term,” Morgana clarified, her expression dimming when her gaze locked with Briana’s. She scowled at Merlin. “Didn’t Arthur’s death teach you that you cannot stop fate?”

“Our choices are not predetermined,” he argued.

“Maybe not, but the end result often is.” Morgana took a step toward Briana, but that was as far as she got before Lucan was in her face, letting the wraith all but claw its way through his skin.

Arching a brow, the sorceress leaned past him to see Briana. “Are you really, really sure?” She sighed a moment later. “Apparently we really should’ve had that chat about slumming it.” She glanced at Lucan. “You can move your ass, or you can watch her die.”

He didn’t let himself believe a word. “They said—”

“And how many of them are even standing here in their own bodies?” She glanced at Merlin. “No offense.”

“Lucan?” Briana could barely raise her voice above a whisper. “It’s fine.”

Though it went against every protective instinct in his body, he stepped aside. The sorceress crouched next to Briana.

She held out a hand and the Grail appeared in her open palm. “Be a good wraith and put some water in this for me, ’kay?” She waited for him to take it, adding “Seeing as how my father, the body snatcher, didn’t even use it to save Arthur, I don’t think you want to trust him to fill it up.”

“It would have destroyed him,” Merlin snapped.

The Grail could have saved Arthur? Not waiting to hear Merlin’s explanation—Lucan already wanted to tear the sorcerer apart, never mind what the wraith wanted to do—he rushed to fill the chalice with water and hurried back to her.

Morgana waved for him to give it to Briana.

“If she suffers any further,” Lucan warned, his hand tightening around the stem.

“Then your Mr. Hyde will hunt me down, suck me dry and crush my bones to dust.” She rolled her eyes. “I get the gist. Get on with it.”

Briana’s scorching skin heated his palm as he slipped a hand behind her neck. She whimpered, but parted her lips to drink. The seconds ticked off in his head.

Her arms shot out as her body arched off the floor, her eyes rolling back into her head.

No! “What the fuck did you do?” He demanded an explanation though he didn’t let his eyes leave Briana.

“Patience, Lancelot.”

Her body curled inward, her claws scraping the floor as she shifted into her cat from. Eyes a vibrant blue opened as Briana raised her head, her sleek panther form rising to curl around him, purring.

He buried his face in her soft fur, his fingers sinking in until she butted him with her head, telling him that his grip was too tight. Sweet Avalon. He hadn’t lost her.

“You owe me one, Lancelot.”

He met Morgana’s gaze.