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My name is Sofiel and I fell from grace close to a thousand years ago. A lost angel, stripped of my wings and cursed to forever walk this earth, but not as a human: no, as an aberration, all because I fell in love.
Righteous and full of valor, my Galahad roamed the lands with a pure heart, riding for the vain quest of his king, a quest for immortality draped under the twisted guise of religion. He had all the regal charm of his father, Lancelot, but not the tenacious appetite for the female form.
No, he had a different insatiable hunger altogether.
* * * *
THE KING STEWED, PLOTTED and planned, calculating how he could use Galahad to bring him what he coveted. When Galahad yanked Excalibur from the stone, the king’s hopes renewed and he proclaimed his chosen martyr as the greatest knight in the world, and sent him to retrieve the Holy Grail.
What a snow job. Hence my entrance onto the scene.
I was sent as a warning, as a sign from God meant to open the young knight’s eyes to the false pretenses of his king.
I still remember the smell of the pines drifting around me as I stood on the horse path, waiting. That first view took me by surprise; his golden hair glimmered against the green backdrop of the forest, his skin—like a bronzed porcelain doll—rivaled the beauty I encompassed, but it was his eyes that gave me pause. The blue of Caribbean mixed with the blue of the afternoon sky created a soothing portal I got lost in. Forgetting my purpose, I stared as his white steed came to a halt before me; my wings fluttered with uncertainty.
No fear presented itself in those irises, just an innate curiosity that left me speechless. The man flashed pearly whites in my direction. “My dear fae, you are blocking my path.”
I tilted my head and spread my wings to their intimidating breadth. “I’m no fae, kind sir. I am the angel Sofiel and I have been sent from the heavens to pass on a message.”
His smile faded. He dismounted, fell to his knee before me and averted his eyes. “Forgive me, angel. What message say you?”
I couldn’t help myself. I touched his golden locks; a sensation softer than silk caressed my fingertips and overwhelmed me. The corset pressing my bosom tightened uncomfortably, the earthly outfit became snug against the warmth that fluttered in my belly.
He raised his oceanic gaze to mine and a crease appeared between his eyes. “What say you, angel?”
“King Arthur must not attain possession of the Holy Grail,” I whispered. “It is not for him to use for his own vanity.”
Galahad blinked and stood; he took a step backwards.
“My king is not vain.”
“His intent is impure.”
Eyebrows arched and he went to speak but I stepped forward. I pressed my finger to his mouth to stop the argument from passing between us.
The satin of his smooth, warm lips sparked a heat through my celestial being like a comet streaking across the sky and locked me in the flesh I donned for the intervention.
“His intent is impure,” I repeated and stepped closer, drawn to those eyes.
“And what of your intent?”
Thunder rumbled above, my Lord making his presence known as carnal desire swept through me. I ran my fingertips from his lips to the line of his chest. “My intent was to deliver the message.”
His lips twitched to a smile. “And what of it now?”
The low purr of his voice enchanted me and struck me silent. I searched his playful gaze; my wings again trembled, but not from doubt. They quavered with the sudden onslaught of lust.
This time he closed the space between us and ran his fingers from my shoulders down my bare arms until they laced with my own.
Lightning traced the sky and his steed whinnied but his gaze remained on mine. The small dimples in his cheeks faded and he ever so slightly leaned in, his breath sweet and enticing as it grazed across my cheek.
“What is your intent, angel?”
My intent had indeed changed, much to the chagrin of my father—his clanging in the sky a constant reminder of his presence and his disappointment in the need that stirred in my soul. I met Sir Galahad’s inquisitive eyes, his lips a fraction away from mine, and found my voice. “My intent is pure.”
He laughed in that instant, a musical laugh to be sure, and he shook his head. “Based on what I see in your eyes, I think not.” His hands unclasped from mine and slid around my waist. He pulled me against his well-defined chest. The strong beat of his heart resounded through my corset, each beat a step further into eternal damnation.
My wings fluttered, folding neatly in place, and I let out a shaky breath. My hands, firm on his chest, ran up around his neck. I tilted my head to the side and watched the wicked gleam dance in his eyes. Before I could speak, his lips covered mine and time stood still.
The sweet flavor of the bread he had for breakfast followed his tongue into my mouth and I twirled mine with his; the exquisite dance left me breathless and weak in his arms. My heart, which for thousands of years belonged to God, surrendered into Galahad’s hands with that first taste.
He shifted with the kiss still in full throttle and his hand slid to the front of my bodice. He caressed the fabric covering my bosom; his touch sent tingles through my earthly form and recreated the landscape of heaven.
A small sigh escaped between our lips and his hand retreated, leaving only his chest crushed against mine. The clap of thunder diminished the sound of tearing fabric and Galahad’s fingers traced the newly revealed skin on my back. Without breaking the kiss, he stripped the corset off my body and tossed it to the side of the path.
