Enchanted Warrior. Sharon Ashwood
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Gawain had kissed his share of maids, and more, but this was different.
Maybe it was because his nerves were raw after nearly losing her, or he was far too lonely, but he was utterly without defence.
The press of her soft lips was warm, filled with the lingering essence of woman and magic. And the spice did not end with her taste—it was in who she was. Her teeth nipped at his lower lip, inviting him to explore. Gawain didn’t need prompting. As her lips parted, he made a conquest of her sweet, silky mouth. Tamsin moaned slightly, the note of hunger urging him on.
Once permission had been granted, he pushed forward, savoring everything she gave. The first spark of passion had been physical, the effect of her beauty and the closeness of their bodies for so many hours. But beyond that was her courage, and the sheer will that had made her survive.
SHARON ASHWOOD is a novelist, desk jockey and enthusiast for the weird and spooky. She has an English Literature degree but works as a finance geek. Interests include growing her to-be-read pile and playing with the toy graveyard on her desk. Sharon is the winner of the 2011 RITA® Award for Paranormal Romance. She lives in the Pacific Northwest and is owned by the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness.
Enchanted Warrior
Sharon Ashwood
MILLS & BOON
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To Jane, Sol, Lee and Shereen, who hold the prize for reading my typos week after month after year.
You are steadfast and invaluable.
Contents
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Afterword
Once upon a time—so much begins that way. What we forget is that once upon a time can be an ending, too. This was a little of both.
Long ago there were many races that walked the world: humans, dragons, changelings, fae and countless others. It was the era of King Arthur and his knights of Camelot, a shining time that rode out of dreams and into the pages of well-thumbed books.
Back then the men of the Round Table were the pinnacle of knighthood, both in chivalrous acts and the might of their swords. They numbered one hundred and fifty of the hardest, the most brutal and the most fearless of men. Their purpose was to defend the realms of mortal kind against those with supernatural power.
At the height of Camelot’s glory, there came a war against the demons, led by Arthur and his sorcerer, Merlin. All the peoples—mortals, fae and even the witches—banded against the hellspawn under Camelot’s flag.
After a mighty battle, the demons fled the earth, but the magic Merlin used was too costly. The witches and fae were badly injured and they fled the mortal realms, swearing vengeance on Arthur and the humans he had promised to protect—even if it took hundreds of years to regain enough strength to fight.
With great sorrow, Arthur turned to his faithful knights, asking who among them would risk everything to protect the mortal world. Every one knelt and swore his loyalty. So Merlin cast a spell, turning the knights to stone statues upon their empty tombs. They would awaken, fierce and in their prime, when evil rose once more.
After that, Camelot vanished like a mist in an unforgiving wind. But in an ending there is always the seed of a new day.
That time is upon us.
Once upon a time is now.