“Apparently he’s not listening.”
“He will if I snap his neck.”
“But then we’ll never hear the end of it from Mum.”
Briec found Talaith outside, past the Garbhán Isle gates. She sat on a boulder and stared up at the sky. The moon wasn’t yet full, but it still surrounded her in a soft glow.
“There you are. I was looking for you.”
“Everything all right?” she asked, still staring up at the sky.
“Well, let’s see … My brilliant and beautiful sister is suddenly in love with some lowly human. Keita isn’t speaking to anyone. Annwyl is convinced her daughter hates her while Fearghus is convinced his son is plotting to kill him while he sleeps. I found my mother and father acting like animals in the war room—yet again. But that pales in comparison to finding my father—a dragon considered one of the greatest warriors of our time, mind you—telling his grandchildren, ‘Goo, goo, gaa, gaa,’ when he thought no one was looking. And to top the evening off, Gwenvael has Claimed Dagmar as his own for eternity by marking her ass, which he keeps slapping periodically as the night goes on.”
Talaith’s head fell forward as she laughed hysterically.
“She is brilliantly livid, if I do say so myself. And if I were him, I’d be afraid to go to sleep tonight,” Briec continued.
“Your family is amazing.”
“That’s a nice way of putting it.”
Briec sat behind her, pulling her in between his legs until she could rest her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying that there was just enough room for the both of them.
“Don’t you want to come inside and dance with me for a bit?”
“I will. Soon.”
Leaning in close, he pressed his lips to her throat. As she often did, Talaith moved her head to the side, allowing him better access. He gently nipped her skin, working his way down to her shoulder, while his hands slid down her arms. His brutal lust for her always surprised him. He’d thought it would wane over time, but it had grown steadily day by day as she had grown and changed over time, becoming more confident and comfortable in her new life.
He slid his hands down her arms and onto her thighs. She had such delightfully strong thighs, he always enjoyed running his hands over them, dragging his fingers up under her gown so he could touch her smooth skin. He brushed against the leather ties that held her sheathed dagger, his c*ck hardening more knowing it was there, knowing that when he took her again tonight—as he’d done for most of the afternoon—it would still be there in easy reach, making her even more deliciously dangerous.
Briec continued to travel up her thighs, but when her hands grabbed his, he let her have control, wanting to see what she’d do.
Talaith drew his hands up farther, close to her sex. But she didn’t stop there, she kept moving until she reached her stomach. She pressed his hands against her belly, sighing contentedly when he smoothed his fingers across it.
He adored how soft her skin was. How her entire body reacted to his merest touch. How … how …
Gods.
Briec pulled away from Talaith’s neck and looked down at her. Her smile was soft and content, her eyes dreamy.
It had been years since Briec had studied the ways of a Dragonmage, but he still had some skills. And that’s why she’d told him like this, knowing he’d understand without her having to say a word.
Emotions he’d never felt before ripped through him, making him feel slightly drunk and extremely panicked. He knew there were all sorts of things a dragon would say to a dragoness at a time like this, but Talaith was no dragoness. And that’s what worried him.
“I can’t lose you,” he said simply.
Her brown gaze turned to him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“What Annwyl went through. If Eirianwen hadn’t stepped in, brought her back, Fearghus would have lost her. I can’t lose you. I won’t. You mean everything to me, Talaith.”
“Sssh.” She turned in his arms, rising up on her knees, her hands framing his face. “It’ll be all right.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I know. This isn’t Rhydderch Hael using my body for his experiments as he did with Annwyl. This is different. I’m different. I have strength Annwyl doesn’t have. Powers that will protect me, and are already moving into place to protect the child. Our child.”
“Are you sure? I won’t allow myself to be miserable, Lady Difficult.”
“Because it’s all about you, Lord Arrogant.” Her grin was wide and bright. She wanted this child. “Trust me. I’ll not say I won’t be as happy or as miserable as any other woman full with child, but what happened to Annwyl won’t happen to me. The hard part is over now. The walls have been broken, gods of every type and pantheon roam through the worlds freely, and what was once unthinkable … will one day be quite common.”
“I don’t care about one day. I care about you.”
“I know.” She kissed him, her mouth soft against his. “Your love and faith in me is why I know I’ll be fine. That we’ll be fine.”
“And what of Izzy?”
“We tell her nothing.”
He pulled back, startled. “Talaith.”
“You know what she’ll do if we tell her.” Yes. Briec knew. He knew his daughter would change her plans to leave with the Eighteenth Legion because she’d fear leaving her mother’s side. She’d want to be here for Talaith, even if it meant giving up what she wanted. “I won’t have that hanging over my head, Briec, or have her resent me because of it. She’ll learn about all this soon enough, just not yet.”
