When neither moved, Annwyl did the only thing she could think of. She crouched down and opened her arms and, to her great relief, both her children ran to her, throwing themselves into her arms as if pitched by a catapult. She caught them and pul ed them tight into her body, hugging them with al her strength. They put their arms around her shoulder and buried their faces into each side of her neck.
The twins had grown into a right pair of little brawlers, just like their mum. Strong arms held Annwyl, little scars from fights and hard play littered any exposed flesh she could see. They were dirty and probably even worse nightmares to deal with than they had been.
And they were hers. They were hers.
Annwyl didn’t even realize she’d begun to cry until Fearghus’s thumb wiped the tears from her cheeks. He now crouched in front of her and smiled at her with such love, she didn’t know what to do, what to say. Al she knew was that she was home, she was safe, she had her family, and the heads of Overlord Thracius and Lord Laudaricus had been planted on spikes outside her gates. Although that was temporary, since the troops she’d be sending off to help the Rebel King Gaius claim his empire would bring those two heads with them.
Standing, Fearghus took Talwyn and Annwyl kept Talan. Together, they carried their children inside their home and Annwyl knew that final y, she could get some sleep.
Chapter 37
Rhona wrapped her arms around her father and hugged him tight. “Hel o, Daddy.”
“My girl. I’m so glad to see you. I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me, too” She sighed. “But . . .” She pushed her father back from the flap and farther into his tent. “Mum’s on her way in. She’s not happy.”
“This isn’t the Dragonwarrior thing again, is it? Because I won’t listen to any of that centaur shit yet again.”
“No, no.” She looked away from her father’s dark gaze.
Sulien chuckled. “Let me guess. It has something to do with that Lightning.”
“He says he loves me.”
“Of course he does. You couldn’t tel ?”
“Wel —”
“Forget I ask. As bad as your mother.” He kissed her forehead. “Wel , you know I’l have to terrify him at least a little.”
“I know. I think he’s expecting it.”
“That takes the fun out of it.”
“Daddy,” she laughed.
Her mother walked into the tent and Rhona stammered, “Wel . . . uh . . . must go.”
“Like a rat from a sinking ship!” her mum yel ed after her.
“Made a run for it?” Vigholf asked. He stood next to the tent, patiently waiting for her.
“I didn’t want to hear it.” Especial y since she’d heard “it” al the way back from Euphrasia Val ey until Ghleanna had final y barked, “Pack it in already, Bradana! We’re sick of hearing about it!”
Gods, she loved her Aunt Ghleanna.
“You know what?” Vigholf asked.
“You’re hungry?”
“Starving.”
She took his hand in hers. “Then let’s go feed you, yeah? Before you starve to death.”
“You’re okay with this?” Bradana asked her mate.
“I don’t have a problem with Lightnings. Of course, my people didn’t try to systematical y wipe them out either.” Bradana shrugged. “It wasn’t systematic.”
“And in answer to your question . . . yes. I’m okay with this. He makes her happy, he cares about her, and the dragon can wield a mighty warhammer.”
“He’l take her back to the north, you know? To live with that Horde of his.”
“So? I came with you, I’m no more the worse for wear.”
Bradana examined the blades her mate had hanging from a rope. “You don’t think she’s leaving just so . . .”
“She can get away from you?”
She shrugged again. “I know I pushed her a bit. Expected more from her than the others. Maybe she’s just doing this to get out from under, yeah?”
Sulien slipped his hand around the back of Bradana’s neck and pul ed her close, kissing her cheek. “If there’s one thing we both know about our oldest girl is that she’d never leave her siblings except for a dragon she loved. If she goes with him, it’s because she wants to. Because she loves him. Not to get away from you or anyone else.”
Bradana hugged Sulien tight, dropping her head against his shoulder. “I’l miss her when she’s gone—the impossible little cow.”
“Of course you wil . Who wil you complain about if she’s not here? Ow! That was unnecessary, female!” Ragnar stopped walking and sighed. Loudly.
“What are you doing?” he asked the She-dragon he loved, who’d wrapped her arms around his shoulder.
“Pummeling you into submission!”
“You’re not very good at it.”
“So everyone keeps tel ing me.” She released his neck and dropped to the ground. Ragnar faced her and marveled at the fact that being caught in the middle of this siege on Garbhán Isle had not affected Princess Keita’s dress code. Her blue dress glittered, her jewel-encrusted gold jewelry sparkled, and she stil wore no damn shoes! Why wouldn’t the female wear shoes when she was in her human form? Was there a moral reason? A fashion one? What was her problem with shoes?
“Why are you staring at my feet?” She raised a brow. “Do they arouse you?”
“Keita—”
“They do, don’t they?” Pushing the toes of her right foot into the ground and raising the heel a bit, she said, “They are quite adorable. Just like me!”
