Читать книгу About A Dragon - G.A. Aiken - Страница 12

The chatter in the pub they decided to go to for food was interesting, to say the least. Lots of talk about angry gods and horrible storms. Plus, they feared the coming of the Black Moon.

Of course that wasn’t the correct name of the powerful moon, but she’d given up hope that the Northerners had any real knowledge of other cultures. Besides, she had bigger issues at the moment.

The only thing she currently worried about was getting away from one annoyingly determined dragon. He leaned back in the booth they’d luckily found in a quiet corner. She’d feared they’d have to sit out at one of the long tables on a bench. As it was, the dragon was hard to miss. Even with the hood of his black cape covering that silver mane of hair and the chainmail shirt and leggings he wore—apparently one in that doomed caravan had been close to his size—he received looks wherever he went. How could he not? He towered over everyone. Add in that he practically had to drag her along behind him, and the two of them stood out quite loudly to the general populace.

What she didn’t understand, what she would never understand, is why she hadn’t screamed yet. Why hadn’t she yelled for help? They’d passed a magistrate on their way to the pub. One of the few towns that actually had one, and although he watched them with intense interest, she never screamed or tried to pull away. Instead, she only stared back.

Resting her chin in her hand, Talaith stared into her beer. She knew exactly why she didn’t yell for help. He might get hurt. Even killed. She didn’t want that. As much as she detested him—oh, and she did detest him—she still didn’t want to be responsible for his death. She merely wanted him to let her go. But if the town turned on him before he had a chance to shift or if he shifted and took the town with him…she’d never forgive herself either way.

She could almost hear her mother whispering in her ear, “Talaith, Daughter of Haldane—you are an idiot.”

And the dragon wondered why she didn’t run back to her mother for solace. She, of all people, knew that welcome home would be less than pleasant.

“You’re deep in your thoughts, little witch. What worries you?”

“You know if you keep calling me that someone will slash my face open.”

He frowned in confusion. “That’s no longer the law.”

“Really?”

“Really. It has actually been against the law for about three years. Since the new…” he sniffed in that arrogant way he had and said, “…queen has been in power.”

Talaith stared down at her mug and kept her face neutral even as her hand tightened around the cup. “A new queen?”

“Aye. The Butcher of Garbhán Isle is long dead. His sister took his head and his throne.”

“I see.”

“Did you not know of this?”

They told her it was coming—that she was coming—but no one had told her it had already happened. “No. Lord Hamish didn’t allow information in or out of the towns without his express approval. Those spreading rumors were usually dragged away in the middle of the night to his dungeons.”

The dragon rolled his violet eyes in barely concealed disgust. “I don’t like that little man.”

She finally smiled. “Only you would think him little.”

“Very true.”

She licked her lips and carefully asked, “Do you know the, uh, new queen?”

“I choose not to speak of her,” he answered distractedly.

He sat forward abruptly. “I itch to be off.”

Talaith groaned, unable to hide her distaste for flying. “Can’t we walk?”

“With storms coming? I think not, little witch. So drink up so we can be off. I grow weary of all these”—he glanced around—“humans.”

“Trust me”—she sneered before tossing back her ale in one gulp—“that feeling has become mutual.”

The townsfolk had been correct. A storm was coming. A bad one. Briec could smell it in the air. But it was moving fast, a lot faster than he was. Although he’d have no problems braving an ice storm, he couldn’t do that to her. These humans and their frail skin, she’d freeze to death before he ever made it home.

So, grudgingly, he headed to the one safe place he knew of in a thousand leagues.

They landed inside the cave as the winds picked up and the first drops of rain and flakes of snow fell on his wings. Thankfully, she’d stopped squealing during this flight, but she insisted on keeping a brutal death grip on his hair.

“You can let me go now.”

“Are you sure?”

He smiled at the trepidation in her voice.

“Yes. I’m sure. Unless you want me to shift to human while you’re—”

“No!” She cleared her throat. “I mean, no need.”

Her fingers untangled from his hair as he lowered himself to the ground so she could slip off.

She took several steps away from him, wrapping her arms around her body for warmth. “Is this your den?”

