Sword of Darkness

Chapter 4



Kerrigan reclined against the cushioned seat of his large,black throne as he watched Morgen "entertain" the other members of hercercle du damné .

Like him, most of the other one hundred and forty-nine men and women of their brotherhood had once been human. Some of them had even sat at the Round Table with Arthur and pledged their swords to goodness.

But there was no goodness or humanity left here in Camelot. Much like its famed king, it was long gone and would most likely never be seen again.

With one hand resting on the dragon head carved into the arm of his throne, Kerrigan tipped his goblet back to drink deep of a wine that could never nourish him.

Nor could it make him drunk.

"Come, my king," a beautiful Adoni female begged as she approached his dais. Her long black gown plunged all the way past her navel, baring to his gaze most of her abdomen and breasts—the tips of which had been painted a vivid red to stand out as they puckered invitingly against the sheer material of her dress. She was an amply endowed woman who would most likely please him for a moment or two. "Will you not join us for a dance?"

Kerrigan slid his black gaze to the gathering where his demon knights danced with the fey. Some of them were already sprawling half naked in corners, uncaring of who watched them as they sought to sate their bodies. The loud dance music that played through the room came from CDs that Morgen had brought back from her journeys into the future—like many of the residents here, she loved the grace and style of the medieval, but preferred the conveniences and toys of future societies. And one of her penchants was for a style of early twenty-first-century music known as Dark Wave. Rather fitting, all things considered.

Personally, he could take or leave the music. For that matter, he could take or leave the inhabitants of Camelot.

He'd long grown weary of this place and of the creatures who called it home. He wanted more than the cold passion of the fey who gave their kisses and bodies without care. One cock was as good to them as any other.

"Begone from me," he snapped at her.

The Adoni's eyes flashed red. She would attack except she knew the folly of such an action. Curling her lip, she left him to seek out another of the knights.

"What say you, my lord? Are you ill?"

Kerrigan tensed at the voice that came from behind his throne. "Don't stand behind me, Blaise. Not if you wish to continue living in your current state."

The tall, lithe mandrake moved forward to stand to the left of Kerrigan's throne. Born with albinism, Blaise had been cast out by his superstitious people when he'd been barely more than a babe.

His eyes were a pale, unforgiving shade of violet. He wore his snow white hair in a long braid that fell over one shoulder, to his waist. His skin was a deep, golden tan that belied what most expected from one with his condition. It was a common misconception that all of those with albinism were completely lacking color. If not for the fact that he knew the mandrake took pride in his physical differences, Kerrigan would have suspected the darkness of Blaise's skin to be from his magic.

In human form, Blaise could barely see at all. He used his magic to sense where others and objects were around him. But as a dragon…his vision was sharp and clear.

He was without a doubt one of the most powerful mandrakes in service to Kerrigan and the closest thing to a friend he'd ever known. Though to be honest, Kerrigan didn't understand why the mandrake chose his company.

If he didn't know better, he might actually think the mandrake liked him.

Kerrigan took another sip of his drink.

"Why do you not participate in the orgy, my king?" Blaise asked quietly.

"Why do you not?"

Blaise shrugged. "I sensed your discomfort. Your restlessness. I was hoping to find a way to amuse you, my lord. Do you wish me to take dragon form?"

"Nay. A ride will do nothing to improve my mood." Not even bloodshed would ease the fire that currently simmered deep in his loins.

Only Seren could sate his mood.

But she had trusted him, and for some insane reason he couldn't name, he didn't want to violate that trust.

Suddenly the music in the hall changed. Kerrigan grimaced as he heard Morgen's favorite song from a century far ahead of the one in which he'd been born. Moments such as this, he hated that they could travel through time.

Morgen danced to the beat of it as her male Adoni consorts circled her.

He groaned.

Blaise's expression remained stoic. "Does my king not like INXS?"

"I did until your lady decided to play it to the point of nausea." If he never heard "Need You Tonight" again, it would be too soon.

Morgen swayed to the music. She turned around, looked at him, and crooked her finger for him to join her.

Kerrigan shook his head.

He felt her powers invading him, pulling at him. But he refused to let her control him. Those days were long past.

Closing his eyes, he summoned his own song. Papa Roach's "Do or Die."

Morgen's eyes blazed at him as he gave her a taunting smile. The music immediately returned to INXS with "Devil Inside."

"You are either the bravest man ever born, my king, or the most foolish," Blaise whispered beside him.

"Perhaps I am both," he said before drinking.

"It appears our king is possessed of malaise," Morgen said to the group as she approached his throne. "What do you think we should do to cheer him?"

One of her Adoni males moved forward to whisper in her ear.

Morgen smiled evilly. "Aye, my pet. I think that would be a wonderful idea."

Kerrigan yawned at her. Knowing the Adoni, whatever the idea, it was guaranteed to only bore him more.

