Her hands fisted in the collar of his tunic, yanking him closer. “You think Iwantto stand alone?” She hissed. “You think I don’t want you to stand beside me?”
His breath stuttered against her lips, stunned by the heat behind her words. “I wantyou,Lancelot. Not your sacrifice. Not your blood spilled on that sand while Arthur watches from his throne.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just breathed her in like she was the only thing keeping him tethered.
She shoved him weakly, palms flattened against his chest. “I have fought so hard, for so long, to stay standing.” Her voice cracked as she stood. “Don’t make me watchyoufall so I can continue to stand alone.”
He caught her wrists, but it wasn’t to stop her — it was to hold on to her like a lifeline. Likeshewas the only thing that could keephimfrom breaking. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“I would rather be disgraced,” she whispered. “Mocked. Uncrowned.Killed. I would ratherlose everythingthan step over your body as I take my seat at the throne.”
Lancelot’s grip on her wrists tightened — not cruel, but trembling with restraint. His breath came shallow. And then, low and vicious, “Don’t you dare ask me to live while he parades you like a prize no one claimed.”
Her breath caught. His eyes blazed — wild, beautiful,ruined.
“You think I care about honor? About legacy?I have none.” His voice rose, teeth bared like a knight gone feral. “Ihadone thing left.You.”
She flinched, not from fear, but from the sheer weight of his fury. Of what it cost him to carry it.
“I should’ve burned this kingdom to ash the day he touched you,” he seethed, forehead pressed to hers. “Ishould have.And now you want me to stand aside and watch him tear you downagain?”
Her silence was answer enough.
His breath trembled, brushing against her lips. “Don’t make me choose between your safety and my pride,” he whispered. “Because Iswear to God, Guinevere — I’ll chooseyou.Every time.”
She shoved at his chest, enough to saystop.
Enough to sayyou’re not the only one burning.
“Don’t youdare,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare speak like you get to decide which of us is sacrificed!”
His head snapped back, jaw clenched, eyes wide.
“I have lost everything, Lancelot. I have been used, paraded,touchedby a man I would burn out of my skin if I could. And the only thing, theonlything, that kept me from falling to pieces wasknowingyou were alive.”
Tears stung her eyes again, but they didn’t fall. Not this time.
“You want to protect me?Then live.You want to fight for me?Then stay with me.” Her hands fisted in his tunic, dragging him closer like she could tether him there with will alone. “You don’t get to leave me again and call it love.”
His mouth parted like he might speak, but no words came.
“You promised me,” she said, barely above a whisper now, but it was a blade to the gut. “Youjustswore he’d never use you to break me. So don’t youdarehand him the blade.”
His breath punched out of him like she’d driven a dagger into his chest. “Guinevere-”
“No,” she snapped, cutting him off, dragging his mouth down to hers. She devoured him, and he let her. Let her pour every scream she’d swallowed, every bruise she’d withstood, into the crush of her mouth. His hands found her hips, dragged her against him like he’d die if there was an inch between them. Her fingers tore at his hair, his clothes, anything she could reach as if she meant to undo him at the seams.
He lifted her blindly, stumbling until her back met the mattresswith a thud that rattled the bones in them both. She gasped, but she didn’t stop. Clawed at the hem of his tunic, tugged it up and over, baring the broad line of his chest so she could drag her nails down it.
“You don’t get to go,” she snarled against his lips. “You don’t get to leave me.”
“I won’t,” he growled. “Don’t ask me to.”
She tore at his belt, fingers clumsy with urgency. “Help me,” she growled, a snarl more than a plea.
“No,” He barked, catching her wrists mid-frantic motion. His grip was iron. His eyes darker than fury. “Youdon’t get to tear me apart and expect me to take it. Is this what you want?” He shoved her wrists above her head, pinning them to the bed. “Thenlistento me.”
Her breath caught. Her pupils blew wide. But she didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Her hips arched, a silentyes.
