When Annwyl’s brother reigned, Garbhán Isles was a place of horror. Those taken there, not of royal blood, never heard from again.
It didn’t look that way now. The castle itself was bright white with silver accents all around the moldings. The grounds of the courtyard were clean, with flowers and trees planted all around the outer edge.
Annwyl pulled her steed to a halt inside the courtyard. Frowning, she looked around. Talaith couldn’t tell if she found something to cause her displeasure or if she searched for something.
Shaking her head and sighing, Annwyl dismounted. “Talaith, I sent my squire ahead yesterday and had rooms made ready for you, Izzy and her Protectors.”
Surprised, Talaith and the men glanced at each other. Achaius, as always, spoke for all three men. “Quee—” At Morfyd’s quick head shake, he corrected himself, “M’lady, stables will work well enough for the likes of us.”
Annwyl snorted. It seemed to be her version of a laugh. “That’s unacceptable, gentlemen. You’ll all have your own rooms and fresh clothes.” She turned and faced Achaius and the others. “You’ve done your duty, men. And you’ve done it well. You deserve peace and quiet now.”
She pulled her saddlebags off her horse. “Besides, I need loyal men like you by my side, if you’re interested.” Stuttering, Achaius tried to answer but Annwyl cut him off by holding her hand up. “You don’t have to answer me now. I don’t know what you men left behind. But if you’d like to stay, there will be a place for you here. If not, you will not leave empty handed.”
Too stunned to say anything further, the Protectors dismounted their horses and began to unpack them.
Annwyl looked at Talaith. “And as for you two—”
“Annwyl, I—”
“I’m sorry. Was I done speaking?”
Talaith sighed in mock exasperation while Morfyd chuckled.
“No, my liege. Please. Go on.”
Not bothering to hold back her smile, Annwyl continued. “I want you both to stay here, under my protection, until you know what you want to do.”
“I was thinking,” Izzy volunteered, “that maybe I could—”
Annwyl placed her hand over Izzy’s mouth and kept right on talking to Talaith. “There’s no rush, Talaith. Take as much time as you need.”
“Thank you, Annwyl. I really do appreciate that.” She did, too, because she really had no idea what she would do. She and Izzy had their whole lives ahead of them. For once, Talaith felt hope rather than despair. It was a new and heady feeling Talaith was simply unused to.
“Now, Iseabail the Dangerous,” Annwyl took her hand away from Izzy’s mouth, “you were saying?”
But Izzy was no longer looking at Annwyl and for once she had nothing to say.
“Izzy?”
The loud sound of a big hand making contact with Annwyl’s chainmail-covered ass startled both women away from Izzy’s captivated face.
“And where the hell have you been?”
Annwyl turned, her gaze moving up and up and up some more into the handsome face of an absolute bear of a man. “Where have I been?” she snapped back. And Talaith wondered if Annwyl had lost all reason, challenging this man. Then she remembered Annwyl had lost her reason long ago. “I’ve been securing our lands. That’s where I’ve been.”
One very dark eyebrow raised over even darker eyes, a smirk on the handsome man’s face. “You were supposed to be back weeks ago.”
“Sorry if the war isn’t running to your timetable, lord.”
“I see,” he said, a lock of coal-black hair slipping from under the hood of his cape and across his eyes. “Someone’s begging for me to—”
“All right then,” Morfyd cut in, taking firm hold of Izzy’s shoulders and pushing her in the direction of the Protectors. The girl went, but her eyes stayed glued on what Talaith could only assume was Annwyl’s husband.
Looking back at the huge man, Morfyd shook her head. “Hello, Fearghus.”
Without turning away from Annwyl’s face, the man motioned at the witch. “Morfyd.”
Morfyd crooked a finger at Talaith. “Come, sister. Let’s get you settled. I fear you and I are much too young for such a display.”
The couple hadn’t moved any closer to each other, but they didn’t need to be any closer. The way they stared at each other was enough to make anyone feel like intruders.
“No need. We’re leaving.”
Annwyl grinned at Fearghus’ words. “Oh? Are we?”
“Aye.” He took firm hold of Annwyl’s hand. “To Dark Glen with you, wench.”
Morfyd turned. “Fearghus, wait. There is much to discuss.”
“Later, sister.”
“Much later,” Annwyl added with a very girlish giggle, Fearghus dragging her behind him.
Morfyd sighed in exasperation and walked toward the castle steps, leading Achaius, Izzy and the other men into the building and to their rooms.
But Talaith didn’t follow; too busy staring at the retreating form of Annwyl’s husband. Fearghus. The way he moved seemed familiar. Extremely familiar. She watched him until the couple disappeared around the corner of the castle.
“No. No,” she muttered to herself. If she kept this up, she’d see Briec everywhere. In every man she met until the end of her days. She couldn’t live like that.