Two heartbeats later, Seren appeared before Morgen.

He sat up instantly and handed his cup to Blaise. "What are you doing, Morgen?" he demanded.

Seren looked around with panic in her heart. She'd been alone in her room, trying to find a way to escape. The next thing she'd known, she was here in a gilded hall with horrible music playing that thumped like a frantic heartbeat.

The voice of the singer was wickedly smooth, but the words were unintelligible to her.

There were beautiful men and women all around her, mixed with the twisted graylings and other things that appeared to be demons of some sort.

But the woman who caught her attention most was the one beside her who wore a dress so red, it didn't look natural. It looked as though the material itself were bleeding.

The woman's long blond hair was worn in tiny braids that were held in an intricate design around the crown of her head with jewel-tipped pins. She approached Seren with a sinister twist to her lips. The woman grabbed Seren's long blue manche sleeve and pulled at it angrily. "Who put her in this?"

Kerrigan came instantly to his feet as his eyes turned a vibrant red that matched the woman's dress. "I did."

The woman hissed at him. "You know the laws here, Kerrigan. I am queen of the fey, and no one wears such a color in my world. No one!"

"And I am the law here, Morgen. It goes with my crown. That is, unless you wish to challenge me for it."

Seren swallowed at his words as she stared anew at the woman who held her sleeve. Could this truly be the famed Morgen le Fey? Sister to Arthur and mother to Mordred?

If she was, then this sorceress held wicked powers that could enable her to take the form of beasts and enchant anyone she chose. There was no telling what she could do to them.

It was a sobering thought.

"I will challenge him for you, my lady," one of the handsome knights offered as he moved forward in the crowd.

Morgen arched a brow at that as a slow, evil smile curved her seductive lips. "A challenger. Why, Kerrigan, it appears your reign may be over." She grabbed Seren roughly and pulled her toward a door.

Kerrigan moved toward them with deep, angry strides. "Release her, Morgen. Now!"

Seren fought against the woman's hold. When Morgen refused to let her loose, Seren bit her.

Morgen screamed and released her instantly.

With nowhere else to go, Seren ran toward Kerrigan. He met her and placed himself between her and the other woman. The sound of steel scraping steel rang out as he drew his sword forth to confront them.

Seren trembled as she looked about for somewhere else to flee to, but the crowd of people wasn't conducive to such. They completely encircled her and Kerrigan. No doubt they would fling her back toward Morgen if she dared to run. Therefore, her safest course of action would be to stand with Kerrigan.

Morgen arched a brow at Kerrigan's raised sword. "Well, isn't this interesting? I haven't seen fire in your cheeks in centuries, Kerrigan. Tell me what it is about this pathetic little human that you would dare raise your sword against me in protection of her?"

"You gave her to me, Morgen. Remember? You said she was mine to do with as I please until she ceases to be of use to us. And I protect what is mine, whether it is this throne, my sword…or her."

"That's far from comforting," Seren said in a tone she was sure Morgen and the others couldn't hear.

Kerrigan passed her an irritated glare.

She stared her own ire back at him. "Well, I'm not your shoes," she whispered. "I am a person…with value."

The withering look on his face said he might not share her view.

"Are you rebelling?" Morgen asked him.

He turned his heated stare at the fey queen. "Are you?"

Her insidious laughter rang out over the music and echoed in the hall. Morgen crossed the distance between them. With an unparalleled daring, she brushed his sword aside with her hand so that she stood toe to toe with him.

"Careful, my lord," she said in an almost sweet tone. "Remember who it is who gave you your power. Damé Fortune is fickle. One day a peasant, the next a king, and the day after, a peasant again."

He didn't flinch. "One day a sorceress, the next a bad memory."

Seren gasped as the Morgen's eyes slithered between yellow and orange.

"Tostig," she snapped at the knight who had agreed to fight Kerrigan. "Don your armor. Kill the king and you shall replace him."

Seren sucked her breath in sharply at those words. She was quite certain that if the black knight was dethroned, she wouldn't fare very well.

Kerrigan shook his head. "Stand down, Tostig. I've no wish to thin my army needlessly."

Black armor, the likes of which Seren had never seen before, appeared on the knight's body before he drew a black sword with the strangest blade she'd ever beheld. Instead of a straight blade, it was rippled and shone with an eerie green light.

Kerrigan gave a heavy sigh as if the matter of the fight merely bored him. He turned toward her. "Seren, stay with Blaise until I kill him." He pushed her gently into the arms of a man who was every bit as eerie as Morgen. "Guard her, mandrake."

Blaise nodded grimly as he pulled her to the side.

Kerrigan, unlike his opponent, didn't bother with a helm as he stood ready to fight. Indeed, he appeared as nonchalant as a man waiting for a friend to join him. There was nothing in his stance or countenance to say that he was about to fight to the death.

