Gwenvael grabbed her hand and dragged her over to one of the dressmaker shops. “We should get you something pretty.”
“We? You actually plan to spend money on me?”
“No. That’s my dear brother’s job. But I can dress you as the goddess you are. Especially because I have much better taste than him.”
Talaith laughed while he looked over the already made gowns and the available materials. Gwenvael had grown on her. True, she had no doubt he’d fairly leap between her legs if she even gave him the merest hint she might welcome him. But they both knew he’d only do it to annoy Briec.
Which was why she wasn’t surprised when Briec suddenly appeared behind her, glaring at Gwenvael.
“What are you doing?”
“Picking out a dress for you to buy for your lady.”
His lady?
“I am not his lady.”
“She’s not my lady.”
Talaith glared at Briec over her shoulder. “What do you mean I’m not your lady?”
“You just said you’re not my lady.”
She turned to face him. “I can say what I want. You, however, need to keep your mouth shut.”
“You know as I begin to forget your peasant upbringing, you seem to delight in reminding me.”
“As you pointed out before, my upbringing was not that of a peasant. I am the daughter of a merchant.”
“A sea merchant?”
Her eyes narrowed. Sea merchants held extremely bad reputations throughout Dark Plains and Alsandair. Rumors abounded that most of them were more pirates than merchants, their boats coming down from the Northland Sea and raiding seaside towns. “No, you arrogant—” She stopped speaking and looked down at the big hands holding a lovely dress up in front of her. Of course, leave it to Gwenvael to hold her dress up by taking a firm grasp of her br**sts.
Before she could tell him to get his bloody hands off, Briec beat her to it. “Remove your hands, brother.”
Gwenvael’s large, strong body pressed against her back while his golden head leaned over her shoulder and stared down, she assumed, at the dress. “I wanted to see how this looked on her before you buy it.”
“Remove your hands…or lose your hands.”
Keeping his head firmly against her shoulder, Gwenvael lifted only those big gold eyes of his. “Now, now, brother. Temper, temper.”
“Oh!” Talaith slammed her foot down into Gwenvael’s instep.
“Ack!”
She pulled away from Gwenvael and quickly maneuvered around Briec before he could grab hold of her either, so her back faced the shop exit. “Both of you cut it out. I will not be tugged between you two like a…a…”
“Fine sweetmeat?”
“Delicious morsel?”
“Tasty tidbit?”
“Scrumptious delicacy?”
“Decadent delight?”
She held her hands up. “Stop. Stop.”
“Good gods, brother.” Gwenvael rested his hand on Briec’s shoulder. “Is that a smile your lady wears?”
“I think so. But I’m not all that sure. I’ve seen so few on her face.”
“It’s beautiful, though.”
“Aye,” Briec answered, his eyes devouring her on the spot. “That it is.”
She knew this was moments from getting horribly awkward. So she did the only thing she could think of. “Both of you are absolutely impossible. I’m leaving.”
She rushed out of the shop only to crash into Éibhear.
“There you are, Talaith. Come. I’ve found a bookseller.”
She barely managed a light squeal before the young dragon had her by the hand, and dragged her off across the square.
* * *
Eavan walked up to his commander. “You’re not going to believe who I saw being dragged across the town square.”
His commander turned one cold blue eye his way, the other lost in battle long ago, but said nothing. He was a man of few words.
“Our prize.”
“The dragon?”
“Nowhere to be seen. She has aligned herself with a knight. Perhaps more. But no one that’s a real threat to us.”
His commander grinned. “Seems riches and glory will be ours soon, my friend.”
Eavan returned his commander’s smile. Riches and glory. What he’d always wanted.
* * *
Briec snatched the dress from Gwenvael’s hands. “Stay away from her, Gwenvael. Especially her br**sts.”
“But they’re magnificent, brother.”
Gwenvael grinned and Briec debated ripping the bastard’s head off. Of course it could make for tense dinner conversation with his mother, though.
What annoyed him more than he wanted to admit was the fact Gwenvael had damn near more physical contact with that impossible female than he did.
Gwenvael shook his head. “Get out now, brother. Really. Give her gold for her trouble and leave her here.”
“No.” He couldn’t. No matter how much the rational side of him wanted to. She must have trapped him with, he was fairly convinced, a spell of some kind.
“You don’t understand, Briec. You won’t be getting rid of her anytime soon. You keep her now…you’ll keep her forever.”
Briec scoffed, “I have no intention of keeping that human harpy longer than absolutely necessary.”
Catching the eye of a shop girl, Gwenvael proceeded to follow after her but not before throwing over his shoulder, “If you think getting your c*ck inside that woman will end this—you’re dumber than Fearghus.”
