Kathryne Kennedy - Everlasting Enchantment

Millicent nodded, the buzzing noise rising in volume.

“Bees.” Gareth grinned. “It’s a swarm of bees… that’s what your Master has conjured to fight the dragon.”

Harcourt’s face sagged in disappointment. “Insects?”

“Do you think another dragon would defeat Ghoulston without hurting the queen in the process? Your Master is clever.”

One of the insects flew past Millicent. It might have appeared tiny in comparison to the dragon, but to her, the bee looked about the size of her fist.

The bees swarmed the dragon’s head. The beast snorted, frying some of the insects, which dropped to the ground like a flurry of black snow. But most of them remained, beyond the dragon’s maw, covering those red eyes. The dragon loosened his hold on the neck of the unicorn-lion and clawed at his eyes.

Millicent turned and gave Bran a meaningful look. The big man stared at her with his liquid brown eyes, then slowly swung his head from side to side. He understood.

She could not leave until she knew the queen was safe. But neither could she tarry long after. Millicent had no doubt Harcourt would give the relic to the Master and doom Gareth to a life of imprisonment. She did not think the were-lion would allow her to walk away, either.

Bran’s men could hold their own against the Master’s spies. But not against a Royal’s magic.

The queen’s creature reared away from the dragon, who was now covered in the dark swirling mass of insects. The bees burrowed into places a blade of steel couldn’t reach, but the majority of them still attacked the dragon’s most sensitive areas… especially the eyes.

The dragon howled and clawed… and began to shrink, to turn back into the odious personage of the Duke of Ghoulston.

“Make it stop,” he screamed. “Have mercy—I am blind!”

The dark, swirling, buzzing mass coalesced into the portly form of the Duke of Sussex, who had just proven to Millicent to be shrewd enough to have actually earned the position of the Master of the Hall of Mages. “Oh, do stop whining,” he said to Ghoulston before turning to look up at the unicorn-lion. “A combination of your royal coat of arms? Well done, Victoria—but kindly change back now. We have much to discuss.”

When Queen Victoria changed back to her normal, diminutive stature, the baronets let out a cheer, followed by another resounding cheer from the underground shifters. She acknowledged their adulation with a wave of her hand, then lifted her skirts and delicately stepped over to her uncle and the duke—who still writhed on the ground in agony.

Millicent felt her lips curl in a grim smile.

It was less than Ghoulston deserved… but her Nell had been avenged.

And yet… she did not feel quite as triumphant as she thought she would.

Millicent turned and glanced up at Gareth, allowing herself to truly look at him. Blood spattered the front of his tunic, obscuring the red dragon embroidered in the thick weave. He’d fought wildly as usual, with little care for his own skin. Moisture curled the hair at his temple and brow into tiny spirals of gold. A cut along one sculpted cheekbone gleamed an angry scarlet, and dirt smudged his broad forehead and angular chin.

He looked… sublimely delicious… heartrendingly beautiful. He had always been an attractive man, but now… now she saw more than his handsome features. She knew his heart and soul, and loved him more than life itself.

Millicent nodded at Bran. He rose a bushy brow, but stepped over to Gareth’s side, and wrapped his arms around the taller man, trapping the knight’s arms in a bear hug, so he could not get to his sword. She shifted to panther and leaped on Harcourt’s back. He went down like a felled tree, flat to the ground, with an oath of surprise. It took a moment for the baronets to react. They were tired and injured. But within that moment, Bran had already signaled to his own men, who now outnumbered the spies, and they guarded the combatants.

Harcourt had no one to come to his defense, but she rather imagined he didn’t mind.

He shifted to lion, threw her off his back. Millicent landed, crouched to attack. They circled each other, looking for an opening. The were-lion’s eyes glittered gold, oddly delighted as he studied his opponent.

But Millicent had an advantage. Gareth had helped her master her beast. She did not think Harcourt had managed the same feat, for she saw little trace of his humanity at the moment.

They clashed, snarled, striking with fang and claw.

Parted. Both a bit bloody.

But Millicent had come away with a clear knowledge of how Harcourt’s beast fought. He did not protect his left side.

When they clashed again, she concentrated on that weakness. She did not want to kill Harcourt, but she knew she had little time before the Master finished scolding his niece and turned his attention to his baronets.

They rolled across the dirt. When they came to a stop, Millicent was on top of Harcourt once again, but this time with his face and belly toward her, his neck in her teeth.

He growled.

She bit down, feeling his hot blood cover her lips, drip down her furry chin.

Please don’t make me kill you.

Harcourt tried to throw her off once more. Millicent kept him firmly pinned to the ground. She shook her head, worried at the skin.

She saw Gareth’s pointed-toe boots. She should have known Bran would not be able to hold him for long. “Don’t do this,” he said. “There has been enough bloodshed tonight.”

The rest of the men watched quietly.

Gareth sighed. “Verily, my lady. If you will not wear the bracelet, it does not matter. If I cannot have you, I do not want anyone at all.”

Millicent slowly closed her jaws.

Harcourt’s eyes rolled back into his head and he shifted to human.

She almost sobbed with relief. She released his neck and pulled the bracelet off Harcourt’s arm, slipping it onto her own wrist. She rose to her feet, waiting for it to tighten, to claim her once more as Gareth’s lover. She stared at the band of silver, the colors within the moonstone swirling and winking.

“What’s this?” demanded Lord Sussex, breaking through the circle of men who surrounded them, Queen Victoria hard on his heels.