Seren frowned as she saw Tostig whisper to another knight. Unlike Kerrigan, he appeared nervous and uncertain.

"What is he doing?" she asked Blaise. "Is it some spell against Kerrigan?"

"Nay," he said in a flat tone. "He's not strong enough for that. Tostig is new to our company. He is asking the men around him for Kerrigan's weakness."

"And that is?"

One corner of his mouth lifted into a knowing smirk. "None."

She scoffed at that. "All men have a weakness."

"Men do, but Kerrigan is no longer human." As if to prove his words, a large, black shield appeared on Kerrigan's arm out of nowhere. "There is no way to defeat him, and Tostig is being told that by the others. It's why no one, not even Morgen, dares to challenge him for power."

She watched as Tostig went from knight to knight. There was no pity on their faces, nor was there any help as one by one they shook their heads at him.

"I grow weary of waiting, Tostig," Kerrigan said in a bored voice. "Either fight me or cede your challenge."

Morgen faced the knight with a condescending sneer. "Have you grown craven, Tostig? Where is my new champion and future king?"

The knight let out an unholy bellow as he raised his sword and ran at Kerrigan, who deflected him with ease. The crowd fanned out, giving them a large circle in the center to fight.

Seren went weak as she watched the two powerful warriors encircling each other. In spite of what Blaise had said, she was nervous. Should something happen to Kerrigan, there was no telling what Morgen or the victor would do to her.

Kerrigan might be frightening, but he was the devil she knew. She sensed heat in him, even wickedness; however, there was no true malice there. Not like she felt whenever Morgen or the others looked at her.

Tostig attacked again, striking Kerrigan's sword with a powerful blow that caused sparks to fly from it. Kerrigan raised his round shield that held what appeared to be a dragon devouring a castle and used it to drive the other knight back.

Tostig twisted and swung for Kerrigan's waist. Kerrigan deflected the blow, then shoved the knight away with his shield. Tostig staggered a bit before he returned with a swing that barely missed Kerrigan's neck. Only Kerrigan's speed and agility kept it from making contact. He immediately parried with a thrust that cut across Tostig's arm.

The knight cried out, but didn't falter as he attacked, and again Kerrigan parried.

While the men fought, Morgen approached Seren with a wicked and delighted smile on her beautiful face.

Blaise pulled Seren back from the fey queen.

"Don't worry, mandrake," Morgen all but purred, "I mean your charge no harm."

Blaise scoffed. "You mean everyone harm, Morgen."

Morgen laughed.

A chill went down Seren's spine as Morgen moved closer…so close that she couldn't move without making contact with the woman. She tried to step nearer to Blaise, only to find her body unwilling to obey. It was as if someone else was controlling her.

"Kerrigan is incredible, isn't he?" Morgen asked her as she moved to stand just at her back.

Seren agreed, but couldn't answer. It felt as if her vocal cords were frozen.

"Look at the way he moves," Morgen whispered softly in her ear, her voice strangely echoing through her head. "He twirls, he parries, and then he thrusts and thrusts again. Look at the power of him. The strength. The masculine beauty. In all the world there are only a few who can match him in fairness of form. None who could touch him for savagery or mercilessness." Morgen breathed in her ear. "It makes you lust for him, doesn't it?"

A strange, foreign heat went through Seren at the words. It was as if her body were pierced by a bittersweet pleasure.

"Mor—" Blaise's words were cut short as Morgen waved her hand.

Seren glanced to see the mandrake every bit as frozen as she was. Morgen stepped even closer to her until their bodies were touching.

"Watch him, Seren," she commanded.

Seren had no choice except to obey.

"Look at the way his muscles strain as he fights," Morgen breathed in her ear, causing chills to run the length of her body. "The way his beautiful black hair flies in the wind with every advance, every studied movement. The beauty of his face as he grimaces in fearsome combat."

Morgen brushed the hair back from Seren's shoulder as she leaned even closer to whisper directly into her ear. She snaked her arm around Seren's waist in what could only be called a lover's embrace.

"Now imagine all the power of him sliding deep inside you, Seren." Something wickedly warm and erotic flicked deep at the core of her body to emphasize those words. The pleasure of it actually made her gasp. "Imagine him stretching your virgin's flesh until he fills you completely. Think of the sensation of his hands caressing your naked skin…your breasts." It felt as if he were already touching her. "The sensation of his body sliding in and out of yours, pleasing you while you beg him for more…"

Seren couldn't breathe as her entire body burned with a lustful ache she'd never before experienced. Her breasts were heavy, full. It was almost as if she could feel the very things that Morgen described.

"Imagine his lips on yours. His tongue flicking over your virgin's flesh while you're spread out naked and bare for his pleasure. His heavy, muscled body covering you completely…His breath mingling with yours as he whispers tender words for only you…"

Her body was on fire at the things Morgen described. Some alien part of her was crying out for Kerrigan. Hungry and needful, it scared her senseless.

