Knowing and understanding Vigholf’s strength of wil , Rhona knew she had to make what she wanted clear to the dragon. Yet she’d never been one for a lot of words. Especial y during f**king. So she gripped his hand—marveling at the size of the fingers tangling with her own—and led that hand under her leggings and between her thighs. She pressed his fingers against her and released him, leaving the rest to him. Praying he wasn’t as oblivious as some of his kin could be. As sometimes he could be—especial y when it came to horses.
His hand relaxed and for a moment she thought he was going to pul away. But his fingers curled, teasing, gently scraping, and then he pressed his middle finger against her clit, making smal circles against it.
With her legs wrapped around Vigholf and his other arm holding her up, Rhona was free to grip the tree behind her. She dug her fingers into the bark while Vigholf stroked her. Making her wet and squirm. He took her mouth again, silencing what had become persistent whimpers. When she moved her hands from the tree and wrapped her arms around his neck, he pressed hard against her clit, stil making those damn little circles.
She ended up screaming into their kiss, her legs tightening around him, and her body shaking as Vigholf made her come with those ridiculously large fingers of his.
Before she even finished, her leggings were torn from her and before she could say a word, think about anything but how long it had been since she’d come like that, she felt his c*ck pressing against her, then in her.
She gasped, her arms tightening around his neck. Never before could she remember being so grateful to have a c*ck inside her, ramming its way through stil -pulsating-and-grasping muscle. The entire time he never stopped kissing her. That demanding, desperate, and oddly sweet kiss that had her knees shaking.
His hands slid under her now bare ass and gripped her tight, holding her steady while he dragged his c*ck slowly out of her, both of them groaning at the feel of it.
Then Vigholf was plunging back in, Rhona unable to stop the little squeal that came out from him fil ing her up, nearly stretching her out. Gods, was it her imagination or had a c*ck never felt so good before? It was true, it had been a while, but the gods be damned, this felt so good.
And Vigholf’s inordinately large body keeping her pinned to that blasted tree . . . aye, that felt really good too.
She held him so tight with her arms and legs and yet that was nothing when compared to the viselike grip she had on his cock. Did she train her muscles to do that? Whether she did or didn’t, he knew he’d been right. This tail belonged to him. But how he would keep the one making his eyes cross and his knees weak was a thought for another day. Right now, right here—he had al he needed. Rhona in his arms, her hot wet p**sy wrapped around his cock, and her breath in his ear as she panted and made this delightful little squeal every time he thrust into her. Gods of fire and death, he could listen to that sound until the end of time.
But when she squeaked rather than squealed, he knew she was about to come. Her arms and legs tightening even more, her body shaking and twisting in his arms. He sought out her mouth again, pressed his tongue inside and licked and sucked his way to paradise. He final y came when she squeaked one more time, the sound dragging him over the edge. And he was glad that she was right there with him. Unable to imagine anyone else but Rhona ever being there again.
He leaned his head back and found her peering at him, her cheeks flushed, her lips swol en. He nearly laughed, realizing that they’d been so busy ripping at each other’s clothes, they didn’t even think about or discuss whether to shift back. But that was something they could save for another time since he enjoyed taking her as human so much.
Rhona took in a breath, about to say something when that large and round fruit slammed into the back of Vigholf’s head, turning Rhona’s words into a fit of laughter.
Vigholf glared over his shoulder at the stal ion standing a few feet away.
“Jealous bastard,” he sneered before he had to drop both him and Rhona to the ground, another piece of fruit winging its way right toward them.
Chapter 20
They were supposed to be sleeping. Mommy wouldn’t be happy if they weren’t sleeping. But it was al so fun! Like a picnic . . . in the dungeon! So how could they sleep? Instead they stayed awake and talked. Not out loud, though. Mommy wouldn’t like it if they were chattering away. That’s what she cal ed it when others did it. Chattering.
So they talked to each other just by thinking. They did it al the time. It was fun!
They were so busy chattering and thinking and having fun that they almost didn’t notice. But her cousin Tal y did. Tal y noticed everything first.
“She’s your first line of defense,” their friend said about her. They had lots of friends. Friends Mommy and the others could never see. Except Auntie Dagmar, but she was never around when their friends visited. Not since that first time one of their friends had come to see her and Tal y and Talan.
She’d stil been in her crib then. Not in her big-girl bed. And Auntie Dagmar had been so angry at their friend, he never came back while she was around. None of their friends did. They were afraid of Auntie Dagmar—but they pretended they weren’t. But when they did come, they were al pretty and shiny, glowing like bright lights in the dark. Sometimes she had to look away, it burned her eyes.
But those creeping in through the back door, they weren’t pretty and shiny. They were bad. They hurt the two guards watching the door while the witches had gone to investigate noises in the other hal way. With al the fighting outside the castle wal s, the witches didn’t think there was any real danger inside. But there was. There was danger and there would be until Daddy was home. Daddy and the others.