His velvet lips left mine and I let out a squeak of protest, but he took no mind. Butterfly kisses trailed to my jaw, dipping below and tickling the line of my neck. Tingles encompassed me; a layer of chills cascaded over my heated skin. His hands traveled to my breasts; the tips of his fingers ran over the hardened nipples, and I squirmed with delight at his gentle kneading.
Waves of fresh sensations raked over my skin and his hand gave way to his mouth. His tongue flicked over my nipples in unison with my heartbeat and fluttering wings. I exhaled, my eyes rolling back in rapture, and I ran my fingers through his silken hair. I held him to my bosom; he explored every inch of my exposed flesh with his mouth.
Fervor drove him and he pushed me into the woods to a large rock hidden by cypress branches. He stripped my petticoat, removing all means of trusses that kept him from his goal. Propping me on the rock, he took a moment to scan my maiden form. The smile that surfaced thrilled me and my skin, the flesh of this whelp, cried out for his touch.
“Sir Galahad,” I said and his eyes met my gaze, hungry and feral.
He dropped to his knee. He ran his hands up my legs and spread them wide, the gleam in his eyes satiating my duress. The moment his tongue spread my lips and dipped into my pussy, I cried out. This was paradise. With my feet resting on his shoulders, my knight licked and flicked my clit until I thought I saw the clouds part and heaven’s hand reach for me. The wave of ecstasy rushed through my frame accompanied with a moan that bordered on a song of praise.
Galahad lapped the flood between my legs. He reveled in my wetness and mumbled something akin to drinking the nectar of the gods. His fingers slid inside me, gentle at first and then more insistent. The sinuous movement arched this body, creating an ache in my loins only he could satisfy.
He pulled away and wiped his mouth and chin with his hand. His sparkling eyes met mine as he shrugged my feet from his shoulders.
“Don’t stop!”
Dimples appeared and he stood. He kissed me and shifting so he now leaned on the rock and I stood naked before him; my wings fluttered in agitation until he brought my hands to the ties holding his britches in place. I ran my palm over the front of his pants and felt the stiffness of his manhood beneath.
Thunder clapped and lightning streaked across the sky, but I ignored the warnings. With my eyes locked on his, I unthreaded the laces and set his cock free of the fabric. He closed his eyes when I wrapped my hand around his shaft and lightly stroked.
“Angel, I want your heavenly mouth.” He ran his hands into my hair and directed me to my knees on the soft bed of moss.
A drop of dew glistened on the head of his erect penis and I licked the salty sustenance. I glanced up at his half-mast gaze. His smile alone was enough to charm his cock further in my mouth; I tasted him, explored his ample length and sucked his balls between each seductive pass. My mouth covered his entire scrotum and I tickled him with my tongue.
“Sofiel.”
His groan filled my soul just as his cock overflowed my mouth. I swallowed his length until my lips met his pelvis. I closed my eyes and drew back until only the sensitive tip was left; I rolled my tongue over it, eliciting another few drops of his nectar.
His hand embedded in my hair and guided the pace; his hips thrust faster and faster in time with the strokes of my lips until his seed flooded my mouth and bubbled around the slick skin of his cock. I swallowed with him still full in my mouth and sucked his juices until nothing was left. He shuddered.
I sat back on my heels, wiped the stray drops off my face, and met his satiated gaze. His hand combed through my hair and he fingered the texture before it retreated.
I sent a glance toward the dark heavens. My God still announced his displeasure, but like a stubborn child, I forsake him and focused back on Galahad. He leaned languid against the rock and studied me with a hint of a smile.
I took a step away and his hand gripped my arm. He pulled me back into his arms and hiked us both onto the flat surface of the rock so I straddled his waist. His lips were already on mine and sucked the breath from my lungs. His strong hands held me in place and he circled my hips slowly on his cock to coax it to life.
I stripped his shirt and ran my hands over his smooth, tanned skin. “You are perfect.”
He chuckled. “No, fair angel. I am far from perfect.”
I stopped my slow exploration of his chest and arms and met his amused gaze. “Oh but you are. You are worthy of immortality.”
His eyebrows arched and his rich laughter echoed in the forest. “I just seduced the Lord’s angel. I think that puts me in the damned category.”
Before I could protest, he crushed my lips and swiped his tongue into the recesses of my mouth. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and kissed him like it was my last act on earth.
He lifted my hips and slid his stiff cock inside me. I gasped; my eyes flew open at the sudden sting of his thrust breaking my innocence. Pain gave way to unearthly pleasure as he filled my womb and rocked me up and down his hard shaft. Gentle rocking transitioned to frantic thrusts, both of us panting and sweating in the heat of the forest.