"Beg for me, Seren." It wasn't Morgen's voice she heard in her ear. It was Kerrigan's. "Beg for me to take you."

"Morgen!" The fierce shout echoed through the silent crowd as Kerrigan ran his sword through Tostig's poor body, causing Seren to blink for the first time since Morgen had approached her.

Without feeling or compassion for the life he'd just taken, Kerrigan jerked his sword free of Tostig's chest and paid no heed to the man who fell dead at his feet as he turned to face them.

An instant later, he was before her, his sword and hand coated in bright red blood that matched the vibrancy of Morgen's dress.

Seren stared up at Kerrigan's merciless face as Morgen's images still played through her mind. She could already feel his weight against her body. Feel his touch on her breasts. Feel his cold kiss again.

He looked down at her, and something hot flickered in his black eyes.

She felt his desire for her with the same intensity as she felt her own. He didn't move, didn't speak as those eyes penetrated her. Pierced her. It was as if they were the only two people in this room.

Morgen laughed cruelly an instant before she literally ripped the pale blue dress from Seren and exposed her nude body to everyone there. Seren cringed at the sudden rush of cold air against her skin. Still, she was held by Morgen's spell that left her unable to move. Unable to run from the horror of this moment and escape it.

This was something from her nightmares!

Her face twisted with hatred, Morgen shoved her toward Kerrigan, who caught her against his hard chest. His unyielding armor bit into her flesh and chilled her completely. She wanted to scream at them all, but no sound would leave her throat.

"You would take this poor, haggard creature to your bed?" Morgen asked cruelly. "Are you truly so desperate for a woman, Kerrigan?"

Naked and bared to them all as they laughed at her, Seren was horrified and embarrassed to the deepest part of her soul. She wished she could wither and die right on the spot. But Kerrigan didn't laugh at her humiliation.

Instead he cursed Morgen before he wrapped himself around her. An instant later, they were gone from the hall, into a room she didn't know.

Suddenly her body was back under her own control as she collapsed against the man who held her carefully.

Seren screamed as the horror of it all consumed her.

"Shh, Seren," Kerrigan whispered in her ear as he kept her against his cold body. "All is fine. You are safe now."

"Nay," she choked as she shivered. "I have died and gone to hell. Surely, there is no other place this can be."

She shoved him away from her as her thoughts tumbled over one another in her mind. She struggled to make sense of them all, but her emotions were too raw and exposed as she relived her horror.

"You're covered in blood," she said as she noted the way it coated his black armor, reminding her of glaze over a blackened roast. "You ruthlessly killed that poor man, knowing he stood no chance against you. Still you fought him. Killed him for no real reason other than for Morgen's amusement." She shook her head as the image of Tostig's violent death replayed in her mind. "You're the devil."

His expression empty and blank, Kerrigan stepped back as a black fur cloak appeared over her naked body. Seren would have cast it off, but she didn't dare. It was all that saved her dignity, such as it was at the moment.

Kerrigan said nothing as he watched her with those emotionless eyes.

"You don't deny it?" she accused.

"Nay," he said quietly. "You are in hell and I am the devil who keeps you here. It is the way of it."

Her mind screamed out in denial. This couldn't be happening. "I want to go home."

He shook his head. "You should have gone with Gawain when you had the chance. 'Tis too late for you now. You chose of your own free will to come with me. With me you will stay until I no longer have need of you."

Seren swallowed the tears that she refused to cry. She'd been weak enough before them. The time for tears was past.

In that moment, she hated him and all the creatures who dwelled here. "I can't believe that my entire life will be ruined by one thoughtless mistake."

He gave an evil half laugh. "We are all damned by our deeds, my lady, whether they are thought out or not." His eyes turned back to their dull blackness. "You may rest peacefully here. No one will disturb you."

She looked around the cold, ebony room. Nothing here was inviting or welcoming. It reminded her of a witch's black pot. "Where is this place that I am safe?"

"My bedchamber."

As soon as those words were spoken, he dissolved into a cloud of smoke and vanished.

Seren looked around the dark, foreboding room. There was nothing warm here. No fire burned in the hearth. His bed was overlarge, and covered with black furs, but even so, it didn't appear comfortable. There were no chairs, no table. Nothing. It was large and empty.

Like their hearts.

Aye, they were all monsters. All of them.

"I have to escape," she whispered. But how? The only way she knew was what Magda had told her.

Did she dare trust one of them?

Did she dare not?

Closing her eyes, Seren tried to wish herself back to her loom. She tried to convince herself that it was all a nightmare, but with each pounding beat of her heart, she realized that it wasn't a dream. This was her life, and those below fully intended to kill her.

