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He lifted a claw and beckoned her closer. She hesitated, but with one firm glare from him, she let out a wavering breath and approached.
He moved to stand behind her, his presence there making her shiver harder. When his fingers trailed through her hair, it forced the air out of her lungs.
“Where is he?” he asked again.
She shut her eyes. “I don’t—”
The hand in her hair tightened into a fist, stinging her scalp. She cried out as he pulled her back against him, craning her head in his grasp. He stepped forward, pinning her to the edge of the table with the length of his armored thigh. “I do not believe you, Gwendolyn Wright. Where did he go?”
“Somewhere nearby—I think—”
“Why?” His voice was a baritone rumble. It was full of danger andpower, and it sent something that felt like cold lightning crashing through her.
She felt helpless. Usually, she hated it.
Right now?
Right now, she was extremely conflicted.
His hand tightened harder, mistaking the reason why she was hesitating again. “Why, Gwendolyn?”
Give him something. Anything. Anything that doesn’t get you killed.“Lancelot is raising an army of elementals to storm the keep. Grinn wants to join him to take you down.” She wouldn’t tell him about Caliburn or her link to Grinn.
“And Zoe is aiding him,” Mordred said. It was a statement, not a question. He sighed. Without stepping away from where he was pinning her to the table, he let go of her hair. “Show me the path you took. Show me precisely where you went.”
“Why? I—”
“Do it.”
She flinched and swallowed; her mouth going dry again. “What happens if I don’t? Will you torture me?”
“Do not test me, Gwendolyn.” His hand settled on her back, his thumb on one side of her throat and his fingers on the other, the points pressing into her skin just firmly enough to remind her how deadly they were. “The ice you stand upon is thin enough as it is.”
She supposed that was more than fair. With a trembling hand, she picked up a few of the iron markers from the surface of the table and placed them along the path they had taken to the mountain and then to Aercester where she had killed a man.
She had to lean forward to do it, resting one palm on the table as she did. The chain that connected her cuffs together rattled as it slid across the surface. The hand on the back of her neck slid between her shoulder blades, the metal of his nails scraping against the chainmail fabric of her shirt.
“Why did you seek the wizard?”
“We needed his help.” Her head was reeling. This shouldn’t bedoingthings to her. She should be terrified. And she was, which was only making her strange physical need all the more confusing and complicated. God help her, she wanted him. Not in spite of his darkness and his power—butbecauseof it.
“And did he provide it?” His hand on her back trailed lower.
“N—no.” She stammered like an idiot.
“Why?”
“He couldn’t.”
Slowly, agonizingly, his hands grasped the bottom hem of the chainmail tank top and pulled it off over her head. She lifted her arms to accommodate the action, the cold air and the brush of those gauntlets sending a wave of goosebumps across her skin.
“Tell me what you sought from the wizard.” Mordred leaned over her, his lips pressing to her shoulder, hot and slow. The sensuality of his touch was in such sharp contrast to his words, it was making her head spin.
“I can’t…” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “I’m so sorry…”
“Why not?” He began to feather kisses along her shoulder, up her neck, and closer to her ear. “Tell me why you aid my enemy, Gwendolyn Wright.”
“Because if I tell you, you’ll kill me.” She shut her eyes. Knowing that he might kill her on that alone. “And I don’t want to die.”
