Still, no one had told Fearghus about how Talaith came to join their little party, and so happy to have Annwyl back, he didn’t question it.
It won’t be fun when he finds out.
He would find out, too. He always did.
“You want to take a bit of a break, General?”
Brastias looked at Danelin. “What do you mean?”
“If you studied the guests any more, sir, you’d be forcing them to strip and bend over.”
Brastias chuckled. “That obvious, am I?”
“Aye, sir. Besides,” he motioned across the room, “there is someone I’m sure wouldn’t mind if you asked her for a dance.”
Following his second-in-command’s line of sight, his eyes settled on Morfyd. Tonight she didn’t wear her usual witch’s robes. Instead, she wore a sparkling white gown, cut low in the front, and her white hair curled and hanging loose around her shoulders and down her back, with white and silver flowers threaded throughout.
Definitely the most beautiful thing he’d seen in his entire existence.
“Go on, sir.” Danelin pushed Brastias with his shoulder and Brastias almost struck him down with his sword.
Instead, he gritted his teeth. “I’m going. I’m going. Don’t push.”
Taking a deep breath, Brastias moved across the floor toward Morfyd. Tonight he would ask her to dance. The worst she could say was “no”. But he would think positively for the moment. She’d say “yes” because he wanted her to say “yes”.
He stepped in front of her. “Lady Morfyd.”
She grinned. “Lady Morfyd? Isn’t that a bit formal between old friends?”
Friends? He didn’t want to be friends. In fact, he was tired of being friends.
“Well, that’s the thing—” But before he could finish a large hand slapped him on the back, almost sending him flying into Morfyd.
“Brastias, old friend.”
Scowling, Brastias turned and faced Gwenvael. Bundled up in a cape and furs, his face nearly hidden by the hood, he’d clearly only arrived. “I had no idea there was a party this eve. Good thing we washed before changing and coming here.”
Gwenvael, typically unaware of what he’d interrupted, pushed Brastias out of the way so he could kiss his sister on the cheek.
“You look lovely this evening, sister.”
Morfyd, always so self-contained and in complete control, practically fell over herself as she grabbed her brother’s arm. “Are you alone?” she demanded frantically.
Frowning, he said, “No. I’ve got Briec and Éibhear with me. Why?”
She bounced on her toes. “Where? Where are they?”
He pointed to a spot across the floor. Éibhear, happy and good natured as always. And Briec, looking as if he wished he were anywhere but here—as always. They both had the hoods of their capes up over their heads, nearly obscuring their faces. But Brastias knew them well enough to see who was who. And, based on past experience, Brastias knew as soon as Briec spoke to Fearghus, he’d leave. Now that he thought about it, Briec had only been there one time before. When he and his kin came to convince Annwyl to return to her mate after their year-long separation. Any other time the brothers met, it was at Dark Plains. Strange having him here now. The information they possessed must be extremely important for him to make the trip.
The music changed tempo to a fast jig and one of Iseabail’s Protectors lifted her up and swung her around the floor. She squealed excitedly as he passed her off to one of her other Protectors who passed her off to the next.
He admired those men. They’d taken good care of that girl for nine years. While they may go hungry, they made sure she ate. While their clothes and armor may need repair, her clothes were always clean and cared for. And from what he heard, woe to the man who came near her, much less hurt her. No, the lass couldn’t have been in better hands until she could return to her mother.
One of the Protectors reached into the crowd and dragged a shy and extremely embarrassed Talaith out to join the dance. At that moment, he heard Gwenvael gasp in surprise.
“But, wait…that’s…”
His sister gripped his arm tighter, causing him to wince in pain. “I know. I know!” The toe bouncing became decidedly worse. Morfyd’s one weakness—gossip.
Brastias turned back to watch Talaith. Although they didn’t lift her up like her daughter, the Protectors swung her once and passed her among each of them. She laughed even as her face turned dark red in embarrassment, knowing everyone watched her. Although some decidedly with more intensity than others.
Especially Briec. He stepped forward out of the crowd, staring so intently at her Brastias found himself holding his breath, waiting for Talaith to notice him.
She did…at the moment she slipped and slammed face first into his chest. Laughing, she gripped his arms and pushed herself away. Most likely with an apology on her lips as was her way. But when she looked into the face of the man—or, in this case, dragon—who held her, she froze.
Staring at each other, the pair stayed stuck to that particular spot. Until, finally, Briec spoke.
“You left me!”
No angry bark that. Nor a yell. Or even a shout. It was a roar. So much so, it shook the very foundation of the castle. The music stopped. The dancing stopped. Even Fearghus stood in surprise, dropping Annwyl on her ass since she’d been happily sitting in his lap at the time.
“Well?” Again that roar.
