The Du Lac Legacy (Sons of Camelot Book 2) Read online

  “Alright, tell me what to do,” I said.

  “Close your eyes,” he said, taking my hands in his and arranging Severus’ body in a more comfortable position.

  I closed my eyes and felt Severus’ lips touch mine. A strange tingle spread from them and my hands, rushing through my body to join in a sparkling torrent of power near my heart. From there it reached out and I once more saw the textured green energy of my bonding with Galahad, only it now looked weak and the texture too rough. More like old, dying wood.

  The tingling rush of energy I rode though appeared like a coating of silver sparkles and the effects behind the head of the trail renewed the green of the bonding I shared with Galahad. Something that made me sad. He would never be free of me and I didn’t think that would make him happy in the long run.

  I had no time to consider stopping Torvec’s rush to meet Galahad’s spirit though because we hit darkness and it shuddered around me. “Be strong for him,” Torvec’s voice whispered through my awareness.

  “Holt?” Galahad whispered.

  “Oh, my love,” I whispered in return, pity and fear for him overwhelming me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  All the acrimony between us dissolved when I saw the state of my bonded companion. He knelt in a room, no more than six foot by four foot. If he could lie down he couldn’t do it and remain straight. He knelt in the centre, his hands cuffed behind his back with iron bands and the bands then attached on a short chain to the floor near the wall. He couldn’t stand. He couldn’t even straighten his back properly.

  I found myself standing next to him, my own shade manifesting vaguely. His hair, shorn from his head with brutal efficiency, lay about his body in long strands. Bruises covered his ribs and back, as did the mark of a lash. A broad heavy implement must have caused the thick deep welts.

  I sank to my knees beside him and reached out without considering my illusionary state. He shuddered at the touch and turned his head, the scars toward me. His lips were dry and cracked, his eyes hollow pits into hell. All the power and grace of his form now lay broken. No dark god knelt before me, just a broken and wounded man.

  “Holt,” he whispered, his lips hardly moving.

  “My beloved companion,” I said in return. I touched the shorn head. I couldn’t feel anything except a sparkle of energy, but Galahad shifted, closing his swollen eyes.

  “How are you here?” he asked.

  “It’s a long story but I can help,” I said.

  “Nothing can help me, she is angry. I must live through the anger,” he said. His words were tired, empty and slow. “It seems Torvec used to save me from this pain.”

  “He is here to help, love,” I said, trying hard not to cry.

  “Don’t call me that, Holt. I am not your love. I cannot be. I am weak and I have betrayed your love endlessly. Find a champion for Morgan. I will die here. Make Morgan queen of Albion.” The long speech cost him a great deal. His broken ribs made it so hard for him to breathe. Blood stained his lips. He was dying.

  “If you die so do I,” I said.

  “No. She is working on unravelling our bonding. You will soon be free,” he said.

  I drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t want that,” I said, my voice changing with the tension of my emotions.

  He looked up into my face, twisting painfully. “I have lost everything, Holt. I am not worthy of you. At some point I will betray you, deny our love, become her creature once more. I cannot survive this for long. I am not my father. I do not have his strength.” A tear tracked down his cheek.

  I closed my eyes and tried to push through my pity to find the words to help him. I pressed both hands to his body, one on his head and one on his back. “I love you, Galahad du Lac.” A wash of power, not mine, engulfed me and drained into Galahad.

  His breath sharpened and his eyes widened. “How?” he asked, an emotion colouring his voice at last.

  “Torvec,” I managed to say.

  The energy of the White Dragon washed into me, through me and into Galahad, drawing back the layers of pain my young love felt. The power slowly diminished and Galahad’s face became peaceful, his bruises less vivid and his open wounds were closed.

  When Torvec’s power left me, I felt weak and realised I wouldn’t be able to remain with Galahad for much longer. I looked at him and forced his head to turn toward me.

  His dark eyes were full of wonder. “How?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know but listen to me, Prince of Albion. I love you. We will not allow her to separate us. You will not be here for long. You will fight and you will live. Deny me if you must. It doesn’t matter –”

  “But I love you,” he said.

  “Survive, Galahad. That’s all you need to do because I’m not letting you go and you will kill us both if you give up.” Weakness swept through me. “I have to go,” I said in exasperation.

  “You love me?”

  “Always.”

  “I remember the feel of your love for me,” he whispered.

  “Then hold it close, and we will be together again soon. We are going to find you. Promise me you will fight,” I insisted, knowing my time was up.

  “I promise,” he said.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  Tears tracked down his face. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I am not leaving you, I am coming for you,” I said, feeling his fear of being alone.

  He cried out my name but the power that helped me reach him vanished and I snapped back to the hillside near Aleah’s grave site, with Severus’ head in my lap and my hands clamped to the sides of his face.

  Severus opened his eyes. “I think I can find him,” he said weakly.

  I smiled and stroked his hair. “Good, we have to find him.”

  “Bring him home,” Severus managed, his eyes blinking heavily.

  “Bring him home,” I repeated and my mind finally shut down, the weak human blood betraying me at last. I passed out, thoughts of Galahad blurring together with Torvec and Severus.

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