“Who would have?”
“Arzhela.”
Gwenvael stood. “The goddess?”
She nodded. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s not like we had any plans this eve,” Éibhear teased. Iseabail smiled but her eyes grew wide as the moonlight suddenly peeked out and spilled across Éibhear.
“Is your hair blue?”
“Uh…”
“Can I braid it?”
“No!”
“Izzy.” Fearghus easily drew her attention back to him. “Focus, girl.”
She sighed. “Do you really want me to tell you?” The dragons nodded. “You won’t like it.” Her light eyes flickered to Fearghus. “You especially won’t like it.”
“Why especially me?”
“Because it was your mate she was sent to kill.”
* * *
“You…and Briec?”
“That’s the eighth time you’ve said that.”
“But it’s just…” Annwyl stared at her with her mouth open. “You…and Briec?”
Talaith, shaking her head, stalked over to the window of Annwyl’s bedroom. It had to be the most enormous bedroom she’d ever seen. Obviously it took much to get Fearghus the Destroyer to spend time at Garbhán Isle.
“Well, what’s he like?”
“Don’t you know? He is your family.” Plainly there was much more to Briec than she knew. She thought Morfyd, Fearghus and Briec were merely all dragons. The same breed. It never occurred to her they were all family. Kin, as Briec would say.
Annwyl laughed. “You must be joking. He hates me.”
“You did hit him,” Morfyd chastised.
“He was in my way.”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“Close enough.”
Talaith buried her face in her hands. “This is a nightmare.” She turned accusing eyes on Morfyd. “You said he never comes here!”
“Normally, he doesn’t. And don’t yell at me.”
“So you hate him?”
Affronted, Talaith whirled on Annwyl. “I do not hate him.”
Confused, Annwyl scratched her head. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Everything.”
“Why are you making this so complicated, Talaith? If you still want him, be with him.”
“I can’t. I have to think of Izzy.”
“Exactly how much longer are you going to use her as your excuse?”
Talaith turned away from the window to face Morfyd. “Pardon?”
“She’s sixteen winters, Talaith. Soon she’ll be trying to figure out what she wants to do. Maybe help here or she’ll meet someone and want to start a family. Let’s face it, even with her Nolwenn blood, she’ll never be a witch. She has absolutely no powers.”
“That’s my fault,” Talaith sighed. “There were spells I should have cast. Sacrifices I should have made.”
“Haven’t you sacrificed enough?” Annwyl asked, silencing Talaith.
“Well,” Morfyd continued, “she doesn’t seem to miss it, so I wouldn’t concern myself too much. But you can’t build your life around hers because she’ll be starting her own life soon. Then what will you do? Stay here and be lonely? Perhaps become the wife of one of the knights? Is that what you really want?”
What she wanted was Briec. She’d always want Briec.
“Briec is not an option.”
“Why not?”
She glared at Morfyd. “Because he made it clear I was only temporary. Something to pass his time with.”
Annwyl threw herself into a large, winged-back chair. “He didn’t act like you were temporary. He acted like you broke his heart.”
Talaith shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
“He looked like you ripped his heart out of his chest, threw it to the ground, and stomped all over it while singing a jaunty tune.” Annwyl shrugged at Morfyd’s bemused expression. “I might have seen that look before on his brother.”
“Perhaps when you stabbed our father?”
Annwyl laughed. “No. Then he just looked proud.”
“He’ll never understand,” Talaith sighed out. “He’ll hate me for what I was sent to do to you.”
“I’m fairly certain he honestly won’t care. The only one who’ll care is Fearghus. And I have no intention of telling him anything, so—”
The three females jumped, Annwyl’s words cut off, as Fearghus kicked the door in.
Annwyl stood. “What the hell is wrong with—”
“Everyone out! Now!”
Morfyd didn’t hesitate. “Night, all.” Then she was out the damaged door like a lightning strike.
Talaith could guess what Fearghus now knew and she wasn’t about to stand there waiting for him to focus his rage on her. With a nod to both, she hurried past them and out the door. But as soon as she stepped into the hallway, Briec took her arm and dragged her off. The last thing she saw was her daughter—good gods, what could she have told them?—waving at her with one hand while making a grab for Éibhear’s blue hair with the other. Startled, Éibhear slapped her daughter’s hand away before practically running down the hall.
Then Briec pushed open a door and shoved her into a bedroom. By the time she turned around, he’d locked the door and thrown the key into the fire blazing in the small pit built into the wall.
Bastard.