Recovering quickly and clearly livid, Talaith snatched her arms away from Briec’s grasp. “Don’t you dare yell at me!
“No word from you. You just left!”
“I had a previous engagement that didn’t involve you!”
She turned away, but Briec took firm hold of her arm. “So you say nothing? You simply sneak out?”
“Why don’t you just say what you mean? It isn’t that I left that bothers you. It’s that I left you. The wondrous Briec the Arrogant. Left by some peasant no less.” She snatched her arm back. “How humiliating for you,” she sneered with enough venom to wipe out a small town.
“You seem to forget, m’lady…you belong to me.”
Fairly growling, “I belong to no one. Especially you.”
Pitch black smoke snaked from Briec’s nostrils and then his brothers were there. Fearghus took firm hold of the back of his neck. “Let’s go somewhere and talk, brother.”
“We’re not done,” he snarled, his eyes never leaving Talaith’s face.
“Oh, we are,” Fearghus insisted, pushing Briec toward the great doors; Gwenvael and Éibhear following their kin out.
Annwyl motioned to the musicians to begin playing. Then she crooked her finger at Talaith and Morfyd.
Watching Morfyd and Talaith disappear with Annwyl, Brastias sighed heavily.
Will I ever get a moment alone with that woman?
* * *
They walked past the gates of the castle, stopping when they finally hit the forest, and that’s when Briec punched Fearghus’ hand off his neck. The last thing he wanted right now was for anyone to touch him.
“You need to calm down, brother,” Fearghus warned softly.
“And you need to go to hell.”
Éibhear, always the peacemaker, stepped between the two. “Everyone calm down. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to all this. Right, Fearghus?”
Fearghus, ever the “calm one” stared at their baby brother as if he were simple. “How the hell would I know that? I don’t know what’s going on.”
Gwenvael leaned against a tree, looking smug. Briec wanted to rip his face off. “Brother has Claimed a woman.”
“Talaith?” Fearghus asked, confused. “The human?”
“I didn’t Claim her.”
Gwenvael crouched beside the tree, picking up blades of grass and ripping them with the tips of his fingers. “You certainly are acting like you did.”
The bastard was right. But he couldn’t help it. He’d walked into his brother’s hall expecting to give him news and go. He’d been in no mood for a party, so he’d had no intention of staying. But there she’d been. Right in front of him—in another man’s arms. Several other men, in fact, dancing her around the floor. She wore a dark blue velvet dress clearly fitted to her frame. Her black, curly hair threaded through with flowers the same color of her gown. She looked so beautiful. She looked…happy, like she didn’t have a care in the world. All the time they’d spent together, she’d never looked that relaxed except when she slept in his arms.
What did he do wrong that some other male did right?
Fearghus crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Who is she anyway?”
“Don’t you know?” Didn’t seem like his brother not to know who’d come into his den.
“I’ve asked Annwyl about her, but suddenly the most direct female I’ve ever known turns surprisingly vague. As does Morfyd. And I haven’t had much time to get any details.” Most likely because Fearghus had been busy f**king Annwyl blind.
“Briec found her in a little village outside of Madron.” Éibhear pulled the hood of his cape back. “He took her.”
“I rescued her. Get it right at least.”
“Why did she leave you?”
“Do you think I know that? Do you think I have any idea why I woke up and found her gone?”
“Perhaps she had another man all along.” True, he could kill Gwenvael, but their mother would never forgive him. “Perhaps she left simply to get back to him and she merely waited until you trusted her enough.”
“She left for no man,” a female voice said from the safety of the trees. “She left for me.”
Gwenvael grinned. “This just got interesting.”
“I will kill you where you stand, brother.”
“Don’t yell at me because your woman…has a woman.”
“I want you two to stop this conversation right now,” Fearghus ordered softly. “I mean it.”
The trees rustled a bit and a tall, but extremely young, brown-skinned girl stepped forward. Even in the dark night, the nearly full moon blocked by the forest trees, Briec could still see the girl clearly. He sucked in a startled breath.
“By the gods…”
Fearghus motioned to the girl. “It’s all right, Izzy. They’re harmless.” The girl moved closer and Fearghus introduced her. “You degenerate lot, this is Iseabail…Daughter of Talaith.”
How could she not be? She looked exactly like her. Except her eyes were a much lighter brown as was her hair and she was a good bit taller. Other than that, they were mother and daughter.
“She never told me of a daughter.”
Gwenvael snorted. “I see you built up a wonderful level of trust there, brother.”
“That’s not fair,” the girl snapped. She looked at Briec. “She couldn’t tell you. She really couldn’t tell you.”
“Why?”
She moved closer and Briec saw exactly how young she was. “She was protecting me. And, to a degree, herself. She would have hurt her if she told you anything.”