“No. But we’ll never make it in this storm. At least you won’t.” And he wasn’t willing to risk her.

“You sure we’ll be safe here?”

“Aye.” He moved away from her, heading deep into the cave. “You wait here. I won’t be long.”

“Yes,” she called after him. “What fun I’ll have standing around in this dank, dark cavern waiting around for you.”

Ignoring her sarcasm, Briec went to head off the trouble he knew was lurking around somewhere in this place.

After five minutes, the storm turned deadly. She couldn’t remember seeing a storm this bad in all her years in this northern land. But when lightning bounced off two stones outside the cave only to ricochet inside and nearly take her head, she decided waiting around for the dragon’s return might not be in her best interest.

Unsure what else to do, but knowing she couldn’t just stand there, Talaith headed deeper into the cave. It didn’t take much time to find a long corridor lit with torches. Sighing in relief at the soothing golden light, she strolled down the rocky path, almost able to ignore the massive bouts of thunder exploding outside the stone walls surrounding her.

She passed huge naturally formed chambers. Some were empty except for a big boulder or two, but as she moved along, she found the others filled with furniture, clothes, statues. Some chambers so large they held entire carriages. And one had gold coin and treasure from the dirt floor to her hip.

She paused at that one. She hadn’t seen gold since she’d last been to her father’s home, when she would sneak off to meet him. Smiling at the brief memory of, as her mother called him, “the one who gave me the seed which allowed for your presence,” she again strolled down the hall. After a few more steps, she stopped. Froze, really.

How long had he been following her? Watching her? True, she could stand here forever, terrified. But hadn’t she done enough of that for the last two days?

So, steeling herself against what awaited her, she slowly turned.

“Well, hello, pretty lady.”

It spoke. An enormous gold dragon with a gold mane of hair that swept across the cave floor spoke to her.

Why not? This sort of thing must be common among those of us going insane.

Most people never met one dragon. Somehow Talaith had managed to meet two. Could her life be any more unmanageable? Probably not.

He leaned down a bit and sniffed her. “Ah, big brother’s about, I see. Are you his gift to me?”

Talaith growled. She tired of arrogant, smirking dragons assuming she existed only to be their plaything. Actually, she’d grown tired of everything male. The entire male species merely horrid beings meant to do nothing more than destroy all that existed around them.

Enunciating each word clearly so there’d be no confusion, “No, you arrogant, half-witted bastard. I am not here for you.”

Startled, the dragon sat back on his haunches. “I…uh…”

“What? Am I supposed to be quaking in fear of you?” Purposely keeping her voice low and controlled, she stepped closer to him. “Should I be sobbing and begging for mercy? Well, I’d rather burn in the farthest reaches of hell before I give you or that arrogant, half-witted brother of yours the satisfaction.”

She thought for sure she’d die. Thought for sure she’d finally pushed her luck to the breaking point. Especially when he went down face first on the ground and repeatedly slammed his claw against the rocky floor, shaking the cave.

Surprisingly, though, death did not seem his purpose. Laughter, however…

Even more evident when he rolled that giant dragon body onto its back and laughed harder. Hysterically, almost. Powerful dragon limbs flailing and everything.

Eventually, her silver dragon charged in. She’d started to learn his different expressions and moods. Right now he appeared concerned.

He stared at the gold lying on the ground literally rolling around in laughter then at her. “What did you do?”

Incredulous, she snapped, “Me?”

The gold looked up at the dragon. “She is going to make your life a living hell, brother!” Then he exploded into another round of violent laughter, again rolling back and forth across the floor.

Growling, the silver grabbed the gold around the throat and picked him up, placing him on his feet. The gold hit him to get the silver claw off his throat. So the silver hit him back. They stared at each other for several seconds, then the battle was on.

Not bothering to look back, Talaith ran, praying she could avoid getting buried alive with two idiotic dragons.

Éibhear the Blue opened his eyes when she sat on his tail, which lay happily buried under Gwenvael’s gold. He’d come to his older brother’s den to wait out the coming storm and had settled his bulk under one of the many piles of gold Gwenvael had scattered around.