I arched into the orgasm and his lips latched onto my breast, his breath hot and raspy. His hips continued their plunge even as my body shuddered and relaxed. I rode the storm of emotion, of physical sensations accosting me; I reveled in it, bordering religious fanaticism. Heaven couldn’t compare to being in his arms, and when the trembling subsided and he lifted his gaze to mine, I knew I found utopia.
He smoothed the hair away from my face to search my eyes. Questions laced the depths of his gaze but none flowed from his slightly parted lips. Instead, he offered a dazzling smile and lifted me from his lap, setting me on my feet.
The sky sent a flash of lightning in my direction, but I couldn’t spin away fast enough. I screamed and flapped my singed wing; sharp agony pierced the nerves and sent tendrils of pain through my back. I fell to my knees.
Galahad moved swiftly to douse the budding flames with his discarded shirt. Blackened fluff fell to the ground around me; the unpleasant stench of burnt feathers filled the thick air and I gagged, coughing and sputtering through the intended suffering. My breath wheezed and I scanned the scattered mess, raising my eyes to his.
Deep concern reflected in the pools of his irises and he knelt next to me, his hand gentle on my shoulder. “Sofiel.”
Pain kept me silent and I shook my head, my lungs barely able to draw breath, never mind speak. God’s judgment—his punishment—reeled in my mind. This debilitating agony was meant to continue for all time.
“Cut them off.” I squeezed out the words. I clung to the hope that by removing my injured wings, I could end the sensation of a thousand daggers piercing my skin and be granted a stay of execution.
He hesitated long enough to read the plea in my eyes and then disappeared from view. He returned with Excalibur shining in one hand and my discarded clothing in the other.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and bowed my head low so the arch of my back faced the sky. The molted wing trembled from both fear and pain. He grabbed the broken wing and I gasped. With a whoosh of air and gleaming steel, the blackened appendage fell to the ground. My last conscious act was to spread my good wing.
The whistle of his blade followed me into the dark.
* * * *
BRIGHT LIGHT BLED THROUGH my eyelids and I hissed at the sharp pain in my back.
“Shhh,” he whispered and stroked his fingers through my hair. He repeated the slow, calming motion.
The cot I laid on dug into my ribs and I shifted. I winced as I turned my head toward him. Cool liquid dripped from a cloth he held, coating the burning strips where my wings once resided. I met his gaze.
“You’re going to be all right.” He offered a slight smile but his eyes belied the assurance in his voice.
“I’ll live.” My voice was nothing more than a croak. I’d live until the sun in the sky died and this planet shriveled into a husk of its former self, and even then I’d walk the dark ruins until the earth was no more.
That earned me a full smile and a kiss on my temple. “My Sofiel.” The words accompanied a sigh and I raised an eyebrow.
“What do you want with a broken angel?”
Galahad’s eyes softened and his finger traced the line of my cheek. “Broken or not, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever set eyes on.” He dipped the rag in the bucket of water and raised it over my back again to soothe the burn of broken skin.
A knock at the door interrupted his musing and he looked away from me. He dropped the cloth on the table as he crossed to the door, opened it and waved the cloaked figure inside.
When the hood fell back, I tensed, wincing in silence. Sir Galahad had called upon the king’s witch.
“Thank you for coming.” He hung Merlin’s cloak by the door.
Merlin nodded and turned toward me, studying the wounds in my back from a distance.
“Can you help her?”
Merlin drew a deep breath and stepped closer.
I recoiled. The thought of earthly magic sickened me, especially from this goon.
Galahad knelt next to me and took my hand. “Merlin will not harm you.”
I wanted to laugh, but the sincerity in his eyes kept me quiet. I nodded assent. Merlin slid to the side of the cot and placed his hand inches from the gashes. His heat pulsed over my skin, raking impurity over my body; it made my skin crawl.
Merlin muttered a healing spell in Gaelic and waved his hand over the length of my torso. Heat prickled my skin and a maddening itch formed. I squirmed under the sensation; I wanted to rake my back against a pole like a scratching dog until it went away. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped Galahad’s hand harder.
The shuffle of feet brought my eyelids open and I gazed up at the witch. He offered a tilt of his lips in what I could only assume was a smile. With a nod, he retrieved his cloak and slipped out the door without a word.
Galahad ran his hands over the now unbroken skin. He traced marks I couldn’t see and then brought his eyes to mine. “The bleeding has stopped.”
I nodded.
“Merlin is a powerful wizard.”
I couldn’t argue with him. My pain had diminished but what replaced it was just as undesirable. An insane tingle gripped my back and it required the type of scratching that broke skin and left bloody welts. I didn’t want to burst his reverie, so I smiled, shifting a little under his hand.
“Would you like to see?”
I blinked several times, not understanding the question. “See what?”
He stood and returned with a silver looking glass so I could see the reflection of my back. I gasped. Embedded in colorful glory was a tattoo of my former wings covering the top half of my back; the tips of the wings ended in shimmering gold lining the edge of my shoulders. The beautiful mark covered my scars and incorporated them into the ornate design.