Chapter Twenty
“You open that door right now.” She wasn’t going to panic. She wouldn’t allow him to make her panic.
“Not until we talk.”
Talk? Ack! Panic! “Talk? About what?”
“About why you left me. About your daughter. And about all these…these…”
“These what?”
“Feelings! I never had them before until you. And now I’ve got them. What exactly did you do to me, little witch?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything to you. I told you to let me go.”
“And because I didn’t let you go, you hexed me with these feelings?” He said his accusation like she’d gutted him while he slept.
“I didn’t hex you with anything, you idiot.” She walked to the large window and stared out over the now-deserted courtyard. One look at the dragon lord’s face must have sent all scurrying for cover from his rage—even his family.
“Then why do I feel like this?”
“Feel like what,” she asked absently.
“Like you ripped my heart out, threw it to the ground, and stomped all over it while singing?”
Eyes wide, Talaith turned to face Briec. “What?”
“My chest hurts. It’s never hurt before—until you. Make it stop,” he begged. “I can’t stand it.”
Unable to form words, much less coherent thoughts, Talaith slid down the wall, sitting hard on the floor.
She closed her eyes, fighting her desire to sob. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Briec. I swear.” She pulled her legs up tight and dropped her head onto her raised knees. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just wanted my daughter back.” Finally, tears flowed. “I had to get her back.”
After a painfully long silence, Briec sat on the floor beside her. She had the castle wall at her side and back, and Briec on her other side. She should feel trapped, smothered, but she didn’t. Not with him.
“Your daughter is beautiful,” he said softly. “Just like her mother.”
Wiping her tears, desperate not to look as pathetic as she felt, she asked, “What did she tell you?” Knowing Izzy as well as she did now, probably everything.
“Everything.”
“Of course, she did.” After several shaky deep breaths, Talaith once again had control. “So I guess you feel pity for me now.” Which would explain why he was suddenly being so nice. “The poor peasant used by a goddess.”
“Maybe I should feel sorry for you, but I don’t. You’re too much of a pain in the ass to be pitied.”
Against her desire to feel morbidly depressed, Talaith chuckled. “That’s very kind of you.”
Briec moved a bit, and the material of his wool cape rubbed against her arm. “Why didn’t you trust me, Talaith?”
“It had nothing to do with trust. Whether I trusted you or not, I couldn’t risk Izzy.” And she couldn’t risk him. Although Arzhela may not have been able to use her Magicks on Briec, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t send men to kill him. To sneak into his lair and destroy him while he slept. “I wasn’t willing to risk anyone I cared about.”
“Am I someone you care about?”
Talaith didn’t answer. She didn’t dare.
Briec rested his head on her shoulder, his silky hair rubbing against her neck and jaw. “Answer me, Talaith.” She didn’t. Instead, she turned her head away from his.
“Then tell me to go.”
“And you would?”
“If that’s what you want. But you have to say the words, Talaith.” His gloved hand slid over her leg, resting on her knee. “Tell me to go.”
Say the words, Talaith. Say them before he breaks your heart. But the words…she couldn’t force them out. And she tried. She really did. But it felt so good having him by her side again. She’d missed him so much. Annoying, rude, bastard dragon that he was.
When she said nothing, Briec let out a barely audible sigh. Briec the Arrogant had actually been worried she’d send him away. Well, that felt nice.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
Talaith cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
“And your daughter is very brave. Just like her mother.”
“Brave? Is that what they call it? Or blindingly stupid?”
“Brave seems much more fitting.” Briec turned his head, his lips brushing her bare shoulder where her dress tugged down a bit. “I missed you, Talaith. And I don’t like that feeling. I hate it when I’m miserable.”
Giggling—to her horror—Talaith pulled back to look in Briec’s face. “Oh, no. You being unhappy. Can’t have that, now can we?”
“You’re right. We can’t,” he responded in serious tones. “An unhappy Briec is an unhappy universe.”
The giggling became decidedly worse, because she knew Briec was actually serious.
“You think it’s funny? My misery?”
“You needed to be a little miserable. To know how the rest of us feel most days.”
He shuddered. “The nightmare of being human.” Sitting up straight, he adjusted his body so that he faced her side, his powerful legs on either side of her body. Then, he began slowly removing the flowers threaded through her hair. She let him. It felt nice.
“So you’re a trained assassin.”
She bet other people at this moment weren’t having this odd a conversation. “Um, yes.”
“Are you good at it? When you actually try to kill your prey as opposed to taunting them into killing you?”