Camelot's Crow | ✓ [BOOK 3]

~ 34 ~

"MORGANA," SAID A VOICE, muffled and distant. The faery tried to grasp it, but it was a breath out of reach. "Morgana," it came again, more determined this time. "Come on, wake up. Please."

Finally, he managed to find it in him to open his eyes. He was met by the sight of Kit hovering over him, shaking his shoulders, face covered in black dust. His head felt as though it'd been stuffed with cotton, but his vision was returning to him and he looked around him. There was nothing but rubble and bodies and dust surrounding them, and the room was illuminated by a golden light he couldn't identify.

"Giselle," he croaked. "Giselle, where is she? Is she alright?"

Kit couldn't find the words to answer his question. He was too busy wrapping Morgana into an embrace, cradling the back of his head. The faery hadn't the will nor the strength to pull away, but he searched over Kit's shoulder until he saw her. Giselle was awake, staring up at Selene with a distant look. The butterflies in her hair were gone, and her eyes were tired, but she was smiling, and he could feel her vibrant spirit from where he sat. She would be okay.

He took that as his cue to bury his face into Kit's neck. He was exhausted, he wanted a break, everything was getting too much. "I'm so tired," he groaned with a weak laugh.

Kit held him tighter. "You know, you don't have to be here, fighting my fight for me. You never had to. If you want to take a break, you can."

Morgana pulled back then, hesitantly, and cupped his face in his freezing hands. "Of course I have to be here," he told him in a gentle voice. "We're in this together, Kristofer. It affects me, too."

Kit gently gripped his wrist, looking down at him with glistening eyes. He turned his face to kiss Morgana's palm, and for a moment, they were the only people in the room.

"I was so afraid I might lose you," the prince breathed as Morgana gently stroked the soft hair behind his ear with his fingertips. "He took out Mab, I was so sure he would--"

"I'm here," Morgana muttered. His body ached in ways it never had before, but not enough to worry. He knew Kit wouldn't rest if he even let on that he was in any pain at all, though. "I'm alive, I'm okay."

"I know you are." Kit got lost in his eyes, and it was hard for Morgana not to do the same. He was so bright and so golden and so infuriatingly perfect, and the grin splitting over his face made his stomach flutter, even it made his head spin with the sudden change of emotions. "And you look damn sexy when you're shooting those arrows."

The faery rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help giving in to the kiss Kit was pulling him into. It was slow, deep, intimate. He missed this, he needed it, but as soon as it started to get passionate, Selene snapped her fingers at them, and they pulled apart.

"Oi! You two!" she hollered. When they turned their heads to look at her, she nodded in Lionel's direction.

The boy was chatting with Mab, his face bright and lively, and Morgana felt his bones get cold. He remembered the way he'd so confidently leapt in front of his arrow, something he couldn't have anticipated until it was too late, followed by a moment of inconsolable dread. If he'd accidentally been the one to kill Kit's son, he didn't think he would've known what to do. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to let his mind wander down a terrible path of "what if's."

"We can't exactly get a room," Kit told Selene, bringing Morgana back to the present, and he blushed, burying his face into his shoulder.

"Will you shut up?" Selene said.

Kit's laugh rumbled in his chest. "He's not even paying attention to us."

"Yeah, well I am," said the Lady. "And I'm not exactly interested in watching my nephew and his lover doing unseemly things in the middle of a battlefield."