Millicent lifted her chin, winced at the memory of steel bars surrounding her, but faced the Master of the Hall of Mages with every intention of defying him. “I go wherever Sir Gareth goes.”

Lord Sussex raised his white brows, which climbed even higher when his niece ran to Gareth and threw herself in the knight’s arms.

“Your powers astound me, lad,” he said to Gareth.

Millicent frowned. “The queen is just under another spell. We used Sir Gareth’s blood to bind her to him… it seemed… easier, than trying to explain about Ghoulston.”

“And what’s your excuse?”

“I… I have none. Other than I owe Sir Gareth my life.”

“I see.” Lord Sussex bent down, patted Harcourt’s cheek. The were-lion’s eyes flew open and he clutched his neck, tried to speak. “Hush, lad. You’ll be fine… unlike many of my other baronets. I lost too many today, and Ghoulston will pay for that.” He glanced up at Millicent. “If not for your aid, and that of your underground friends, I would not even be talking about this, my dear. But as I understand it… isn’t the relic supposed to choose who wears it?”

Millicent glanced back down at the bracelet. She squeezed the band of silver, but it continued to dangle loosely on her arm. She stifled a cry of dismay. She had willingly given the relic to another. Could the blasted thing have somehow sensed it?

It would never claim her as Gareth’s lover again.

No. She would not believe it… and it did not matter! Damn the stupid hunk of metal! Millicent would never forsake him again. She clamped her teeth and shoved the bracelet higher up her arm until it stayed there.

Gareth stared at the relic, his forehead creased in bewilderment. Queen Victoria continued to hug his arm and gaze adoringly up at him.

“Obviously the relic no longer chooses you, Lady Millicent,” said the Master. “So you might as well give it to me.”

“Never.”

Bran shifted to bear, let loose a growl that reverberated louder than the black dragon’s. Harcourt responded, shifting to lion, the fur around his neck bloody, but facing off against the bear with a snarl that revealed his wicked long teeth.

“My spells cannot harm them,” continued the Master, nodding at the men shifting to beasts all around them, “but I can open a chasm in the earth to swallow them all. Is that what you truly want?”

Millicent glared at the old man. “I cannot let you keep the relic.”

“Enough.” Gareth stepped forward. “Stop it, all of you!”

Lions, tigers, jackals, hyenas… they all turned to stare at the knight, their growls fading.

Gareth nodded, then turned toward Millicent. “I said no more bloodshed. And I meant it.”

“I will not give him the relic!”

“Then give it to me.”

She blinked. He could not mean it. But Gareth held out his hand, his glorious blue eyes fixed on her, and she saw the sadness within them, the sorrow that spoke of centuries of living, of seeing too many deaths, too much wickedness. She could not add to his grief.

Millicent squeezed the band of silver one more time. It would not tighten. She could not force it to choose her. She slipped it off her arm, held it within her fingers.

She would be handing him her broken heart. Surely he knew that?

Gareth nodded, his long blond hair swaying in the light breeze.

Millicent placed the relic in the palm of his large hand.

Her breath caught on a sob. Ah, no. She could not cry. But neither could she breathe.

Gareth turned to Bran. “Take her home.”

Bran shifted to human. She felt his arms circle her, his gentle tug. “Come away, Millicent. Come away.”

She threw Gareth a last silent look of appeal. But he just stared at the relic, his face creased with misery and confusion.

Millicent shifted to panther, and followed Bran into the shadows of the night, back to the dark recesses of the Underground. Where she belonged.

Gareth watched Millicent until her black fur blended with the night, until all the Undergrounders disappeared from sight. He did not understand. He knew he loved Millicent with all of his heart. So why had the relic not chosen her again? Why had it tightened before, and not now? Perhaps… perhaps Millicent had been right all along, and he had been a fool to believe in her love… especially after she had betrayed him.

But the proof shook him to the core.

Queen Victoria plucked the bracelet from his hand. “Surely it will work for me.” She slipped it over her wrist, frowned when it did not tighten, then shoved it up her arm. “Well, I shall just keep it until it does.”

Lord Sussex scowled. “When will your… potion wear off the queen, Sir Gareth?”

“I’m not sure. A few hours, perhaps a few days.”

“I suppose there’s no harm in letting her keep the relic until then.” The Master turned to his baronets. “Now, then, gentlemen. Let’s get the wounded back to the Hall. Victoria, will you reassemble your carriage? We can carry most of them—ah, the message sprite.”

Lady Yardley strode toward them, her eyes round with wonder at the carnage about her, Ambrose flying near her shoulder.

The Master rattled off a list of demands to Ambrose, sending the sprite back to London for more wagons for the injured. Lady Yardley approached Gareth while the rest of the baronets scurried to do their master’s bidding.

“What happened?” she asked. “Where is Millicent?”

Gareth sagged to the ground at the sound of her name. Sorrow had dogged him for so long he thought he had become used to it. But this… this soul-tearing agony threatened to overwhelm him.

“Oh, you are injured,” cried Queen Victoria. “Uncle, we must get him into my carriage.”

And Gareth suddenly realized his pain wasn’t all mental, that most of the blood covering his tunic might be his own. His vision began to fade to black. Well, the relic would soon suck him back in and he would reappear healed and whole like always, the pain just another memory.

But the pain in his heart would still be there, and that hurt far worse.

Gareth had only a jumble of impressions after that. He felt someone lift him, felt the bouncing of the carriage as they traveled back to London. Heard snatches of an argument between the queen and her uncle about where Gareth should be taken.