Briec already knew that, too.
* * *
“I’m falling!”
“Oh.” Éibhear grabbed back half the books he’d piled in her arms. “Sorry.”
Talaith smiled, and Éibhear couldn’t help but envy his brother’s choice of female. He thought Talaith was amazing. So pretty and sweet, with a wonderful sense of humor. Even drunk she was adorable.
Of course, she was also hiding something. But, as always, Éibhear’s only concern was his family. As long as whatever her secret was didn’t involve his family, he’d leave his brother to it. But if any of his kin were in danger, he’d smite the beauty where she stood.
“It’s all right, Éibhear. But you do know I don’t need all these books.”
“You can never have enough books,” he quoted Annwyl.
“I see.” Talaith gave him that indulgent smile she seemed to hold just for him. He wondered if Briec realized how nurturing she was. She’d make a good mother one day.
The shopkeeper slipped into the back to find a book Éibhear had been searching for, leaving them alone in the small, book-filled shop. “You are going to stay? With Briec.”
She looked startled, then she looked resigned. “No, Éibhear. I will not.”
“Will not or can not?”
“Both.” She fidgeted and he realized how uncomfortable this conversation was making her.
“Besides,” she argued, “your brother only wants me for as long as he wants me. I’m sure he will bore of me soon. Especially, if…” Her voice faded out.
“Especially if he beds you?”
She winced and nodded curtly. “It seems males of any species are no different.”
He might agree with her if this were Gwenvael they spoke of. But Briec didn’t waste his time on…well…anything. He bored easily and had an arrogance rivaled only by their father. If he only wanted to bed a female, any female, he would have left Talaith outside of her little town when she asked him to rather than spend a moment longer trying to lure her to spread her legs. Briec’s determination to have this woman in his bed and life, however, told Éibhear that bedding Talaith a few times would not get her out of his system.
Still, beautiful as this woman was, she continued to remind Éibhear of a coiled snake ready to strike. As long as you left her alone, she’d leave you alone. But if you got too close…
“I’m starving,” he announced, unwilling to obsess over Talaith and her secrets too much.
She grinned. “When aren’t you starving?”
“I’m still a growing boy, you know. I’m barely even ninety winters old.”
She stared up at him, horrified. “Good gods, Éibhear, do you mean you’ll actually get…bigger?”
* * *
She didn’t even have to turn around to know he stood behind her.
“You watch me constantly,” she said over her shoulder as she continued to study the lovely jewelry the vendor sold. Silver remained her favorite because gold never looked very good against her skin color. Although she could never afford either.
“I want to make sure you don’t try to slash any of my other kin.”
“Your brother seems to have forgiven me about that.”
Briec stepped up beside her. “My brother will forgive any female anything as long as he can stare at her br**sts while doing it.”
“You’re too hard on him.”
“And you are like every other female that allows him much leeway.”
Frowning, Talaith looked up at him, but he would not face her. Instead he stared down at the jewelry as if considering each piece carefully. “I give your brother no leeway and never will.”
“I didn’t see you moving his hands away while he held that dress against you.”
“First off, you didn’t give me the chance. And second, you sound awfully jealous.”
“Me? Jealous?” Briec finally turned and faced her. “Of him?”
“Don’t yell at me,” she replied calmly. “And yes, you sound very jealous of your brother. Like it’s making you insane with rage.”
“Why you evil little—”
“You two argue,” Éibhear cut in, “while I starve to death.” His big hands rested on his lean hips. “If someone doesn’t feed me soon, I will get cranky.”
“Can this not wait until we’re done,” Briec snarled.
“No. You two argue constantly.” Éibhear grabbed her hand and Briec’s eyes narrowed at where their fingers touched. “Argue later. Feed me now.”
Without another word, Éibhear dragged her off yet again, this time toward the local inn.
Talaith glanced back at Briec and she immediately understood the look on his handsome face. His patience waned—greatly. No, Briec the Arrogant wouldn’t tolerate his brothers’ interference much longer. And thoughts of what he might do when that patience ran out had her knees nearly buckling.
* * *
Glendower, Son of Glewlwyd stumbled out of the Great Hall of Garbhán Isle castle and into the arms of Eryi, captain of the guards.
“Ho, Glendower!” the man laughed. “Too much drink, my old friend?”
Not bothering to answer, he turned in Eryi’s arms and grabbed the collar of the man’s chainmail shirt. He yanked him out of the way as flames burst from inside the Great Hall and out the door, nearly singeing them both on the spot.
The two men, now facedown in the dirt, looked up at each other.