Dragon Actually (12 page)

“And you?”

Gwenvael gave that smile that had gotten him more pleasure than he cared to admit. “I am not my brother, lady.”

That’s when she moved.

She was up and across the room, snatching him out of his chair in mere seconds. Annwyl slammed him face down on the table, her knee against his back to hold him in place. The point of her blade burrowed into the skin of his neck. As human, that blade could easily kill him.

She leaned in and spoke quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and your brother. And I don’t want to know. But I’ll not be the bone between you two dogs. So take yourself from my sight. I am in no mood.”

With that she lifted him off the table and shoved him from the chamber.

The crazed bitch had more strength than he had known, he realized as she sent him tumbling from her presence.

He fell and slid across the cave floor, coming to an abrupt stop when a large boot slammed into his head. He looked up and braved a smile. “Oh. Hello, brother.”

With a growl, Fearghus lifted him off the ground by the back of his neck.

Morfyd reached down and pulled an Aouregan root. The materials she collected were for a spell that might help her destroy the protective barriers surrounding Lorcan. But she found the yelling simply too distracting. And when her baby brother literally flew over her head and landed in a heap not a quarter league from her, she decided it was time to say something.

“Fearghus!” She stepped in front of her advancing brother and put her hand on his chest. “Leave him alone.”

“Just let me kill him. Please.”

Morfyd bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. After all these years her brothers still couldn’t get along.

“No. She’ll never forgive you if you kill him. She still resents you for his tail.” To this day she remembered her three other brothers playing catch with the tip of Gwenvael’s tail and her mother raging like never before. It was funny then and it was still funny now.

“I hate him, Morfyd. I hate him.”

“I know.” She patted her brother’s shoulder. “But he is all our burden to bear. Our pain.”

“You know what?” Gwenvael jumped up, his rage pouring off him in waves. “You’re all bastards. And I hope the lot of you rot in hell.”

“You just stay away from her, you little toe-rag!”

“What’s wrong, big brother? Can’t handle your woman?”

Morfyd barely dodged in time to avoid the fireball Fearghus let loose. But it hit Gwenvael full in the chest, sending him flying back into the trees.

“Keep him out of my sight, sister.”

“Fearghus . . .”

“
No
!”

She’d never seen her brother so angry. And she had the distinct feeling it had very little to do with Gwenvael’s presence—for once.

“Wait.” She caught up to Fearghus and grasped his arm. “Gwenvael brought a message.”

Fearghus stopped walking. “From who?”

She smirked. “Who do you think? And he’s not happy. He doesn’t want us involved in this Sibling War.”

Fearghus looked at his sister. “And this means what to me?”

She sighed. “We can’t just ignore him.”

“I can and I will. You do whatever it is you need to do, sister.”

He snatched his arm away and walked back into his cave. She wouldn’t bother going after him. There would be no point. She knew as soon as she got the message from Gwenvael that this would only set Fearghus’s resolve. He never liked anyone telling him what to do . . . anyone.

She heard Gwenvael moaning and headed toward the sound. Then Morfyd stopped. She sniffed the air and looked around her. She felt a presence. Something deadly and evil. She had to move quickly. She began a chant in her ancient tongue, and soon flames covered her body. Flames that didn’t burn. She wrote sigils in the air and, with a roar that shook the glen, she sent the flames off.

Once the flames disappeared from her sight, she again headed off toward Gwenvael. She would tend her little brother’s wounds and hope that Fearghus didn’t merely open them up again tomorrow.

Hefaidd-Hen flew back out of his chair and across the room, slamming into the far wall. He collapsed to the floor and stayed there. His head feeling as if it might split open, his body racked with lightning strikes of pain. He should be dead. And, if he were any other wizard, he would be.

Two of his three acolytes were immediately by his side. “Master?” He slapped their hands away and continued to sit on the floor. He gasped for air, stunned.

So, it had been Morfyd. The Dragon Witch. That explained so much.

He smiled, even through the pain, and watched as his apprentices fearfully backed away from him.

Fearghus shifted back to dragon before returning to his lake. He was glad he had, too, because Annwyl waited for him. She sat on one of the large boulders that, because of its height, would bring them eye to eye. Her wet hair told him she’d bathed. Probably trying to wash him off, attempting to remove his scent from her body. That tore his heart more than he could admit.

But when she saw him and smiled, he became completely confused. It was the warmest smile he’d ever seen and she seemed absolutely relieved by his presence.

As long as he existed, he would never understand the girl.

“Fearghus. I wondered where you’d gotten to.”

“Is everything all right?”

She sighed. “I guess.”

The woman was killing him. Slowly. Bit by bit.

He settled down next to her and she immediately grasped a handful of his hair. “All right, Annwyl. What is it?”

