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She didn’t know how long it went on—time lost all meaning as he ravaged her. As he made sure that nobody would ever be able to hold a candle to him in the future.
When her body couldn’t take it anymore and sent her into another frenetic crash of ecstasy, he was also pushed over the edge. He roared, slamming his body into hers, surging deep inside her. The heat of it sent her into another wave of bliss. Her head swam, and she swore she was going to black out.
After a moment, his weight shifted, letting her fill her aching lungs. Between ragged breaths, he murmured to her, “Apology…accepted.”
“Fuck you,” she muttered back, her eyes shut as she struggled to gather her wits.
He kissed her then. The tenderness in it shattered what was left of her already broken heart. It was a kiss filled with an emotion that she refused to believe was real, given the situation.
As quickly as it came, it was gone. He parted from her and sat back on his heels. His expression was once more as cold as the iron he embodied. “This changes nothing.”
She knew what that meant. It meant she was still going home. She tried not to let the tears come back. She didn’t regret what they’d just done—not in the slightest—and she hadn’t gone into it thinking it’d change his mind. But it still hurt. “I don’t mean anything to you, do I?”
“Yes. You are a traitor to me, and nothing more.”
Meeting his cruel gaze, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin in defiance. “Someday, I hope you realize that all the betrayals in your life have one thing in common—you.”
The harshness in his tone was the worst part about it all. “Get dressed. Sleep. You leave at dawn.”
Yeah. Yeah, that hurt a lot.
Letting out a wavering breath, she did as she was told without a fuss. It wasn’t until Mordred put her back into her room and shut the door behind her without a word—or even a kiss—that she finally let herself cry.
And she vowed it was the last time she’d cry because of him.
If this is what he wants?
Fine.
TWO
Mordred destroyed two pieces of furniture when he returned to his room, smashing one wooden chair and one end table against the wall. Once he had vented his anger, he let out a long, shuddering sigh. He, too, was on the verge of tears once more.
Because while Gwendolyn was so very wrong about what she meant to him, she was also so very right. And her words had cut deep.
Picking up some of the bits of wooden shards from the ground, he tossed the shattered furniture into the fireplace one piece at a time, watching the remains burn.
And could not help but picture himself atop a pyre.
Grinn was no easy foe. How could she not understand that Mordred had barely defeated him the first time in battle, and that she would likely be a casualty in the terrible war?
And that if she died, he would follow her to the grave?
It was inevitable that Mordred would be the ultimate cause behind her demise. It would just be a matter of time. Putting his head in his hands, he let the tears roll down his cheeks. He loved her. And to honor that love, he had to send her away.
She would go to her grave thinking that he despised her. That she was no different to him than one of his dogs.
Once more, Mordred seemed doomed to play the villain. To Gwendolyn, to Galahad, to Avalon, to everyone he cared about. It was his lot in life—forever to be despised for his actions. To be reviled for doing only what he could to protect them all.
A life with him would be short and painful for her. Grinn would not hesitate to kill her in front of his eyes, simply to cause Mordred pain. It would not be a quick death. Long ago, the demon had lost his mate and his love to the wrath of the elementals. Mordred knew that Grinn would not hesitate to cut pieces off Gwendolyn one by one and send them to him as trophies. As reminders of what had been done to his own love.
And yet, Mordred would be despised for sending Gwendolyn away by all those who had come to care for her as well—the unfinished guard, Maewenn, Galahad—who knows who else. They would label him as heartless, callous, and cruel.
Always the villain.
Always.
So be it. If that is what they wish me to be?