“If you’re sure.”
She sighed, frustrated, and leaned back. “Must you question me?” she suddenly barked, irrationally annoyed in his opinion.
“I’ll question you if I want! And is this how it’s going to be from now until you are blessed with having my offspring? One moody-cow moment after another?”
“Oh, trust well, Lord Arrogant, that I plan on making your life a living hell.”
“Who says you don’t already?”
“I haven’t even begun!”
“Uncaring wench!”
Difficult bastard!“
Then they were kissing, their mouths fused, their tongues teasing and stroking while they ripped each other’s clothes off.
And that’s how Briec knew Talaith spoke true—everything would be just fine.
* * *
Dagmar slammed a small jar of ointment on the desk and bent over it, giving Gwenvael complete access to her ass.
“Get to work,” she ordered.
“I’ll need a basin and cloth. Don’t forget my lecture on hygiene.”
“That is not what this is for, you disgusting bastard. It still hurts.”
“Sorry about that.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No. I’m not. Especially when I saw Fal sniffing around you yet again.”
“Fal’s a boy. I’d never be interested in him.”
“So me, Briec, and Fearghus didn’t need to throw him off the top of the building?”
Dagmar straightened. “You did what?”
“He’s unclear on boundaries. And don’t look at me like that. He’s still alive.”
Dismissing it all with a wave, she walked to the bed and removed her dress and her shift. She lay across the bedding, face down. And, like the royal she was, Dagmar waited for him to do as she bid.
Taking her foot, Gwenvael slowly rolled her over onto her back. She winced and glared. “What are you doing?”
He carefully bent her legs back until they touched her chest. “I bet if you don’t move it doesn’t hurt.”
“So?”
Gwenvael pushed her bent legs apart and settled in between, his face by her p**sy. “Guess you better not move then.”
Panting, she shook her head. “Don’t.”
“Too late. I have to have you. Have to taste you. But you have to keep still. No squirming, writhing, or anything else.”
He licked his lips. “No matter what I do to this sweet little p**sy—don’t move.”
Her hands gripped the bedding. “You’re a bastard.”
“And you love me for it, don’t you?”
“Reason help me, but I do.”
Gwenvael smiled, happier than he’d ever been before. “And I love you, Beast. Now, remember,” he teased, enjoying how she couldn’t help but squirm anyway, “don’t move.”
Keita the Viper walked past the rows of fighting, training dragons and into the heart of Anubail Mountain, the underground fortress of the warrior dragons. It was here that the greatest Dragonwarriors of the Southland were born. Royal or low born, it didn’t matter once you crossed the threshold and dared to enter.
As she passed, all stopped to watch her. She recognized a few of the males, but none had left an indelible mark in her life. None had been unforgettable.
She walked into the main cavern. The dragon she’d come to see stood in the middle of a rune-covered circle made of refined steel and trained hard with a long staff. Ignoring those who stared at her, Keita moved into that training circle and went down on one knee, her head bowed.
The staff swung over her head, missing her by less than an inch. Even as she felt it go by, she didn’t move, she didn’t cringe—she simply waited.
The staff slammed into the floor and one long talon tapped patiently. Still, Keita didn’t move.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t her mighty ladyship. The Princess Keita herself. And what are you doin’ here, little princess?”
Keita went back on her haunches, her front claws planted firmly on the floor. “I need your help, Elestren.”
“My help?” the low-born female asked. “For what?”
“To teach me to fight. To kill.”
“We all know how to kill, little princess. It’s in our blood.”
“I want to learn to fight like you. To be able to take on any dragon that challenges me, whether I’m in this form or my human one.”
Elestren began laughing. “You?” She laughed harder. “The pretty little princess wants to learn to fight like me?” She stepped closer. “You want scars like mine, too? They don’t go away, you know? Once the cuts go past the scales, they’re permanent. Even on your human form. Sure you want them? You with your male pets and pretty gowns? Sure that’s what you want?”
What she wanted was to never feel as weak and helpless as she had with that barbarian, Ragnar. He’d used her in his games and she’d never forgive that, nor would she ever let it happen again with him or anyone else. She was no mere prize to be won or lost, no bargaining chip to be used against her bitch mother. She was Keita the Viper—and she’d do whatever necessary to make sure she truly deserved that name.
Keita looked the warrior in the eyes. “It’s what I want.”
Elestren regarded her closely and nodded. “I believe it is.” The dark green dragoness walked over to the altar against the far wall. “When we fly into battle, we call on the war goddess Eirianwen. You want to stay here and train with me, whether you fight with our armies or not, you’ll dedicate your life to her, just as I’ve done.”