Legendary (34 page)

“I told you to stop that, Dagg!” She pushed the Dragon from her lap and scrambled to her feet. “I told you to stop manipulating my feelings!”

The candles flashed to life all around the room. Stunned, she looked down. Tiny bits of pink fell from her hand. Her jaw dropped, eyes zooming back and forth between the candles and her hands.

“Well done, Aliana! You’re starting to tap into the connection,” Merlin praised.

Merlin’s right. This is all you’re meant for,
her mind whispered. How could she have been stupid enough to start feeling like she was one of them, like more than their key? Biting back a whimper, she forced down the lump in her throat. Merlin said something, but she hadn’t been paying attention.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, her voice barely there.

“I understand this is all hard for you.” He tried to place a hand on her shoulder, but she flinched back. She was afraid her magic would spring to life again or worse, that he would try to read her. “It’s hard on all of us at first, but this is good progress. Fire is a powerful element to have at your command. Do you want to try it again?”

“No.” She rubbed her temples, trying to buy some time to get her voice even again.

“Are you all right, Aliana?” Merlin asked, stepping closer.

“I’m a bit light-headed.” Not a total lie, but she would use anything she could to make an escape. “I think I just need to go lie down.” Hoping he wouldn’t follow, Aliana escaped the room, heading straight for her own room before her powder keg of emotions exploded.

“Aliana?” She wheeled around on the bottom stair as Arthur called her name. “You’re upset.” His brow furrowed as he stepped out from the library.

“I’m fine, Arthur.”

His full lips thinned. He knew she was lying.
Son of a biscuit!
Damn him for reading her so well.

“Okay, I’m not fine, but I’m just tired,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t give up until he was satisfied. “This magic stuff is just…taking more out of me than I thought it would.”

“Merlin’s pushing you too hard. I’ll speak to him.”

“No!” she said quickly. “You don’t need to do that. I just really need a nap. Please don’t make a fuss about this.” That was the last thing she wanted. But then, if her only purpose in life was to fulfill this prophecy, did what she want really matter?

“Can you tell the others I went to bed early, please?” she asked, taking a few steps up.

“What about dinner?”

“I honestly don’t think I could eat anything. I’ll come down later if I get hungry,” she promised, knowing she probably wouldn’t.

Arthur grabbed her hand before she could climb any more steps. She gulped, frozen in place as his thumb gently brushed against the inside of her wrist. “Only if you are sure you’re all right.” His golden eyes refused to let her eyes leave his.

She nodded slightly. “I will be.” Without giving him a chance to say more, she rushed the rest of the way to her room and had barely turned on her music before the first body-shaking sob broke free. Still in her jeans and She-Ra T-shirt, she collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in her pillow to muffle her crying.

How could everything in her life not mean anything? If the only reason she’d been born was to fulfill this stupid prophecy, what was the point of the life she’d lived—her friends, her family, and her art?

And what about her feelings for Galahad? Maybe she’d been right from the start. All she was to him was a way to stop Mordrid and get their lives back. That was all she was good for, and she was even screwing that up. She sobbed harder. Her heart cracked again as she lay there, crying out all her frustration and heartache.

Aliana ignored the repeated knocks on her door and Owen’s offer to bring her dinner. As far as they needed to know, she was asleep. Right now, she needed to get all her inner turmoil out so she could put on her happy face in the morning. The guys had enough to deal with and didn’t need to be bothered with her problems. The only thing they needed from her was their freedom.

Freeing the knights, saving the realms, and stopping Mordrid were the only things that mattered. The sooner she could accept that hard truth, the sooner she could pretend to the world that that knowledge didn’t threaten to break her completely.

20

I have to force myself to not confront Merlin because that is what Aliana wants. But I made it clear to Lord Daggerhorne that Merlin is not to upset her again, and he needs to be sure Merlin understands that. I want to see her smile, like she did last night when telling me about her parents. She doesn’t know that I saw Galahad kiss her at the party, and I can’t tell her. First Guinevere, now Aliana. I’m done holding back because of my ghost woman. Aliana’s not his yet—I won’t stop until she tells me she is. Even then I’m not sure I’ll give up.
~Arthur

A
LIANA
S
TRUGGLED
T
O
O
PEN
her tear-swollen eyes. It wasn’t even one a.m. She rolled onto her back, moaning in pain as her shoulders and neck protested the movement. Groggy, she traded her jeans and T-shirt for her PJs, then washed her face and swallowed some aspirin before falling back into bed.

She tossed for a few minutes, unable to get comfortable, and her thoughts from earlier returned. Disgusted with herself, she rolled out of bed, grabbing her quilt and sandals. Quietly, she crept out of her room and down the hall toward Merlin’s rooftop terrace. She inhaled the crisp night air, wrapping the quilt around her shoulders. Everything always seemed a bit better when she could breathe in fresh air under the moonlight.

Plopping down onto a wooden chair, she curled up, staring at the crescent moon playing peek-a-boo from behind the clouds. Taking another deep breath, she finally relaxed, wishing that Merlin wasn’t right about her “destiny” but knowing she would have to accept it. Maybe there was a way to accept it on her own terms, she thought as she drifted back to sleep.

Aliana shot awake on the hard wood chair. Gasping, she fanned herself, trying to cool the burning skin her nightmare always left in its wake. The fiery dream had returned, and she couldn’t get her parents’ screams out of her head.

She watched fog roll over the roof. Her eyes were still glazed from sleep, and through the mist she could barely made out a small shape on the roof ledge. A small fox with dark eyes and three tails sat on its haunches, staring at her. She wiped her eyes and looked again. Nothing was there except more fog where the imagined animal had been.