"I won't let you," she said aloud to the room. "Do you hear me? I am Seren of York, apprenticed to Master Rufus of London, and I will not be bested by the likes of you. I—"

Am just a peasant.

Those words ran around her head and taunted her. Mocked her.

Aye, she was a peasant, but she was also a survivor, and she wouldn't let them best her. Ever. This matter was far from over. She would find her way home no matter what it took.

Kerrigan didn't dare head back to the throne room. In the mood he was in, he might very well kill Morgen.

Or at least try.

At the end of the day, he knew he could no more kill her than she could kill him. They were at an impasse.

Both immortal. Both powerful.

Both hateful.

But Morgen did have one advantage. She knew the source of his immortality while he knew nothing of hers. He had no clue as to what gave her her powers.

She knew his weakness. And, to borrow an expression from centuries ahead, that pissed him off.

Kerrigan gripped his sword as he materialized on the roof of Camelot. He sat at the highest point so that he could look out into the darkness of this land where he ruled. When he'd first come here, he had been ecstatic with his newfound powers and with the pleasure and riches Morgen had given him. She had taken him to her bed and had played to every desire he'd ever had.

A callow youth, he'd grown to manhood here, under her callous tutelage.

Morgen had shown him marvels the likes of which he'd never dreamed of. Dragons and gargoyles for his command. Willing whores for his every amusement. Planes that flew over skies filled with buildings that made a mockery of mountains. Magic that could turn them into any beast they chose. And sex so raw and blinding that he'd once feared it would incinerate him.

In those days, he'd been an eager pawn for her.

But those days had long since passed. Somehow he'd grown tired of this realm.

Tired of Morgen and her childishness.

"Why do you wish to rule the world?"Seren's voice taunted him from the mist of his mind.

The true answer he'd withheld from her. "Because I am bored with this one."

There was nothing here except a dissatisfaction that grew daily. That was why Seren was such a fascination to him. She was new. Fresh.

In time she would grow as stale to him as this world. It was the way of things.

"Get the table and kill her," he breathed. There was no need in wasting his time with any other thought. Like everything else in life, Seren was a pawn to be used and then discarded.

Nothing more, nothing less.

And yet even as those words flitted through his mind, there was some part of him that argued it. Whatever it was that had chosen her as the mother of a Merlin, it also made her far too appealing to him.

Seren heard something scratching at the door. She sat up on the bed, clutching the fur cloak against her.

"Seren…"

She breathed in relief at the sound of Magda's voice. Scooting off the bed, she ran to the door, where she splayed her hand against the rough black wood. "Magda?"

"Aye, my lady. Are you all right?"

"Aye."

"Are you alone?"

She glanced over her shoulder to be sure. "I am. Lord Kerrigan left sometime ago."

"That is bad, my lady. Do you not remember what I told you about seducing him?"

"I remember."

"Good. Now listen closely…If you want power over the master, while he sleeps, you must take his sword from him and hide it."

Seren frowned. That seemed to be most dangerous for her to try. "What say you?"

"Take his sword from him, Seren. Take it and—"

"What are you doing here, Magda?"

Seren tensed as she heard Blaise's deep, silken voice from the other side of the door.

"I am checking on the lady."

"Begone, vermin!" Blaise snapped.

Seren struck the door with her hand. "Don't talk to her like that. She is a good soul."

"And you are a fool if you believe it."

Seren tried to open the door, but it didn't budge. "Where is Lord Kerrigan?" she asked him through the wood.

"Wherever it is he wishes to be."

She grimaced at his bland tone. "I want out of here. You can't keep me prisoner."

"There's nothing to be done about that, my lady. No one enters or leaves the king's bedchamber unless he takes them in or brings them out. Not even I can venture there without his permission."

"Are you his steward then?"

"Nay. I am his servant."

"How so?"

"Seren?"

She jerked around at the deep familiar voice to find Kerrigan standing behind her. There was an eerie dim light that seemed to have no source that cut across the angles of his handsome face. His black armor held a ghostly glow in the darkness that only seemed to heighten his size and aura of power. Against her will, her gaze dropped to his hip, where the black scabbard held the sword Magda had told her to steal.

Her heart pounded. "I despise the way you just appear without warning."

He glanced past her, to the door. "Your shift is over, Blaise. You may retire for the night."

"Thank you, my king."

She heard Blaise's footsteps fall away from the door.

Kerrigan spread his hand out and a fire roared to life from the dead coals in his hearth.

She blinked against the sudden brightness, and held her hand to shield her eyes.

"It is late, Seren. You should be asleep."

Her fur cloak turned into a thick, warm woolen kirtle that was lined with fine silk to protect her skin. She stared in amazement of the pale green color. It was beautiful.

"I will not molest you tonight, Seren. Sleep in peace."