He’d always been good at disappearing. Especially for a dragon.

Still, he never expected to find anything as interesting as this among Gwenvael’s treasures.

A woman. Human. Very pretty. And reeking of his big brother’s scent. Briec with a human? The queen wouldn’t like this one bit. She’d barely learned to accept Fearghus’s mate.

Slowly, so as not to startle her, he drew himself over to her until his snout rested by her leg. She didn’t notice him right away, cringing every time the cave walls shook—Briec and Gwenvael must be having one of their “discussions”—or stones fell from the ceiling, just missing her head. He knew, however, the instant she became aware of his presence.

Her entire body tensed, her eyes closed, and she moaned in despair. “Exactly how much am I expected to take?” she asked no one in particular. Éibhear said nothing, figuring she’d look at him in her own good time. And, she did.

“Hello.”

She sighed. “Blue. You’re blue.”

“I’m Éibhear the Blue.” After eighty-seven years, he never tired of saying that.

“Of course you are.” She rubbed her eyes with her fists. “Exactly how many more dragons are there?”

Éibhear wasn’t sure what she meant or even if she was speaking to him, so he decided to ask, “Here, m’lady, or in the entire world?”

Without taking her hands away from her eyes, she snapped, “Why would I give a centaur’s shit about the entire world?”

A known fact among their kind was that Éibhear was the most tolerant of his entire kin. He liked humans as a general rule and called many among them friend. That didn’t mean, however, he had to let someone yell at him for no good reason.

Slowly, Éibhear moved away from her. But she didn’t really notice until he pulled his tail out from under her and her butt slammed down hard with the pile of gold that had been covering him.

“Ow.” Gorgeous, dark brown eyes turned to him. “What did you do that for?”

He shrugged. “I thought you wished to be alone.”

Another crash came from deeper inside the cave and the walls trembled. She pulled her legs in tighter and wrapped her arms around her body. “No,” she answered as she stared up at the ceiling, clearly terrified it would crash on top of her at any moment. “I do not wish to be alone. It will be nice to be buried alive with another. We’ll keep each other company in the afterlife.”

Taking a deep breath, she admitted, “I’m just so tired. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“Oh, you didn’t.” Éibhear wanted to put her at ease, so he laid the tip of his snout on her raised knees. “I completely understand.”

Talaith stared down at the blue dragon snout lying dangerously close to her face. Ah, well, this makes sense. And although she should at least feel wariness if not outright terror at this dragon, she didn’t. Something about him simply put her at ease. She couldn’t explain it and, at the moment, she didn’t want to.

“My brothers will stop anytime now,” he said reassuringly. “Usually when one or the other starts bleeding.”

“Aren’t you worried?”

“About?”

“The sturdiness of this cave.”

“Ah. This cave was here long before any of us were born, and will be here long after we go home to our ancestors.”

Another loud bang shook the walls, and Talaith placed her hand on the dragon’s head. For some unknown reason, she found it comforting.

In response, the blue snuggled in closer to her, sighing contentedly when she ran her hand through his hair. She couldn’t resist—it was blue!

“What is your name, m’lady?”

Even the dragon who had her for nearly two days never asked her that—as if he couldn’t be bothered. “Talaith. I am Talaith.”

“Very pretty name, m’lady.”

Still stroking the silky hair, Talaith finally gave a very small smile. “I am no lady, dragon. Merely the only daughter of a merchant.” And the chosen one of a goddess who is to…hmmm, probably shouldn’t mention that.

“I’ve met many with rank. You’re more royalty than most of them.”

Laughing, “You don’t even know me.”

The enormous dragon lifted his head and beautiful silver eyes focused on her. As he looked her over, she didn’t feel naked and uncomfortable at all, as she seemed to when the silver dragon did the same thing. No, she knew in her heart this dragon was simply assessing the situation before him.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Lady, what happened to your neck?” His snout gently brushed her throat where she’d hung from the town noose while they prepared the stake.

When she didn’t cringe at him being so close, she felt quite proud.

Shrugging, “My entire village tried to hang me yesterday morn.”

And as easily as he showed kindness, he grew angry. “Why would anyone do that to you?”