My hand fluttered to my mouth and I ripped my gaze from the looking glass to his eyes. He smiled, mesmerized by the design, and then lowered the mirror. “It’s as beautiful as you are.”
I sat up on the cot, flexing my shoulder blades against the itch. How could I tell him it was a mark of disgrace meant as a warning to steer clear? The tattoo signaled my damnation. “Sir—”
He stopped the words with a kiss. He lifted me to my feet and pulled me away from the sick bed. I broke free of his lips and stepped away from him, turning back to the place I woke. My eyes widened at the crimson sheets and the droplets of blood that stained the floor; even the water in the bucket was tinged red. I snapped my gaze to his, understanding the awe in his eyes.
I pointed to the soiled cloth and he nodded.
“If Merlin had not come...” He trailed off, offering a shrug instead. He led me to a separate room, one that contained several buckets of water and clean cloths. He stood me in the center over a fine grate and washed the blood from my body and hair until I glistened.
I closed my eyes, sighing at his gentle touch, so different than the feral heat in the woods, but still it stirred my need. As if reading my mind, Galahad tossed the dirty rag away and stepped closer. His lips ran over my emblem and his hands cupped my wet breasts.
“Sofie,” he whispered, shortening my name and nibbling my earlobe. His fingers traced slow rings down my belly until they reached my pubic nest. Parting the fine hairs, he circled my clit and my body responded.
My nipples hardened and my breath quickened; he chuckled. His teeth raked the skin of my throat before he bit down and teased and sucked the tender skin.
I closed my eyes, lost in the feel of him pressing against my back and his hands playing my body like a fine musician. I wrapped my arm around his neck and met his hungry lips with my own.
The heat between us steamed the room and we dropped onto our knees. With my legs spread wide, his hand still plucked away and plunged into the depth of my wetness with bravado. His kisses lined my neck and shoulders and his hand squeezed my breast; he rolled the nub of my nipple with his thumb and forefinger. A concert of sensations bowed through me. I arched and moaned with pleasure; I came for my prince as his fingers tempted the wet rush further.
He pushed me forward and I landed on my hands, panting and writhing with the rhythm of his fingers. Desire swept me away and when my body shuddered with another deep orgasm, his hard cock breached the circle of my anus. He plunged into the depth of my bowels and brought forth a cry of passion so loud it almost sounded like a howl.
“Oh. My. God.” Each word was accentuated with a thrust; his hand still alternated between playing with my clit and plunging into my pussy. He fondled my breast and clamped his mouth on the base of my neck.
We moved in sync, grinding our hips and whispering promises of a lifetime of pleasure. I lost count how many times I came, but each wave brought a rush of wetness until his drenched hand clamped down and he rode his own orgasm. My name escaped from his lips and his semen flooded my bowels.
He sat back on his heels and pulled me with him in a great bear hug until his rasping breath subsided. “I believe I’m in love with a fallen angel,” he whispered more to himself than to me.
His words made my heart soar, for I knew the moment I saw him on his steed that I indeed was in love with him.
* * * *
I WALKED INTO THE MAIN room of the house in the dress he laid out for me. The silken fabric caressed my skin and flowed around me like a band of clouds. Galahad looked up from the scroll of parchment in his hands and inhaled.
“Wow.” His gaze scanned me from head to toe and a smile formed on his lips. “Sofie, you put Lady Guinevere to shame.”
I rolled my eyes at him and my stomach clenched. The most awful growling came from my belly and I pressed my hand to my abdomen. Panic laced my thoughts and a metallic tinge tainted my mouth.
His smile faded. “What’s wrong?” He dropped the letter on the table. The beast within me growled again. He looked at my hand and then back to my eyes and laughed. “Sounds like you’re hungry.”
“Hungry?”
“Now that you’re human, you need to eat.” He led me to the table and pulled the chair out, signaling for me to sit. He returned a moment later with a plate full of breads, cheeses, and grapes.
I looked at the delectable feast before me and licked my lips. I reached for the sweet smelling bread and smiled my appreciation.
He took the seat opposite me and bit his lower lip as he picked up the parchment. His gaze traveled between the written words and my face. He drew a great breath, the force of it swelling his chest, and I knew it was bad news.
“I must leave.”
I dropped my busy hands to the table, the bread forgotten as I stared into his mesmerizing eyes. The force of his words sucked the air from my lungs.
“I’ve been given a new territory to explore.” He waved the paper. “King Arthur thinks the grail is here.”
I snatched the paper from him and scanned the letters, none of which made sense, but the map—the map was very familiar. Without tilting my chin, I raised my eyes to his. I knew where the grail resided. I also knew the dangers set for the unworthy and the map burned into the parchment was not accurate. It would lead to my love’s painful death.
