Finally she pulled away from him, lowering her blade to her side.
Talaith turned and took several steps away, when she heard the pair arguing in hushed whispers.
“See what you got me into? I’m never helping you again, brat.”
“I should have let my mother skewer you.”
Without looking at them, she snapped. “You two stop that. Right this minute.”
They both stopped.
She motioned to the stairs with her head. “Iseabail get up to your room and take a bath. I’ll be up in a few minutes to discuss why you left the safety of this castle in the middle of the night.”
“But, I—”
“Move!”
Giving one last glare to Éibhear, her daughter stormed off, brushing past a slow-moving Annwyl who practically crawled down the stairs.
Somehow the warrior queen managed to dress in what Talaith now knew to be Annwyl’s everyday wear as opposed to her battle wear—sleeveless chainmail shirt, leather leggings and leather boots.
“Morfyd,” she whined.
“It’s all right, Annwyl.” Morfyd’s voice sounded tight and angry, but clearly she decided not to push a confrontation. Good plan. Talaith may not be dragon, but at the moment she could kill anything mortal.
As Annwyl slowly made her way to the dining table, Morfyd quickly mixed up another chalice full of her brew, using her finger to stir all the ingredients. A servant passed her when she was done, so she handed it to him and motioned to Annwyl.
Annwyl took it, but before drinking said, “Well, I know I like finger with my wine.”
“Drink it, you whiny cow.”
“Someone’s in a bad mood.” Annwyl swigged the wine back with one gulp, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She dropped the chalice to the table. “How long before this works?”
“Couple of minutes.”
“Good.” Using both hands, Annwyl leaned against the dining table.
But it seemed fate played against Annwyl this beautiful morning as one of her soldiers stepped into the Great Hall. “Annwyl, we need you.”
Annwyl sighed and, even though the drink most likely had not worked yet, somehow forced herself to straighten up and walk toward her soldier. Talaith guessed it wouldn’t do for the queen to be indisposed because her mate f**ked her silly the night before.
Talaith admitted the woman had some mighty strength, though. Where Talaith cried and simpered like a babe, Annwyl simply pretended it never happened. Better woman than me.
Annwyl slid past Morfyd and Talaith who’d kept their backs to each other.
But as soon as Annwyl passed the women, they both knew. Startled, they turned and looked at each other, their moment of anger quickly forgotten. They watched Annwyl make her faulty way toward the archway. Once she got there, she suddenly grabbed the wood molding and doubled over.
Morfyd and Talaith ran to her side, but by then she was throwing back up everything she’d drunk. Not surprising. Talaith saw the kind of herbs Morfyd had in that drink. Ones that, among many other things, would prevent a woman from becoming with child.
Too late for that.
Morfyd took hold of one arm while Talaith grabbed the other. Morfyd motioned to the soldier. “Find Brastias or Danelin. They must help you. The queen is ill.”
The young soldier nodded and ran off while the two women dragged Annwyl back into the castle.
They sat her down at the dining table and Morfyd crouched in front of her. “Annwyl? Can you hear me?”
Annwyl frowned at the witch. “Of course I can hear you. Gods, Morfyd, I’m only sick from last night’s antics. And you can blame your virile brother for that. So stop looking as if I’m at death’s door. I already feel better.”
Morfyd rubbed her eyes with two fingers. “All night, Annwyl? You were with him all night?”
Annwyl’s frown deepened. “Of course, I was. Where else would I be? Besides,” she muttered softly, “he wouldn’t let me go.”
She looked between the two women. “All right, witches. Fess up. What’s going on? Why do you both look like that?”
Morfyd took Annwyl’s hands within her own. It seemed a caring gesture, but Talaith guessed it was because Morfyd wanted to control where those hands went when Annwyl found out the truth.
“Sister—”
“Spit it out, Morfyd. I grow more annoyed by the second.”
“Fine. There’s something you should know.”
“Which is?”
“Annwyl…you are with child.”
Annwyl snorted. “Of course I am. I lay eggs in two days time.” She chuckled at her own joke until she realized the two witches weren’t laughing. She glanced between them. “You’re wrong, of course.”
“No, sister. I’m not. You’re with child.”
Pulling her hands back, “So what are you saying? That I betrayed your brother? That I was with another? Because that never happened.”
“I know. Yesterday you weren’t with child. And today, after the entire night with Fearghus, you are.”
“You said humans and dragons could not breed. You said it was impossible.”
“And, normally, it is.”
“Normally?”
Morfyd shrugged. “The gods sometimes change their minds.”
The two witches barely moved in time, Talaith finally having the chance to experience the full extent of Annwyl’s rage as it exploded around them.
* * *
Briec sat on the end of his bed. Freshly bathed and dressed, he held his head in his hands.
By the dark gods of fire, what had he done last night? What had he done to Talaith? Would she ever forgive him? Could he ever forgive himself?