“Because I am a witch.”

He sniffed with indignation. “Well, of course you are. I can see the Magick all around you. But what about your family? Was there no one to protect you?”

She couldn’t help it, she chuckled. “My husband led them, Éibhear.” Gods, Talaith. That’s not funny.

He growled low and black smoke curled from his nostrils. “Do you want me to kill them? I can destroy a village you know. I can destroy them all.”

“That is very, um, sweet of you. But do not waste your time. Leave them to their ignorance, Éibhear. I can no longer be bothered.”

Staring a moment more, he nodded before placing his head back on her knees. “As you wish. But please let me know if you change your mind.”

Talaith grinned as she hadn’t in ages. “I will, Éibhear. I promise.”

Gwenvael held up his claw. “Stop. Stop.” He wiped his snout and looked at his gold talons. “Ack! Blood. I’m bleeding! Death comes for me!”

Briec rolled his eyes, annoyed beyond reason by his idiot brother’s antics. “Oh, grow a spine.”

Gwenvael roared and crouched down, prepared to charge him again, when Briec suddenly noticed his human had fled.

“Where’s the woman?”

Immediately Gwenvael became distracted. One just needed to mention something female and he became distracted. Gwenvael’s sexual prowess rivaled only by their grandfather’s.

“I don’t know.” He glanced around. “She was standing here a moment ago.”

Briec glared at his kin. “You scared her off.”

“I scared her off?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Briec sniffed the air and followed her scent. Not surprisingly, Gwenvael followed right behind him. Nosy bastard.

“So where did you find her? She’s quite lovely.”

“At her village. And stay away from her.”

He had the nerve to sound affronted, when he said, “Why, brother. I would never—”

“Don’t bother. Fearghus already told me what you did with that mate of his.”

“I was only playing. Honestly, none of you have a sense of humor.”

“And from what I heard, neither did his mate. By the way, how is your neck? I heard she put a dagger to it.”

“It’s fine, thank you. And why don’t you ever use her name?”

“Don’t see a reason. She is of no consequence to me.”

Briec stopped walking and again sniffed the air. Gritting his fangs, he turned to Gwenvael and together they said, “Éibhear.”

Talaith glanced up as the silver and gold dragons stomped into the chamber. As soon as the silver saw her, his eyes narrowed, and she had the overwhelming desire to protect Éibhear.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Éibhear, who’d shifted back into human and graciously put on a pair of black breeches out of respect to Talaith, fairly ignored his brother as he tilted her head back a bit more to get at her wounded neck.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Don’t backtalk me. I asked you a question.”

“And I don’t see the need to answer it. As it is, I’m so angry at you right now, I don’t even want to see your face.”

“What are you talking about?”

Unable to stop herself, Talaith sucked her breath in between her teeth and cringed. Éibhear’s face softened as he looked at her.

“I’m sorry. This will only take a minute or so more.” By the gods…that voice! She nearly envied the woman who would wake up every morning to that voice greeting her. Of course, the silver dragon’s was nothing to sneer at. Only his made her think of dirty, dirty things.

“That’s all right. I’m fine.”

By sheer force of will, Talaith stood her ground while Éibhear gently smoothed on more cream. He said his sister, a fellow witch, had created it and that it would manage the pain of the rope burn on her neck. The blue dragon had been horrified when he realized his brother had not taken care of her wound. Of course, Talaith knew she would have never let the silver dragon get that close to her.

Plus it had completely “slipped” her mind that he’d asked her to remind him to care for her neck. The big bastard should have remembered without her reminding him.

All right, Talaith. Now you sound like a wife.

Éibhear motioned for her to lift up her hair as he moved around to get where the noose had dug into the skin behind the backs of her ears.

“Did you never think to treat this, big brother?”

By the startled look on the silver’s face, followed by the glare in Talaith’s direction, he remembered quite well their earlier conversation.

“She’d promised to remind me.”

“Remind you?” Éibhear stood behind her, but she heard the annoyance and outrage in his voice.

The gold leaned back on his haunches and shook his head. “How could you? You bastard.”

“Shut. Up.”