“The grail is not there.” I dropped the parchment and popped a grape into my mouth. “Your king leads you to your death.” I pointed my chin in disdain.
“I must follow his orders.” Galahad stood. His jaw tensed and his eyes revealed the stubborn fire keeping him alive and thriving.
I put down the string of grapes and stood. “Then I go with you.”
Eyebrows arched and he stepped back and laughed.
I could see the argument building behind his bright blue eyes and I circled around the table to stand before him. “I can lead you to the grail.”
His laughter died in his throat and the incredulous expression altered. His eyebrows furrowed together and his supple lips parted but speech didn’t come. I stepped closer and he searched my eyes, until his brow smoothed.
“You know where the cup of life is?”
I cocked my head to the side. “Yes. All the angels know.”
His hand cupped my cheek. “Sweet Sofie, tell me where it is.”
“I can’t tell you where it is. But I will show you.”
“There are many dangers in the forest...”
I smiled and put my fingers to his lips to shut the flow of words. “The only danger I see is for you. I may be trapped in human form, but that does not mean I am human. I can’t die.”
His eyes traveled to the corner where the sick-bed had been and then back to mine, begging to differ.
“I can suffer, but I can’t die.” My clarification brought a pained look to his eyes.
“Sofie...” He ran his thumb across my lips.
“If you must go on this quest, I will make sure you live through the perils. Many traps await he who covets the grail.”
His smile softened. “I do not covet the grail, fair angel. I wish to protect it from those who would pirate its power.”
“I know.” And that’s why you’ll be successful where others have failed. “Only the righteous can find the grail.”
“Well then, this ought to be a wild goose chase.” The dimples I loved appeared in his cheeks.
“You doubt you’re worthy?”
He kissed me. “I yanked you from the heavens, so yes, I doubt I am worthy.” He exhaled. “But if I am riding to my death, I sure as hell don’t want to waste a moment without you.”
* * * *
I STOOD AT THE DOORWAY to the bedroom and watched Galahad slip the chain mail over his head. The metal settled on his chest and he smoothed it before he slipped on his breast and back plate. His family crest almost glowed on the front of his finely polished iron. With Excalibur secured at his waist, he turned toward me.
He was a vision in full garb. He strolled toward me; my heart fluttered and my cheeks flushed with heat.
He paused in front of me. “Why, Sofie, you’re blushing.”
Mischief laced his gaze; I smiled and dropped my eyes to the ground. His finger guided my chin back up until my eyes met his. “Are you getting shy on me?”
Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Galahad in his armor was an intimidating force and I indeed shied away. My insides quivered from the fear-lined lust and I shrugged. If he had been decked out in his armor, I might have stayed my course; instead, he wore casual clothing, riding with only Excalibur to protect him. The loose fitting shirt showed off the line of his neck and the breadth of his chest and seduced me.
He chuckled and slapped my ass with his gloves. “Come on, Lady Sofiel, let’s ride.”
I followed him to the stable and his beautiful steed. The horse whinnied and threw his head at the sight of me.
“Calm now, Shadow,” Galahad cooed. He stroked the stallion’s mane. “Sofie will be riding with us.”
Shadow’s gaze held mine and he stepped forward. He rubbed his muzzle against my cheek and almost knocked me to the ground. The musty odor of the animal intrigued me, and I rubbed the patch between his eyes with my fingernails. I swear he smiled at me and then Galahad fit the bit into the horse’s mouth.
Once the saddle was fitted and tightened, Galahad turned and offered me his hand. “My lady.”
I stepped closer and he hoisted me up on the saddle. Uncomfortable in the precarious position I was in, I hiked my dress up and swung a leg over to straddle the horse and feel much more secure. He raised a single eyebrow in my direction.
“What?”
He shook his head and attached his helmet to the roll on the back of the saddle.
“What?” I repeated.
“That’s not exactly the way a lady rides.” He slid his foot in the stirrup and swung behind me and reached under my arms for the reins. With a click of his tongue the horse set off at a slow trot.
“How exactly should a lady ride?” I twisted to see his beautiful eyes. They dropped to my exposed thighs and rose to the path winding into the woods.
“To the side, the way I set you on the saddle.”
I gawked at him. “But that was so uncomfortable.”
A wisp of a smile appeared, and his eyes dropped again. “It may be uncomfortable for you, but having your legs showing like that is a bit distracting.”
One of his hands dropped from the reins and lay on my skin; warmth radiated from the origin and spread into the space between my legs.
“Especially since I know you lack undergarments.” His hand slid under the folds of my skirt; he found the silken skin of my vulva, parted it and slid his finger inside my moist pussy.
“You are insatiable.”
He chuckled. “I saved it all for you, dear angel. My sexual appetite didn’t awaken until you appeared, so perhaps I’m just making up for lost time.” He kissed my cheek. “And what of you? Your hunger matches mine.”