She lowered her hand to find him staring at her with those penetrating, soulless black eyes. His black hair fell loosely around his wide shoulders and face, tousled as if he'd been in the wind. He held his hand out, and a great black throne magically appeared before the fire.

She shivered at the sight of it and the effortless way he'd conjured it into being. He was intense and omnipotent.

Even so, she refused to cower before him. "Have you any idea how upsetting it is to have no control over your life?"

He took a seat on the throne that was facing the fire, but he didn't look at her. "Have you ever had control of your life, Seren?"

"I…" she hesitated before she finally answered. "Yea. I did once."

A stool appeared so that he could rest his long, mail-clad legs upon it. He crossed them at the ankles as he stared at the fire. "And when was this?"

"Until you captured me."

He snorted at that. "You had no control. You told me yourself that you were forbidden to even leave that paltry town without permission from your master."

"It's not true. I am a freewoman. I had hope for my future. I had potential."

He scoffed at her words. "Potential. A sad word, that. Have you any idea what it really means?"

"Of course. It means that at any moment, things could improve."

He shook his head, but still didn't look at her. "It is a word used by those above you to make you tolerate your present lowly status by hoping for something that will never be. There is no such thing as potential. It is only a lie peddled to imbeciles."

She refused to believe his words. "You only think that because you had no potential," she whispered angrily. Then louder she said, "What happened to make you so cynical?"

She wasn't sure, but she thought he might actually be stifling a smile. "Life, my lady. Sooner or later, it destroys the potential in us all. As we strive like ants dancing to the command of our queen, it passes us by while we dream of a better place and time. Then one day all too soon, you awaken to find yourself old and shriveled, still working for others while you have nothing left but memories of work and suffering. Your potential gone, it leaves nothing in its wake. Nothing but hatred and bitterness to accompany you to your grave. You may take your potential if it comforts you. But I know the truth."

Seren had never heard anyone speak thusly, and in truth it made her heart ache for him that he had nothing to believe in. "And what comforts you, then?"

Kerrigan grew quiet at the question. At first she didn't think he would answer, until his deep voice filled the emptiness. "Nothing comforts me."

"Truly nothing?"

He didn't look at her or respond as he stared into the flames.

Even though he scared her, Seren forced herself to cross the short distance between them. She stood just behind his throne so that she could watch him. He sat there quietly as if he were made of stone while the fire crackled and danced. The air was thick with the scent of wood and pine.

For some reason she couldn't even begin to understand, she felt a peculiar urge to brush at his hair. Instead, she clenched her hand into a fist and rested it against the back of his throne.

"When I was a girl, my mother used to sing to me whenever I hurt. She would hold me close and promise me that one day I would have my own little girl to love. That I would find my place in the world and be happy. To this day, I think of my mother's voice and it warms me. Surely you had a mother."

He gave a bitter laugh. "My mother was a drunken whore who couldn't abide the sight of me unless it was to blame me for her wretched state in the world. I assure you, I found no comfort in her mewling insults."

Her heart ached for him. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to be hated by the woman who had birthed her. Instinctively, she reached out to touch him, only to have him grab her hand in a rough grip.

"What are you doing?" he asked angrily.

"I was offering you comfort, my lord." She grimaced as his grip tightened. "Please. You're hurting me."

His black eyes bored into her. "That is what I do, Seren. I hurt people. Never let yourself forget it." He let go of her instantly.

Seren rubbed her wrist where she could see a perfect outline of his handprint. "Have you ever tried being nice to anyone?"

He looked back at the fire. "Go to bed, Seren."

Before she could move or speak, she found herself lying in the bed. She tried to get up, but couldn't move. "I am not your slave, Lord Kerrigan. I am my own person."

The next thing she knew, he appeared above her out of the shadows. His armor gone, he wore a loose black tunic and hose, with his sword still firmly buckled at his hip. The firelight flashed against the star medallion as it fell free of his shirt to hang in the empty space between them.

He held himself above her as he stared down at her lips. He ran one cold finger down her cheek. "You are at my mercy, Lady Star. You are my slave."

She shivered even though a part of her found his weight strangely enticing. "I do not toil for you and I am not your property. I am freeborn and I shall remain that way."

One corner of his mouth curled up into a taunting expression. "And what of your apprenticeship?"

It angered her that he threw that in her face. "I will pay Master Rufus back…eventually."

He cocked his head as he studied her. He moved his hand from her face to the satin laces that fell from the neck of her kirtle. He took one in his hand and rubbed it between his fingers. "Why are you so defiant of me?"

"Should I not be?"

Kerrigan was completely dumbfounded by her. No one had ever stood so strong against him. Not even Morgen. She knew when she was bested and she withdrew.

Yet here was this…servant girl. She had no magic powers. No alliances. She had nothing to barter with. Nothing. And yet she stood strong before him even though he scared her.

It was inconceivable to him.