The gold glanced at her and winked. Cheeky idiot.

“Fine,” Éibhear went on. “I understand how that could slip your mind. But while I’m doing this”—he gently moved some of her stray hairs out of his way—“why don’t you introduce us, big brother?”

“Oh. Of course.” The silver cleared his throat, opened his giant maw to speak…but nothing came out.

Éibhear kept putting on the ointment, but the gold clearly expected his brother to introduce them properly. When he said nothing, the gold balked.

“Are you telling me you don’t know her name?” the gold demanded.

“Well, I, uh—”

Stepping away from her, Éibhear closed up the jar of ointment as she released her hair. Her eyes began to water from the pain and she wondered about the logic of allowing Éibhear to put that dragon-created junk on her human flesh. The dragon witch probably made it for something with scales.

Éibhear dropped the jar in a small bag he had with him. “He’s had her since yesterday.”

The gold’s eyes practically exploded from his head, then he burst out laughing.

Talaith said nothing as Éibhear pushed her hair off her face to examine a small scrape on her forehead. But she knew the silver didn’t appreciate the familiar move one damn bit. Good.

“It was an oversight,” her kidnapper gave by way of explanation.

Éibhear’s silver eyes locked on his brother. “I know her name. And I’ve known her about ten minutes.”

“I’m Gwenvael the Handsome,” the gold stopped laughing long enough to say. “At your service, m’lady.” He made a low, sweeping bow and the silver brought his tail down on the back of the gold’s head. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Accident,” the silver snapped. He turned back to Éibhear. “This is none of your concern, baby brother. I saved her, therefore she—”

“If you say,” she spit out between tightly clenched teeth, surprising them all, “I belong to you, one more time. I swear by all that’s holy I will scream these walls down.”

The three dragons silently stared at her. When she didn’t back down or look away, the gold fell into another fit of laughter that caused the silver to roll his eyes practically to the back of his head.

“Hungry, m’lady?” Éibhear asked as he stood beside her. It suddenly occurred to her the pain no longer plagued her.

She almost sighed in relief, but instead said, “Starved.”

He held his arm out. Like the rest of him, his arm was big and muscular. In fact, his human form was bigger than even the silver’s. “Then let’s get you fed.”

She took his arm gratefully, and they headed toward the exit. As she passed the silver, she stopped and looked up at him.

“And the name is Talaith, in case you were wondering.”

With that, the pair walked off, but she could still hear the gold’s hysterical laughter tormenting his brother.

After Briec slammed Gwenvael’s head into the floor a few thousand times, he shifted into human, yanked on a pair of breeches and boots and went in search of his human.

Talaith.

A very pretty name. It fit her. And he probably should have asked her what her name was…he just didn’t think of it. She’d never believe it, but the woman distracted him. To be honest, he was surprised he could remember his own name when in her presence.

Besides, it’s not like she took a breath long enough during her constant chatter to allow him to ask her much of anything. Especially important questions like who the hell she really was. He had no doubt she was truly a Nolwenn witch, but she was much more than that. So very much more.

It didn’t take long to track down the pair. Like all his kin, Gwenvael had set up several of the cave alcoves for the possibility of humans stopping by. He had several furnished with beds, chests for their clothes, bookcases. Whatever they may need. This particular chamber had a dining table and cooking pit. A lamb slowly roasted over the open flame while Talaith and Éibhear ate fruit, bread, and cheese. When he walked in she was laughing, turned in her chair to face his brother. She looked…comfortable.

He stopped before reaching them and tried to understand this awkward new feeling. No. He wasn’t liking this one bit either. He felt it now every time he looked at her. The feeling that he’d give anything merely to hold her close.

Briec shook his head. Exactly what had this woman done to him? Damn Nolwenn witches. Apparently even the untrained ones cast spells.

His brother and Talaith looked up at his approach. And as soon as she saw him, her smile faded and her laughter died. She sat straight in her chair, turning to face the table.

He frowned at Éibhear in concern, but his brother merely raised an eyebrow as if to say, “What exactly did you expect?”