He wasn’t surprised when his door slowly opened and Fearghus stood in the doorway. His black hair hid half his face and he could barely meet Briec’s eyes.
Fearghus shook his head. “So this is shame, brother?”
“Aye…and I like it even less than heartbreak.”
Éibhear appeared beside Fearghus.
“Your woman is insane.”
Fearghus frowned. “Annwyl?”
“Not your woman. His woman. She almost cut my throat.”
Briec’s eyes narrowed. He felt more protective of her now than ever before. Of course, before he hadn’t taken her like an animal from night until well into the morn. “Why? What did you do?”
“I protected her daughter.”
Fearghus groaned. “Oh, gods…Izzy. Tell me she wasn’t here last night.”
“She wasn’t. I found her off playing with my sword.”
Fearghus finally laughed while Briec’s eye twitched. “What the hell does that mean?”
“She stole the blade Annwyl gave me. I found her training with it. Her words, mind you. I’m surprised she didn’t cut her own throat.”
Briec let out a breath. The thought of even one of his kin taking advantage of his woman’s daughter made him feel like Bercelak when it came to Keita and Morfyd. More than one dragon had lost his wing to Bercelak’s protective nature. And humans…well, Bercelak the Great had enjoyed many good meals made of his daughters’ human suitors.
“But before I could explain what happened, your woman put a blade to my throat. And I didn’t appreciate it.”
“My heart bleeds.”
“And how’s Annwyl?” Fearghus asked softly.
“Crawling. Gods, what did you do to her last night?”
Fearghus slammed his head against the doorframe. “She’s going to hate me.”
“Don’t worry, Fearghus. We’ll live together, bitter and alone. Like the Doane brothers,” Briec feebly joked.
Glaring at Briec, Fearghus snarled, “Never say that to me again.” No one wanted to end up like those two bitter old dragons.
“Well, I’m going to bed,” Éibhear sighed. “It was a long night putting up with that evil little cow.”
“Watch what you say about my—” Briec stopped speaking but his brothers were quicker than they usually acted.
Fearghus grinned, enjoying the demise of Briec’s less than loyal ways when it came to females. “Gods, brother. Were you about to call her your daughter?”
“What if I was?”
“Come on, Briec,” Éibhear begged. “You can’t make that annoying harpy part of this family. Don’t I suffer enough with you lot?”
“Too late, brother. I Claimed Talaith last night.”
“That was fast work. How did you get her to agree?”
When Briec looked at the floor his brothers laughed incredulously. “You Claimed her without her permission?” Fearghus demanded. “Have you lost your mind?”
“And she’s mean, brother. I didn’t realize how mean until she threatened to take my balls. I felt like Gwenvael.”
“Don’t make me feel worse than I already do.”
“What do you think she’ll do when she realizes what it means?”
“Kill me.” If he were lucky. Leave him, if he weren’t.
“Give her time, Briec. I’m sure she’ll come around.” Fearghus stood up straight, tossing his hair off his face. “Well, I best go find my woman. Make sure she hasn’t—”
The roar rang through the castle, cutting off Fearghus’ words and startling the three brothers.
They knew that sound. Annwyl’s war cry. They’d all heard it more than once since knowing her. But with Hamish’s armies nowhere near Dark Plains…
As one, they moved. Out of Talaith’s bedchamber, down the hallway, and down the stairs to the Great Hall where they all stopped by that last step. They stopped and stared.
Morfyd stood beside the archway leading outside. She looked torn between bolting for her life and shifting right there, taking the castle and its contents with her.
Briec’s eyes quickly searched for Talaith. He found her. She crouched on top of one of the dragon statues that littered the hall, her blade held firmly in her right hand. He had no idea how she got up there, but he was grateful.
Slowly, Fearghus moved toward Annwyl. Brave dragon his brother, since she’d just picked up one of the dining tables made of solid wood and threw it against the wall as if it weighed no more than a twig.
“Annwyl?”
“Stay away from me, Fearghus.” She sounded reasonably calm. That couldn’t be good.
“Annwyl, talk to me.”
Roaring, the crazed warrior kicked the chair at her feet up, grasping it in midair with her hands. Then she turned and let it fly. Fearghus calmly stepped out of its way while Briec and Éibhear dived for cover.
“Calm down.”
“Go to hell.”
Briec found it fascinating how calmly the couple spoke to each other, although the rage coming off both practically washed the rest of them from the room.
“Someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?” Fearghus asked the entire room.
Green eyes flickered to Morfyd. “Tell him, witch. Tell him what you told me.”
Morfyd, not moving away from her one chance at freedom, looked at her older brother. “Annwyl is with child.” Fearghus’ eyes narrowed at the implication of that statement and Annwyl snorted. Morfyd held up her hand before either could say anything. “I believe it’s yours.”