No. Fearghus was merely a very large man. Perhaps a tad unnaturally large but a mother could achieve that with the proper spells and sacrifices. Besides, that behemoth was what someone like Annwyl needed.
Exactly someone like Annwyl would need.
Convinced she was right, Talaith let out a deep sigh of relief, only to choke on it as a black horned head appeared from around the corner Annwyl and Fearghus had only moments before disappeared behind. Long, long black hair brushed the ground. So as not to damage the surrounding buildings, he kept his black wings tucked tight against his body. His dragon body. And on that dragon sat an extremely happy and content Annwyl.
Panic and excitement vying for possession of her lungs, Talaith watched silently as Fearghus—and she knew it was Fearghus—took to the air. Her eyes tracked the couple—and they were a couple—until they passed another dragon.
“No, no, no. This isn’t happening.” Stepping away from her horse, Talaith stared up at the sky. There were so many! Dragons of every color flew above her. Some sat patiently on the silver-tipped spires of the castle chatting with other dragons flying around them.
From a distance, she hadn’t seen the dragons because they didn’t want to be. Most likely for defense of Garbhán Isle.
Placing her hand over her chest, she realized that yes, her heart did just stop in her chest. Didn’t she actually need that to beat? “This can’t be happening.”
Talaith needed answers. And she needed them now. She sprinted into the castle, pushing past soldiers and guards, through the Great Hall where they were already setting up for the evening’s feast, and up the stone steps. She found Morfyd and the others on the second floor.
“Oh, Talaith. Good. This will be your room.”
“Good.” Talaith grabbed Morfyd’s arm and shoved her into the bedroom. “Give us a moment, Iseabail,” she said to her daughter’s surprised face before slamming the door shut.
“What’s wrong with—”
“Fearghus just flew away.”
“Oh.” And she watched Morfyd try to hide that smile. Conniving, betraying bitch!
“That’s all you have to say?”
“Don’t yell at me, witch,” Morfyd snapped back.
“What do you expect me to do? You lied to me.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“You saw everything, Morfyd. You were in my mind. Uninvited if you remember. You knew about Briec.”
That damn smirk returned. “Aye. I did.”
“Then how could you not tell me?”
Morfyd’s eyes narrowed. “There’s that yelling again.”
Talaith’s eyes closed as she realized something. “Fearghus called you ‘sister’.” And not like witches called each other “sister”. But as annoyed siblings.
“Aye.”
Which means…
Talaith headed back toward the door. “We’re leaving.” She’d take her daughter and go. She couldn’t stay here. Not now.
She had her hand on the metal door handle when Morfyd’s voice stopped her. “And where will you go, Talaith, Daughter of Haldane? Where will you take Izzy and think you will be safe? Annwyl seems to think it’s over, but we both know it won’t be over. Not until Arzhela is somehow dealt with.”
Morfyd now stood next to her. “But you’ll be safe here. Under my protection and the protection of my people. If you run now—”
“I’ll run forever,” Talaith finished for her.
“You both will. And hasn’t Izzy run enough?”
Talaith laid her head against the door. “But Briec—”
“Briec never comes here.” Morfyd stroked Talaith’s hair from her face. No one but Briec had ever touched her merely out of kindness. “He hates this castle. Detests Annwyl. And barely tolerates the rest of us. The farthest he’ll go is Dark Plains. Fearghus’ den. He won’t be here. And, if you wish, I won’t tell him you’re here. If that’s truly what you wish.”
She didn’t hesitate. “No. I don’t want him to know I’m here.” She’d worked hard the last few days to push him from her mind and her heart. To let him back in now would only lead to her broken heart when he was finally done with her.
“Then I’ll never tell him.”
Talaith, suddenly drained beyond all reckoning, pulled her door open. “Thank you, Morfyd.”
The one she now knew to be one of the rare dragonwitches her mother and the sisterhood spoke of in reverent tones—when they spoke of few beings that way—nodded and walked out. Talaith could hear her showing the men their rooms. But Izzy stepped in before she could close the door.
“Is everything all right?”
Talaith nodded, fairly dragging herself across the room to the big bed in the middle of it. She dropped back on it, ignoring her dirty, travel-worn clothes. “Everything’s fine, Izzy.”
The door closed, but Talaith knew Izzy hadn’t left. The bed dipped as Izzy stretched out beside her.
“I talk too much, don’t I?”
Talaith, grateful for the distraction, laughed. “We both do, I think.”
“Were you disappointed when you finally met me?”
Talaith turned on her side, propping her head up with her hand. “Of course not.” She reached out and took gentle hold of Izzy’s hair, running her fingers through the wavy, light brown strands. Her daughter never let her soft hair get too long. It barely touched her shoulders and already she complained it was getting “unruly”.
“You remind me so much of your father.”
“Is that good or bad?”