Briec sat one seat over from Talaith. He grabbed a fruit, put his feet up on the table, and proceeded to eat while watching her. She fussed with her hair, scratched her wrist and hand, and basically appeared uncomfortable.

What the hell am I doing wrong? Éibhear and Gwenvael never seemed to have these problems with humans. Especially female humans.

“So have you eaten well?”

She nodded without looking at him. “Yes.”

“What about that?” He motioned to the cooking meat.

Éibhear yawned and scratched the back of his head. “That’s for later tonight.”

Still Talaith refused to meet his gaze.

He motioned to the chamber exit with a nod of his head. In response Éibhear shook his head.

Briec barely caught his roar in time. “Éibhear, would you mind excusing us?”

“As a matter of fact, I would mind.”

“Don’t test me, little brother.” His patience was waning. Had been since he’d first set eyes on this woman. He’d had a vain hope they’d make it back to his den this evening and he’d be between her thighs before the suns rose the following day.

Clearly that wouldn’t be happening now.

Talaith laid her small hand over Éibhear’s much bigger one. Briec’s eyes narrowed, focusing on where their hands met. Another new feeling. Somewhat territorial, which belonged to all dragons when it came to their treasure, but something more. Something he didn’t like one bit.

“It’s all right, Éibhear,” she assured his blue-haired bastard, baby brother. “I’ll be fine.”

“All right then. But call me if you need me.”

If he didn’t know the snot-nosed little cretin was being sincere, he’d rip out his lungs.

With one last glare at Briec, Éibhear left. Once alone, Briec dropped his feet to the ground. “Talaith—”

“Oh. So you’re using my name…now that you actually know it.”

Briec sighed. “I simply didn’t think it was—”

“I don’t even know your name,” she cut in.

He blinked in surprise. “Really? I…I just assumed Éibhear would have told you by now.”

“Is that his job then? To make sure everyone knows your name since you don’t have the decency to introduce yourself?”

It appalled him he was allowing some human to speak to him like this. And it appalled him even more he cared he might have hurt her.

“Fine. My name is Briec. Briec the Mighty.” He truly did not appreciate the snorted laugh that followed his statement. “What’s so funny?”

“It just…” She cleared her throat. “It took me by surprise is all. I thought you’d be Briec the Silver like Éibhear is ‘the Blue.’”

“I was Briec the Silver. When I was much younger. But once you make a name for yourself that usually changes.”

“And what about Briec the Arrogant? That seems much more fitting.”

“It’s Briec the Mighty, little witch.”

“Mighty, huh? Did you give yourself that name?”

“No,” he practically spat in slow, measured tones. “I did not.”

“I was just asking. No need to get testy.”

He was glad to finally see her smile, he simply didn’t appreciate it was at his expense.

“Talaith, understand, I didn’t ask your name because—”

She turned suddenly in her chair to face him. “Are you physically unable to say you’re sorry?”

That stopped him cold. “Pardon?”

“The words, ‘I’m sorry.’ Are you unable to speak them?”

Briec thought for a moment. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever said it.” He thought a moment longer, then shook his head. “No. I’ve never said it before.”

“Isn’t it time you started? Just tell me you’re sorry instead of making all these excuses.”

He looked down into that beautiful face, torn between wanting the return of the cowering female paralyzed by dragonfear and this sarcastic, argumentative female he had the feeling he’d never recover from. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes.”

He bent his neck to the side and heard the bones crack.

“Here, Briec the Mighty, try it with me.” She leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Talaith.”

Suddenly Briec couldn’t look away from those eyes. They snared him as sure as a war party’s nets. When he finally said the words, he nearly whispered them, unable to find his voice. “I’m sorry, Talaith.”

She blinked in surprise, most likely guessing she’d never get him to say it. She tried to pull away, but he slipped his hand behind the back of her neck and tugged her closer while he leaned over the chair between them.

“Briec?”

“Sssh.”

He had to kiss her. Simply had to. He moved in closer, nearing his goal.

“So what’s to eat?”

Briec’s head snapped up at the sound of Gwenvael’s voice. And before he could consider the consequences of his actions, he sent a ball of flame that shoved the dragon’s human form completely out of the chamber.