I lay my head back against his chest as his hand turned my insides to molten lava; my thoughts jumbled in the wake of his sweet strokes.
“What of you, angel?” His breath tickled my ear and he grasped it with his teeth, nibbling and making me squirm and giggle in the saddle. His hand continued the slow, sweet fondling.
“What of me?”
“How many men have you bedded in your travels?” He kissed my temple.
“Just you.”
His hand paused at my answer and he leaned a little to the side to see my face. I turned to his wide, shocked eyes.
“I fell from grace, for you.”
He blinked and straightened in the seat behind me, his hand still between my legs but motionless. After a few moments, he resumed his gentle massage in silence.
The constant stride of Shadow against the hard-packed dirt became the only sound between us. Even my quickening breath remained lower than the clopping hoofs, but the moan that welled in my chest along with the sudden release shaking my form was anything but quiet.
Sir Galahad chuckled in my ear and dipped his fingers inside my dripping pussy. “Sweet, sweet Sofie.” One more plunge and then he pulled his hand away, took the reins and clicked his tongue twice.
Shadow shot like a flaming arrow and my protest caught in my throat as we galloped through the dense forest. Galahad pushed me forward so the low hanging branches couldn’t swipe us off the horses back. I held onto fists full of Shadow’s mane; the wind blasted my face, the speed both frightening and exhilarating.
Up ahead lay a crossroads and Galahad pulled back on the reins. “Whoa boy.”
The horse immediately skidded to a halt at the crossroads. Galahad pulled out the map and before he could unroll it, I looked to my right. The challis called to me from that direction, its sweet voice musical and pure. I pointed south without speaking.
He still unrolled the parchment and studied the map until I turned. He raised his eyes to meet mine, his brow furrowed with deep worry lines. “This says we go north.”
“The map directs you down the wrong path.”
He rolled up the paper and slid it into the sack behind him.
I offered a smile to quell his uneasiness and his face blossomed into the mischievous grin I so loved. He took my hands and wrapped them around the reins. “Lead the way.”
“The cup is not in England.”
“I gathered.”
“It’s in the Caucasus Mountains.”
His eyes widened. “In the kingdom of Georgia?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a four-month ride.”
“Yes.”
Silence encompassed us and only the gentle click of Shadow’s hoofs broke the quiet. After close to an hour, I turned my head to catch a glimpse of his face: his jaw line tense, his brows furrowed in thought, and his blue eyes carried the weight of our journey.
“Do not fret. We will be fine.” I turned back toward the road.
He didn’t answer, just pressed his lips to my shoulder, his soft locks brushing my cheek and setting my soul on fire.
* * * *
WEEKS WENT BY AND GALAHAD tended to my saddle sores night after night between our bouts of love making. My once beautiful silken dress hung in rags, crusted with my sweat, stained with his semen, and marred by the dirt we lay in each evening. I begged for more suitable riding clothes and when we passed into the kingdom of Hungary, he finally gave in to my requests. He bartered for a pair of britches and a simple peasant shirt to slip over my head instead of the rags clinging to my slight form. He also bargained for a comfortable pair of riding boots in favor of the slippers I wore and a heavy coat to keep me warm through the Bulgarian mountain passes. These clothes weathered the ride much better, kept me warm and left me without sores.
When we reached Constantinopolis on the western shore of the Black Sea, Sir Galahad bought me a sword and began to teach me the fine art of sword fighting.
My arms burned from holding the heavy metal and parrying his attacks for the last hour. “Why do I need to learn this?” I whined.
Galahad straightened, standing down. “Because the kingdom of Georgia is not as civilized as the land we have passed thus far and I want you to be able to defend yourself if something happens to me.”
Tears blurred my vision. Heaven never prepared me for the onslaught of emotions being in human form produced and my chest tightened with the thought of Galahad harmed. He had proved his valor and strength time and time again on our journey, fending off bandits and rogue knights volleying for my favor. With Excalibur at his side, he was an unstoppable force.
“Are you crying?”
I blinked the tears back at the disdain in his voice and flipped my hair over my shoulder before I raised the sword again. With a sniffle, I shook my head. I did not want him to see this weakness, did not want him to know the thought of losing him struck fear in my heart.
From that point on, our days consisted of riding from dawn till dusk, eating a light dinner before sparring for a couple of hours and then falling into our bed, exhausted, but never too tired not to partake in sexual activity. You see, Galahad was insatiable; he couldn’t get enough of me, and I—I matched his voracious hunger with zeal.
* * * *
THE MASSIVE SKYLINE of the Caucasus range loomed before us. I shivered at the white peaks and the cold mountain air that whipped my hair into tangles. Galahad nuzzled his frigid nose into the crook of my neck and turned the shiver into a rampant shudder of chills.
“Cold, my lady?”
The chatter of my teeth answered him and he chuckled in my ear. I pointed toward a winding rocky path just wide enough for Shadow to pass through. “Th, th, that w, w, way,” I managed to stutter through my clacking teeth.
