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We could not outlast it. My father was an unrelenting force that defied conquest or containment.
The shield, powerful as it was, could not endure indefinitely.
There was only one thing left to do.
I opened myself and embraced the wind.
The clash of energies was palpable. The shield’s hunger was voracious.
I let it feed. Absorbing everything the wind had to give.
Godlike power flowed through me, carrying the weight of eons and the wrath of a deity scorned.
The fabric of the shield resonated with the clash. I felt my father’s presence looming like a maelstrom bearing down.
Yet there was nothing he could do. I simply drew and drew, harnessing and encompassing rather than resisting.
I felt his fury as he faltered. And then withdraw.
The wind abated. A profound stillness settled over the battlefield.
We had won.
I looked down at my side and, with shock, saw Excalibur still glowing. The sword had been in my hand the entire time.
Not a trinity. A quartet.
“Ferrum deae,” Draven murmured.
My head jerked up. “What did you say?”
“The sword. Another name for Excalibur. It means ‘iron of the goddess,’” Draven said, meeting my eyes. There was something very solemn in his expression that made me uncomfortable.
“You’re not fae, Morgan. Not after what you’ve done here today. You’re a goddess.” He gave a low chuckle, and I flinched.
“Don’t say that,” I replied uneasily. “What a ridiculous thing to say.”
But it was too late.
The Three-cursed man was already kneeling in the dirt at my feet, his hands tracing the curves of my hips.
“You’re my goddess, and I’m your knight,” he said as he brought his face up to kiss my stomach and laughed again.
CHAPTER 13 - MORGAN
I knew he had been joking.
As we sat in King Mark’s palace in his crowded council room at a long rectangular table, I told myself Draven had simply been joking.
I was fae. That was bad enough. I was no goddess.
Even though in the back of my mind, part of me knew what my father had just done out there had gone beyond the powers of any fae king.
The room around me was filled with the noise of advisors and nobles from Brightwind and other regions of Tintagel, all struggling to be heard over one another.
The battle may have been over, but this was a council of war.
I tried to focus on what was being said. Plans to invade Rheged. When and how to do so.