His gaze dipped to her small breasts that all but disappeared while she lay on her back. There was nothing about her really attractive. Nothing except those vivid green eyes that seared him with her spirit.

There was a warmth inside her that reached out to him even more than the fire in his hearth. In his mind, he could imagine her naked beneath him. Imagine her sighs of pleasure as he took her until the boiling need in his blood was fully sated.

Those green eyes of hers taunted and defied him even now.

"Kiss me, Seren."

Still she didn't flinch or flee. "Is that a master's order to his slave?"

One corner of his mouth quirked up into the first real smile he'd known in centuries. She was daring him. If he said aye, she would deny him. It was on the tip of his tongue to say so just to see her fire, and yet another part of him didn't want to fight with her.

It only wanted to taste her again.

"Nay, lady. It is a simple request from a man to a woman."

"But you told me that you're not a man."

He shook his head at her continued argument. "Kiss me, Seren… please."

Seren held her breath at that one word she was sure this man never spoke. The reason inside her said to push him away, and yet she didn't dare to truly anger him. He could have his way with her, and she was lucky that so far he found her amusing and not annoying.

What harm could come in just placating his one request?

Her heart racing, she lifted her head up ever so slightly to place her lips to his.

Kerrigan fisted his hand in the furs of his bed as her hesitant tongue swept against his. Cradling her head in his left hand, he laid his body down so that he could feel every inch of her body pressed against his.

Aye, this was what he wanted. A warm woman to hold. A virgin mouth that had been tasted only by his. A guileless woman who spoke her mind without malice, slander, or fear.

Most of all, a tender touch that didn't demand or hurt.

All it did was soothe.

Closing his eyes, he savored the rich scent of rose and woman as she sank her soft hand into his hair. She didn't pull at his hair, didn't nip painfully at his lips. She stroked him with a gentle, caring touch.

He'd never before known the like. The newness of it haunted him. Touched him.

Seren groaned at the wicked feel of Kerrigan kissing her. The swell of his groin pressed demandingly against her hip as he deepened his kiss. It was hungry and devouring, and it stole the very breath from her.

His tunic melted from his body as he moved from her mouth to bury his lips against her throat where his dark whiskers tickled her skin. The coldness of his naked flesh sent chills over her even as desire heated her body. It was such a strange sensation—hot and cold clashing inside and out of her.

He tasted so good and felt even better. She'd never had a man hold her like this. If she didn't know better, she might even think that he had feelings for her. But that was foolish. He knew nothing of her and she knew nothing of him. They were strangers and he held no feelings for anyone. He'd told her that.

Even so, Seren trembled as she ran her hands over his naked back.

At least until she felt the deep ridges on his flesh. Shocked by them, she opened her eyes to see the deep scars that bisected his back.

"Who beat you?" The words were out before she could stop them.

His eyes turning red, Kerrigan pulled back with a hiss as his black tunic reappeared to cover those scars. "Sleep, Seren."

"But—"

"Sleep or be raped," he growled in rage. "Decide!" The shout rang against the stone walls.

That was a choice? Swallowing at his untoward anger, she immediately rolled over to give him her back.

Kerrigan fought for control as he again faced the fire that did nothing to warm the coldness inside him.

Take her!

To what purpose?

Aye, he could rape her. Or use a spell to make her welcome him even. But in the end, it would be nothing more than a passing amusement that could be found with any wench in Morgen's court.

In the morning he would awaken with her blood on his sheets and body, and his loins would ache anew. He would still be restless.

Nothing would change.

Nay, that wasn't true. Seren would be changed. She would be violated, and the fire that burned so bright in her green eyes would be extinguished.

Finally, she would be defeated.

He didn't know why the thought of her being broken disturbed him so, but it did. More than anyone, he understood the pain of betrayal. The lasting sting of humiliation as others abused him while he could do nothing to stop them. There was nothing worse in this world or beyond it, and for the first time since Morgen had found him, he didn't want to lash out in anger.

He wanted…

Kerrigan paused as he realized he didn't even have a name for what he wanted.

Returning to his throne, he looked to where Seren lay in his bed. She was ramrod stiff.

"Relax, Seren," he whispered softly.

She stiffened even more.

A slow smile curved his lips in humor as he whispered a spell for her. Even so, she fought it until he forced her to sleep.

Kerrigan shook his head at her as she finally relaxed and succumbed to his spell. He was beginning to see how it was that his little mouse would birth a Merlin. No doubt she would be the kind of mother she'd described to him. One who held her child to her bosom with love and not resentment.

The babe's father wouldn't be some nameless man who had paid for her body and left his seed inside her to take root and grow into a despised abomination. Most likely the father would be someone she cared for.

Someone she gave her most prized possession to.

Untoward rage gripped him.