“Get a grip,” she scolded herself, grabbing the quilt. “The guys’ paranoia is starting to rub off on you.” Shaking her head, she snuck back downstairs.

“You shouldn’t fall asleep outside,” Dagg said, surprising her at the bottom of the steps.

“Shh,” she hissed. “Don’t wake the guys. Why are you here?”

“Your shield slipped, and I felt your anxiety. I was coming to wake you.”

“How many times do I have to ask you to stop reading my feelings? I need to have some sort of privacy here.”

“You already shut yourself off too much, Aliana.”

Beyond fed up with all these
boys
telling her what to do, she glared at the Dragon as she passed him. “I don’t need a know-it-all, nosy Dragon telling me what I should and shouldn’t do with
my
feelings.”

Galahad opened his door as she walked by. “What’s going on?” He wore only a pair of low-hanging sweatpants.

“Nothing,” she said, clearing her throat, and letting her eyes wander over his body. “I fell asleep upstairs.” She counted back from three, waiting for his lecture. He opened his mouth right on cue, but she held up her hand before he could speak. “Dagg already scolded me. I don’t need to hear it from you too.”

“What makes you think that was my intention?” he asked, crossing his arms across his broad, bare chest.

Aliana stared at him. “That’s all any of you seem to do. Even Percy and Owen are lecturing me now.”

“Aliana…”

“Please don’t, Galahad.” She didn’t having the energy to fight with him. “I just want to take a shower.” She escaped into her room.

Dropping the quilt, she flipped on the shower and discarded her pajamas. Standing under the barely warm water, she worked to get her combustible emotions pushed away into the hidey-hole in the back of her mind. When she felt more in control, she shut off the water. Wade would be knocking on her door soon for their early morning training. She quickly pulled on black riding shorts and a yoga top.

As she brushed the tangles out of her hair, she sighed, realizing she owed Galahad and Dagg another apology. It wasn’t their fault her magic-freak self was only good for this one thing. They were both victims of this whole curse too. Merlin’s words tried to surface again, but she pushed them down. The sky lightened, spilling gray morning light into her room.

Then Aliana got an idea. She opened the calendar in her phone, just remembering an appointment she’d totally forgotten about. It was with a potential client and was set for the next day. “Perfect! If I can get Arthur on my side, maybe I can convince Merlin that a field trip to get a break from this place is what we all need.” Maybe her purpose was to fulfill this prophecy, but she couldn’t let that rob her entirely of her life and the things that made her happy.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door.

“Morning, Wade,” she said, swinging the door open.

“Morning, Lia.” He wrinkled an eyebrow, taking in her lighthearted mood. “You good? You had me worried last night when you didn’t come down for dinner.”

“Sorry ’bout that. I was just exhausted and trying to deal with things—badly. I didn’t want to worry you guys.”

Wade studied her for a moment before she patted him on the arm and closed her door, stepping into the hall. “Can we get a quick breakfast before we start today? You still owe me my winnings from Galahad kicking your butt in the obstacle course.” Their wager was always to prepare and serve a delicious meal.

“Sure,” Wade said, following her to the kitchen. “I was actually thinking we’d skip practice altogether today.”

“Why?”

“Because, like I said, you had me worried last night, and I know you a lot better than any of the others. I think you could use a day off, and frankly, so could I.”

“Oh.” Leave it to Wade to say just the right thing. “If you’re okay with it, then I’m not going to argue. I need to talk to Arthur, anyway.”

“It’s settled,” Wade said, grabbing eggs and vegetables from the refrigerator while he muttered about how unfair it was that Galahad had super speed and strength.

Laughing, Aliana poured them both a glass of juice and took a seat at the counter while he created an omelet masterpiece. Dagg flew in a few minutes later, landing on the seat next to her. She offered him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for yesterday and last night. You were just trying to help me and I overreacted again.”

“Thank you for that, but please understand I only do what I do because I worry for you.” He hopped up onto the counter and whispered, “Things aren’t always what we think they are. Purposes and destinies in life are not always clear to us. Very rarely do they have only one purpose.”

“I think Merlin made mine pretty clear. I understand now what I have to do.”

Dagg opened his mouth to say more, but Wade placed a steaming hot pepper and onion omelet in front of Aliana with a bow and a devilish smirk.

“For you, m’lady.”

“Don’t start, Wade! Make one for Dagg too.”

“Will Wade be cooking for me as well?” Galahad asked, leaning against the doorframe. He was gorgeous in a pair of fitted jeans and a green T-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and chest.

“You’re on your own, pretty boy,” Wade muttered, cracking more eggs.

“Ignore him.” Aliana smiled as he took the stool next to her. “You can have mine and he can make me another.”

“Don’t you dare!” Wade said, spinning around and shaking his spatula at her. “You didn’t eat last night. He did.”

“He’s right. This one is yours,” Galahad said, pouring himself a glass of juice.

Nodding, Aliana took a bite of the heavenly creation. “Great as always, Wade.”

He placed another omelet in front of Dagg, and the Dragon, of course, promptly attacked his breakfast.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a brat in the hallway this morning,” she said softly to Galahad.

“You weren’t completely wrong. We do tend to lecture you more than we probably should.” He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Still.” She blushed, pulling away from his touch and taking another bite of her breakfast, but the eggs had lost their flavor.

“I understand that this is harder on you than it is us. If you have need, you can talk to me about it,” he offered almost shyly.

Aliana was touched, even though she knew she shouldn’t be—he was only trying to preserve the sanity of
the key
. She nodded as she took another flavorless bite.