He put the reins in my hands, shifted and a moment later, he draped a warm blanket over my shoulders and wrapped it around me as tight as he could. With a squeeze, he took the reins back and clicked his tongue.
Shadow reacted and dashed up the hidden trail winding up the side of the mountain and into a gully. Steep canyon walls embraced us and the path turned to a solid rock wall, ending just as abruptly as it began. Shadow whinnied and tossed his head back.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Press your palm on that indent in the center of the rock.”
He positioned Shadow sideways next to the rock and did as I requested. At first nothing happened, and he sighed. He pulled his hand away, but the indent noticeably changed to take the form of his hand.
I nodded toward the rock. “Again.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
“Just put your hand there again.”
He did and this time, white light spread from the rock, surrounded his hand and crept up his arm; it pulled him toward the rock and beyond the solid surface. He wrapped his arm around my waist to yank me into the enveloping light.
We tumbled to the ground on the other side of the magical entranceway. Shadow whinnied and pawed and danced around in a circle. I reached for him to settle his obvious nerves but my hand hit a solid, cold looking glass. My fingers ran across the smooth surface and I turned to Galahad. A strange sensation filled my form, and this time I had a name for it. Awe—the same kind of awe I used to feel stepping into the kingdom of heaven.
He traced his fingers over the glass before returning his gaze to mine. Without a word, he turned and surveyed the dark cavern; his hand slid to the hilt of Excalibur.
I laced my fingers in his and stepped toward the only available outlet. He stopped me.
“I will go first.”
I raised my eyebrows, but he ignored my incredulous expression. He drew Excalibur and took the lead.
We did not encounter danger, at least not in the mortal sense, but the deep cavern pathway led us higher and higher, winding in circles until the path opened up to an enormous cave. The stone stairwell stretched upwards along the walls of the cave, spiraling without a railing. Bright light shone in from various archways along the stairs. He stepped into the center of the cavern and uttered an exhausted breath.
Galahad tore his gaze from the impending stairwell and scanned the cave. He licked his lips and looked at me. “You wouldn’t happen to have one of those loaves of bread, would you?”
I shook my head. My stomach echoed his unspoken sentiments.
He exhaled and looked up at the long journey ahead. “In that case, maybe we should rest a bit.”
When his eyes returned to mine, I understood his definition of rest and it came with that playful grin. The blankets rolled off my shoulders and crumpled to the ground at my feet. He closed the distance.
My hunger transitioned into a need that throbbed in my belly. Anticipation of his touch moistened both my pussy and my lips, and his hands found the ties to my britches. His mouth covered mine. Longing prickled my skin, even as he pulled the cloth from my body, replacing the garments with the strokes of his hands and the warmth of his mouth. He broke free long enough to spread the blanket and strip his armor; the metal clanked to the ground and echoed off the stone walls. Then he was on me—his hands, his tongue inside me, teasing until my moans filled the cavern. Heat stripped me of any modesty and I wrapped my legs around his neck and buried my hands in his hair.
“Yes! Oh Galahad, yes!” I repeated over and over, until the blanket below me was wet with my juices. Only then did he shift; he crawled up my body, kissed every inch and left my skin burning with every pass of his lips. When his mouth covered mine, mingling our tongues in a frantic dance, his hard cock slammed inside my aching pussy, eliciting another orgasm and muffled moan.
We rode hard and fast, both of us climaxing in the same moment. His name cascaded from my lips in a crescendo of ecstasy.
If I had known what awaited us, I would have lingered in his arms longer, but after the euphoria wore off, the bite in the air nipped at our skin and hurried us back into our clothing.
With nothing left to do but stare between each other and the staircase, we began our ascent. By the time we reached the first arch, the daylight was fading and clouds of mist blocked our view. The stairwell lining the arch was wet and slick; my foot slid off the edge of the step and threw me forward. My chin slammed into the stone, cracking both skin and bone. Dazed, I slipped further over the edge and my heart leapt into my throat. Panic skittered over my skin and my hands reached too late to find purchase on the icy surface as my body started the freefall.
My shirt yanked and cloth tore, but Galahad remained on the stairwell, a handful of the peasant shirt tightly in his grip. He pulled me into his chest and stepped away from the open edge of the stairwell, holding me tight. His chest rose and fell, his breath haggard, and his erratic heartbeat, mixed with my own, echoed in my ear.
Blood from my chin stained his shirt and when I could hear above the pounding of my own heart, I pulled away enough to look into his haunted eyes.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
I wiped my sleeve on my chin and offered a smile I was sure was nothing more than lackluster. “I will be fine.”
His laugh echoed in the chamber and his gaze traveled from my bloody chin up the staircase. “Up or down?”