Tal y got to her knees. Tal y hated outsiders. Even worse, she’d liked those guarding the door. They were pretty too, but without the glowing. Tal y liked pretty. But she didn’t like these men creeping in. She didn’t like them at al . And if she didn’t like them, Talan wouldn’t like them either.
These bad men would move fast and quiet, not even waking the dogs, sacrificing themselves to hurt her and Tal y and Talan. She didn’t know why. What had she ever done? What had Tal y and Talan ever done?
Tal y, as always, moved first. Without a sound, she charged forward. The men didn’t see her coming. They didn’t expect her. She was too little, they’d say. Just a little girl. But Tal y landed on the back of one of the sleeping dogs that they played with every day, and launched herself up, spun, and rammed her sword into the chest of the first bad man. Tal y released her grip on her sword and dropped to the ground, and the man fel back into his friend. That’s when Talan threw his own sword, hitting the second man in his open mouth with it. Good thing, too, he was about to wake everyone up. Then Mommy would be upset. She’d cry and they’d have to go far away.
The men weren’t moving now. None of them were. Not the bad men or the nice soldiers who made her smile and let Tal y hit their shields with her sword.
She didn’t want to see this anymore. She didn’t want Mommy upset. When Mommy was upset, it made her sad. So she opened what Pretty-Ren cal ed a “doorway” and sent the bad men back to their friends outside the castle gates and the nice men back to the nice soldiers who would take care of them. It wasn’t a hard thing to do. Opening two doorways at the same time and making them al go away so no one would be sad. She wasn’t sure why it wasn’t hard for her because Pretty-Ren always acted like it was so hard.
But then her cousins turned and glared at her.
Our swords? Tal y snapped inside her head.
Even though she wanted to cry, she knew Tal y hated criers. So she did what Mommy always did when she passed some of the witches. Raised two fingers and flipped them up in the air.
“Are you three up?” Ebba asked. She’d also been asleep in the room. She could sleep while standing. Just like real horses!
Rhian wished she had four legs and hooves, too. Then she could run with the big horses and play in the sun al day.
“Back to sleep, little ones, before Talaith has my head.” Ebba smiled at them and put them back to bed. Ebba was always so nice, even when she was angry.
Once she had them down, Ebba went back to the other side of the room and al her books. Ebba loved to read. Once she was gone, Tal y snapped, Now what are we going to do without our swords? What if we’re attacked again? You’re hopeless!
That made Rhian mad so she punched her cousin right in the arm, which only made Tal y rol her eyes and turn over, pul ing the blanket over her head. And Talan was already asleep. He could sleep through pretty much anything.
But now that no one was speaking to her anymore, Rhian was able to get some sleep too.
The commander of the mighty Horsemen of the Western Mountains discussed with his men their next plan of attack. He wanted this place pul ed down stone by stone in the name of their horse god. If the Southland queen ever came back here—and that was doubtful—he wanted to make sure she found nothing but rubble and the bodies of her friends and family.
He was debating with his men about a possible weakness on the south wal when a bright flash lit up behind him. He and his men lifted their heads and, slowly, turned.
The two assassins—two of his best—whom he’d sent in to find and kil Annwyl’s demon children only a few hours before, were now lying in a heap behind them.
His next in command walked over to the bodies and pul ed the smal -sized weapons out of the assassins’ bodies. He held them up. They were clearly swords rather than daggers, which led his next in command to ask, “They’ve got centaurs and dwarves in there?” Chapter 21
Rhona was impressed when Vigholf ended up eating the fruit rather than chucking it back at the horse.
Those two would never be friends, but what was the point of wasting food?
And, as she’d feared, Vigholf was one of those who was always hungry after f**king. Like feeding an empty pit.
He handed her a piece of bread, and Rhona was at least grateful he was good about sharing.
“We need to do something about our hair,” Vigholf suddenly announced. It seemed an odd thing to say with the pair of them sitting on the bedrol , nak*d.
“What?”
“We’ve got warrior braids in. Sovereign soldiers’ hair may be too short for that, but they’l notice it on others.” He had a point.
Rhona shoved the last bit of bread into her mouth and wiped one hand against the other. “I’l do yours first,” she said while she crawled around behind him. Resting on her knees, she grabbed a plait in her hand and began to unbraid it. As she finished more and more of them, she ran her hands through his hair, enjoying the way Vigholf relaxed against her each time she did.
It took some time, but it was a smarter way to go if they hoped to be even remotely ignored as they moved farther along the road and neared the Provinces.
“Your turn,” Vigholf said, pul ing her around and placing her in front of him.
To her surprise, he managed to unbraid her hair without any help. To be honest, she wasn’t sure his fingers were nimble enough, but she was learning his fingers were quite . . . adept.