The thought of one of the knights of Avalon inside her was enough to make his blood boil. They were mewling half-witted bastards who didn't deserve something like her.

She was…

She's a pawn.

Pawns didn't matter in the game. Only winning did.

Kerrigan let out a disgusted breath. What was wrong with him?

I'm too idle.

Aye, it wasn't in his nature to sit and do nothing. But he didn't dare leave her unattended. There was no telling what Morgen might do should he leave Seren alone. Growling, he rose from the throne to open the door he conjured to the side of his hearth.

He pulled up short as he found Blaise in his council room. In small dragon form, the beast was curled up on his desk, draped around the very orb he'd come seeking.

"What are you doing?"

The mandrake opened one violet eye to peer at him. "Sleeping."

"I told you you were excused."

Blaise closed his eye as if unconcerned by Kerrigan's wrath. "And I angered Morgen tonight. I thought it best I sleep elsewhere until she becomes distracted by someone else."

The mandrake had a point.

"I want my ball, dragon."

Yawning widely, the mandrake slid from the crystal to the desk, then crawled to one side where he again coiled up to sleep. Kerrigan ignored the mandrake as he circled his hand over the crystal and concentrated on the Lords of Avalon.

A deep, red mist cleared to show him several of them in a boat, leaving the shores of their land, no doubt to find Seren and bring her home.

He curled his lip at the sight of them. For all he knew, one of them could very well be the future father of Seren's child.

The thought singed him. Thumping the ball, he sent a wave crashing against them. Their boat overturned and sent the men scrambling. They shouted as their heavy, mail-clad bodies sank quickly to the bottom of the sea.

"Now that was real mature," Blaise said.

Kerrigan turned to find the mandrake watching him. "Did I ask for your opinion?"

"Nay, but I felt the need to give it." Blaise stretched and yawned before he turned over to expose his scaly belly so that he could sleep on his back. "At least you were kinder this time."

"How so?"

"They'll all live. What has possessed you to such mercy?"

Kerrigan shrugged. "Dead, they pose no challenge to me. Besides, I can't kill them while they're in Avalon and they know it. I can only make them miserable there."

Blaise snorted a small wisp of fire.

Silence fell between them while Kerrigan opened and closed several books around him. He paused as he uncovered a portable DVD player that he'd brought back from the twenty-first century. A slight smile curved his lips as he considered Seren's reaction to something that future mankind would find trivial.

In truth, he found the future world even colder than this one. True, there were marvels to be had. But not even they could compare with the magic he commanded. In the end, even that had left him morose.

"How old are you, Blaise?"

The mandrake gave him a curious stare. Kerrigan didn't blame him. Blaise had been in service to him for more than three hundred years, and in all that time, he'd never asked anything personal about him.

"I was born three years after Arthur."

"Over six hundred years then?"

"Give or take. I long stopped counting such events, as they are meaningless to the likes of us."

It was true. Kerrigan could barely recall his own age. There had been a time when living forever had seemed like a good idea. But as the centuries passed and he found nothing new to explore, it had all become just another day.

"Why am I so damned bored?"

He didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until Blaise answered him. "Simple. If you toss a stone at Magda, what does she do?"

"Nothing. She rubs the spot, curses, looks to see that it's me, and then goes on about her work."

"Does that ever change?"

"Nay."

Blaise rolled to his side. "And if you insult Morgen?"

"She insults me back."

"And if I were to open the window, what would be outside?"

"Gray clouds or black ones." Kerrigan felt a flash of irritation. "Where are you going with this?"

"Simple. Your problem is that nothing here ever changes. You don't do anything different anymore. You just sit around this castle moping. It's truly boring, my king. Face it, you're in a rut."

Kerrigan shot a blast of fire at him, but he deftly dodged it…as he always did.

Blaise made no comment.

Kerrigan sighed. "I used to enjoy being evil. It wears thin, doesn't it?"

"Not really. Better than being good. At least here the people are far more entertaining. You never know when one of them is going to run at your back, trying to kill you…well, for me that's true. They're too damned scared of you to try it. Maybe that's part of your problem, my king. You've made them too scared of you. But either way, good guys never fight dirty. You always know what to expect from them."

There was truth to that. Even now, he wondered what mischief Morgen planned for both him and Seren. For there was no way that she didn't have something in the works. Her mind was ever plotting new evils.

But whatever she had planned, it would turn out the same. He would attack and she would back down.

Kerrigan cocked his head as he heard a whisper of movement from his bedchamber.

Could it be Seren moving about? Nay, not likely. The spell he'd given her should have her asleep for hours.

Again he heard the faint noise.

He opened the door to his bedchamber with his thoughts, then flashed into the room.

Seren turned from the window with a gasp to face him.

Kerrigan had barely opened his mouth to castigate her when the shutters behind her shattered.

Before he could react, a talon came through, coiled around her, and snatched her from his room.