I bit my lip as I looked at both options. Above, periodic arches graced the pathway and offered the same slick surfaces I just encountered. The thought of traversing them in the dark sent my heart into overdrive again. Below was a known evil with no food or water, just the pile of blankets we used as a bed earlier. Either way, we would be in full darkness before long and we were more than halfway up the daunting path. “Up,” I finally said.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, and he slid Excalibur into his hilt. He took my hand, leading the way, and tested each stair before taking the step. His hand sweat in mine, evidence of the stress of the climb, but we made it to the top and through the small passageway into another cavern. This one boasted a pool of mirror-like water in the center and both of us rushed forward to spoon handfuls into our mouths. We swallowed the bitter liquid.
I coughed. The water sputtered out in a spray and disturbed the mirror-like quality. I shot to my feet and yanked him back. “No!” What I pointed at struck fear in my heart.
His eyes followed the path of my finger and he covered his mouth with his hand. The water was tainted with bloated bodies and only then did the vile stench of death hit us.
He vomited a stream of water and bile onto the floor, but I knew it wasn’t enough to rid his body of the poison. My eyes darted around the cavern, looking for the path—the path that would save Galahad’s life.
“There!” I yanked his hand even as his breath started its wheezing labor. “The grail is through there. It will save you! Go!” I shoved him in the fastest direction, straight through the pool.
We waded through the shallow lake, both of us wheezing and coughing; we stepped on bones that crunched under the weight of our feet. He climbed out and helped me onto the dry rock before he turned toward the opening. He stepped out onto the ledge and fell to his knees, coughing. “Jesus,” he managed to sputter, his eyes glued across the cavern.
A decrepit stone pathway connected the ledge we stood on with one close to fifty meters away. An ornate round hut graced the far plateau gleaming in the moonlight, sending shimmering beams bouncing against the rock walls.
I looked down into the smoky clouds. The swirling snow blocked any view of the ground miles below. His coughing fit pulled me out of the trance. “The grail,” I whispered.
He nodded and stood. “Wait until I get across.” Before he stepped on the stone path, he took me in his arms and kissed me with all the passion and fear we both felt. When he pulled away, he ran his fingers over my cheek and nodded; he turned on his heels and stepped onto the path with a confidence I lacked.
Winds pressed against him and he faltered; he fell to his knee before he gathered himself up and moved on again. When he stepped on the far ledge, I let out my breath, slightly dizzy from holding it so long.
He smiled at me and then coughed again; this time blood splattered from his lips and I pointed. “The grail!”
He nodded and disappeared inside the hut. I stared at the rock path, wondering whether God would allow me to cross, afraid to try without Galahad cheering me on. Time slowed. Each breath ripped my lungs to shreds in my chest; pain gripped me. I stared at the door and prayed to my Lord. Please don’t take my Galahad, please don’t let him die. My silent mantra continued until he stepped onto the ledge. He held the golden chalice in his hand; water dripping from the edge as well as from his chin. The smile on his lips was one of triumph and I knew he would live.
I fell to my knees. My tears blinded me even as they cascaded down my face. “Thank you.” The acknowledgment was bitter sweet because I knew he couldn’t leave the plateau he now stood on.
Galahad went to step on the path to bring the chalice to me, and I shook my head. “No!” He paused and cocked his head; he looked between the cup, the path, and me. “You can’t. You’ll die.”
Galahad set the cup on the ground inside the doorway and turned back toward me. “Now?”
“No, you can never leave.”
His expression fell, and he looked at the rock path. He tilted his head and listened to the wind gods whisper the truth of the grail to him. It was one thing to hold the cup of life, and an entirely different thing to drink from it. Yes, immortality begets from drinking, but so does the obligation to protect and serve the grail, which, for Sir Galahad, meant he had to remain on the secluded mountaintop or forfeit his life.
He raised his eyes to mine, haunted shells of what they had been when I first met him. They glimmered with one last strand of hope. I bit my lower lip against the sobs welling in my chest, and he held his hand out, beckoning.
I climbed to my feet and took a deep breath, hoping against hope as I stepped onto the rocky path. The path held, and I took another tentative step, which brought a smile to his lips.
I made it far enough onto the path to feel the winds batter against me and leave me teetering to catch my balance. But that’s not what froze me in place nor was it what wiped the smile from Galahad’s lips.
The rumbling tremor welled up from the bowels below and shook the ground around us. The path started to crumble. The first rocks to fall were those at Galahad’s feet.
“Run!”
His shout broke my paralysis and I bolted toward him. I dove the last bit of distance as the rocks crumbled from under me. My fingers missed the rock below the ledge where he stood, and then his hand brushed my wrist, but it wasn’t enough, and I plummeted. His frantic blue eyes locked with mine and his scream followed me into the abyss.
Some things are much worse than death.
As I fell, God whispered the extent of my fate: eternally damned to an existence of agony and torment and misery and pain.
Without my Galahad.
The End