As soon as he did it, he knew his mistake. He turned around, black smoke still curling from his nostrils, to find Talaith staring at him. Her eyes wide, her mouth open.

“Talaith—”

She shook her head. “No. No. Everything’s fine.” Of course, she said that as she pried his fingers off her neck and leaned away from him.

Talaith no longer had the dragonfear, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t wary. She went back to her fruit and cheese as Briec desperately worked to control his human body.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she said, “Um, so, how long you think this weather will last then?”

Accepting his defeat for the moment, Briec shrugged. “I don’t know. But hopefully not long.”

Hopefully not long at all. His desire for this strange female was beginning to affect his normally logical mind.

And he didn’t like it one damn bit.

Talaith stood at the mouth of the alcove and stared. “This is amazing,” she murmured.

“Dragons like water. One of my brothers has a lake in his den.”

She nodded as she examined the steaming hot springs. There were eight in varying sizes, replenished from an outside water supply according to Gwenvael. He’d bragged about them all through the delicious lamb dinner Éibhear made. The more he talked about it, the more she wanted to try them out. She hadn’t had a bath since the dragon dunked her in the lake after she’d vomited.

“You going to get in or just stand there with your mouth open…drool coming out.”

She glared at him. “Very funny.” Talaith stepped inside, letting the light fragrant steam wrap around her. It was warm but not uncomfortably hot. Crouching down, she tested the water with her finger, relieved to discover it was hot but not searing—with dragons you could never be too sure, their idea of uncomfortably hot differing from most. With renewed eagerness, her fingers went to the ribbon tying her bodice together, quickly undoing it. But as she started to strip off her dress, Talaith realized Briec leaned back against the wall and watched her.

“Could you excuse me?” she asked.

“No,” he answered.

“Will you not let me enjoy anything?”

“That’s a bit unfair.” He grinned. “I merely thought we could enjoy it together.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

Briec sighed. “Do you really dislike me that much, little witch?”

“It isn’t that I dislike you so much, big, fat dragon. It’s that I don’t like you enough.”

“You’re cruel.” And she knew he teased.

“Aye. So I’ve been told. Too cruel for you.” She put her hands on his chest and tried her best to shove the big ox from the chamber. “Find yourself a willing woman. A dragoness perhaps. Someone who actually finds you charming.”

He took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ll leave you, little witch.”

“Thank you—”

“For now.”

Talaith bit her lip as Briec slipped her index finger into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the tip before gently sucking. His eyes stayed on Talaith’s, unwilling to let her go.

Her sex went dripping wet, her strong legs went weak. Another minute of this exquisite torture and she’d be flat on her back without another word.

All I wanted to do was take a bath. Now all she wanted to do was wrap herself around Briec the Arrogant like a jungle snake.

Using the same control she possessed to slow her heart rate and calm her breathing, Talaith pulled away from the dragon. “Well, that was…interesting.” She took a step back. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Briec nodded, turned, and began to walk away. Stopped abruptly. Sniffed the air. Looked back at her with a grin. Then he walked off.

She glared at his retreating form and thought about all the wonderful ways she could eviscerate the beast.

Moving silently so as not to wake the sleeping Talaith, Briec lay down outside the cavern Gwenvael gave her for a room. It had an enormous bed. A table and chairs of the finest wood. A pitfire built right into one wall. It was nice and he’d give almost anything to share that bed with Talaith. But she still resisted him. He had no idea why. She wanted him. He knew it. She knew it.

They could be spending the entire night making each other very happy until they both passed out from the pleasure of it. Instead, she fought him. Fought him and herself as far as he was concerned.

Yet what truly baffled him? What would most likely keep him up for the entire night…why he cared? And why he enjoyed her fight so very much?

She sighed in her sleep and he crossed his eyes at the images that were inhabiting his delirious brain. Of her under him, sighing like that when he made her come, and come…

Stop, Briec. You’re only torturing yourself. Painfully so.

Briec rested his dragon head on his arms and prayed for dawn. Dawn would bring the suns and his way out of this nightmare. Because, he knew, once he got his lovely, sweet Talaith back to his den, she’d be all his.