“I missed you, Keita,” Ragnar told her, al teasing aside. “Very much.”
“Oh? That’s nice to hear.”
“Is that al you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say? What do you think I should say?”
“I don’t think you should say anything. I was just asking.”
“Wel . . . al right. I’m going to see my brothers.” She nodded, walked away, but she was heading away from the castle, so she stopped and turned, heading back. She walked by, got about ten feet, stopped.
Then Keita the Viper spun around and ran into his arms, hugging him tight. “This is al your fault!” she accused.
“What is?”
“How much I missed you! And I was shockingly worried about you. I actual y cared if you were hurt or had been damaged in some way.” She leaned back, squinted up at him. “You weren’t, were you? Damaged?”
“Not so that I won’t heal.”
“Good.” She rested her head on his chest. “Believe it or not, I don’t know what I’d have done if something happened to you.” Keita abruptly pul ed back from him and punched him in the chest. “What have you done to me, foreigner? Wel , let me make it plain that you’l not trap me in your evil web of amazing sex and unconditional love! I’m stronger than that!” And Ragnar sighed . . . loudly.
Rhiannon sat down beside her youngest offspring on the hil that overlooked the castle of Garbhán Isle and the surrounding grounds.
She’d known since his hatching that this time would come. For Fearghus and Briec it had come quite early. For Morfyd it had come quite late.
And for Gwenvael and Keita . . . wel , it had never been. It was that point in a young dragon’s life when he was no longer a hatchling, a babe. Yet being a ful adult was stil a few years out of reach. For most of them it wasn’t a hard transition. They simply went from being fil ed with wonder to cynical pains in the ass seemingly overnight. But Éibhear had always been different. A little smarter. A whole lot sweeter. She’d always feared that the transition for him would not be an easy one.
And, based on what Fearghus had told her, it wouldn’t be. Not for her sweet Éibhear. Not now that he blamed himself for something that could have happened to any of them. And, in some ways, had. As royals they al had to make decisions, had to do things that didn’t always feel good or even right, but were necessary. Austel ’s death, while tragic, was the way of war. As a soldier in Rhiannon’s army, that was the risk Éibhear took.
The risk Rhiannon took by al owing her offspring to involve themselves in war, to risk their lives picking up a sword, an ax, a hammer and set off after her enemies. To keep her throne safe, her kingdom safe.
Real y, what could she say to her son now that would make him feel better? What words of wisdom could she impart that would make him say,
“Oh? Wel , if it was to be . . .”
No. There was nothing to say. Nothing she could say or do that would make her son feel any better.
In fact, Rhiannon knew only one thing at the moment. She knew that she’d already lost the sweet hatchling she adored since she’d seen his handsome face grin at her after tumbling out of his egg, head first. And what dragon would replace that blue-scaled hatchling? Rhiannon stil didn’t know.
So with no words to ease what Éibhear was going through, Rhiannon simply placed her arm around him and tugged until he rested his head on her shoulder. And there they sat, on that hil , staring off at the bodies of Tribesmen not yet cleaned up, wishing things could go back to the way they were, but knowing that would never happen.
Chapter 38
For five ful days Queen Annwyl slept, and Izzy had never been so grateful. Annwyl had needed that sleep more than anyone could possibly know.
At first, everyone tried to tiptoe around, Fearghus snarling at anyone making too much noise. But what Izzy knew and what everyone else eventual y realized was that nothing could wake Annwyl. But when she final y did emerge, bounding down the stairs into the Great Hal , her long, light brown hair washed and a clean pair of black leggings, black boots, and one of her favored sleeveless chain-mail shirts on, Izzy couldn’t help but grin. This .
. . this was the Annwyl she knew. And gods, was she glad to see her again.
“Morning, Iz.”
“Morning.”
Annwyl dropped hard into a chair catty-corner from Izzy and put her feet up on the table. Izzy handed her a round loaf of bread.
“Sleep wel ?” she asked Annwyl.
“Like the dead. It felt wonderful.” Annwyl tore off chunks of bread and ate while looking around the room. “Where is everyone?” she asked between bites.
“Have no idea. Everyone’s been rather scarce since our return. I think they’re al shagging.” Annwyl laughed, her humor back, eyes bright. “I think you’re probably right.” She glanced around and whispered, “And you?”
“And me what?”
Annwyl made her eyebrows dance a bit.
“Gods, Annwyl!”
“Oh, come on. You’ve got both here.”
“Yeah, right. Éibhear’s sitting outside, staring pensively off into the distance—who knows what’s going on with him—and Celyn’s been avoiding me like I might f**k him right here on this table during morning meal. Tel me, my wise queen . . . why do we bother with any of them?”
“We both like cock.”