“The knight.”

Fearghus tensed. “Yes?”

“I lost my virginity to him today.”

Fearghus’s head snapped around so fast he dragged the girl off the rock, her hand still gripping his hair. “Oi!”

“Oh. Sorry.” He never expected her to tell him. Never expected her to tell anyone. The way she walked away a mere hour before led him to believe she’d go to the grave with that secret. “Are you all right?”

“My butt hurts.”

“What?”

“From dragging on the rock. And do get your mind out of the gutter, dragon.”

Fearghus chuckled at that. “Sorry.”

She lowered herself to the ground but still had a firm grip on his hair. She leaned into him and Fearghus couldn’t believe how warm her body felt against his.

“What do I need to do to mount you?”

“What?”

“For battle! Honestly, Fearghus.”

“Oh. That. Just catch hold of my hair and climb.”

“Won’t that hurt you?”

“No.”

She seized two handfuls of his hair and pulled herself up until she placed herself on his back. She sat low on his shoulders, her legs straddling him at his neck.

“No saddle?”

“I’m not a horse.”

“No need to get testy. Just asking.”

She squeezed her thighs tight around his neck and he wondered how much more the gods would make him endure before he lost all reason.

“Did he . . . hurt you?” Fearghus had to know. Had to know what she was feeling, thinking. And she wouldn’t tell the knight. So maybe she would tell the dragon.

“No.”

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, Annwyl.” Yes. He would go to hell and this girl would be the one to send him there. A special hell for evil dragons that lied to beautiful women.

She gave a great sigh as she combed her strong fingers through his mane. He fought the desire to purr like a cat. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Do you want him?”

“Oh, yes. I want him. I
really
want him. But . . .”

“But . . . ?”

Annwyl could easily spend the rest of her life right here. Right on top of this enormous beast. Her legs straddling his neck. Her hands buried in his mane of black hair. She wondered what it would be like to ride with him into battle. To feel his strong body soar through the deep blue skies of Dark Plains.

But would she be happy? Could she give up her life as a leader and a woman to spend the remainder of her days in this cave with this dragon? Her dragon?

The knight had opened a new door for her. She never trusted anyone enough to let them get that close to her. He hadn’t made love to her, as she’d heard the kitchen maids call it. What they had was much more primal. Much deeper.

Could she give that up to stay with her dragon and be no more than a friend? That’s all the dragon could really offer her and there would be no guarantee he wanted to give her even that much.

And although the knight gave her insurmountable pleasure, it was the dragon that she wanted to talk to when she awoke in the knight’s arms.

Perhaps her father had been right. Maybe she did go out of her way to make things difficult.

“Annwyl?”

She realized that the dragon waited for her answer, but she really had none to give.

Annwyl stood on the dragon’s back and stretched. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

Annwyl, on a whim, did a handstand.

“What are you doing back there?”

“Nothing to worry yourself about, dragon.” She balanced her body and proceeded to move across the dragon’s back, inch by inch using only her hands. “Tell me more about your family.”

Fearghus stretched out and Annwyl let out a squeal of surprise as she lost her balance and landed heavily against his back. Ignoring her, the dragon rested his enormous head on his arms. “I cut the tip of my brother’s tail off once.”

Annwyl sat up with a laugh and wondered what the hell she was going to do.

Hysterical laughter. Why did he keep hearing hysterical laughter? Fearghus opened one eye to stare at his two siblings. They were practically falling over each other they were laughing so hard. They woke him up from a sound sleep for this?

“What?” His current mood wouldn’t allow for this. And definitely wouldn’t allow for
him
.

Gwenvael choked out an answer. “She braided your hair, brother.”

“Like a horse’s mane,” his sister added.

He growled and watched Gwenvael snatch their sister out of the way before the stream of white flame hit them both.

Of course, that didn’t stop the laughter.

“If that’s how you feel, you should tell him.” Morfyd tossed two apples to Annwyl. “But you can’t hide in here all day.”

“I know.” Annwyl looked at her friend. “I’m just not sure what I should say.”

“Whatever feels right.”

Annwyl nodded and left the chamber. She passed Gwenvael as she walked out of the dragon’s lair. “How’s your neck, Gwenvael?”

He glared but said nothing. Although she noticed he moved as far away from her as possible.

She bit back a smile and headed out in search of her knight.

She was so confused. And she wasn’t used to that feeling. She made life and death decisions every day. Even before she took over the rebellion, she risked her life and her brother’s wrath to help innocent people trapped in the Garbhán Isle dungeons. But her feelings over two males were making her completely useless.

But she would talk to the knight. Tell him how she felt. And most likely end it. Her heart didn’t belong to him, even if her treacherous body did.

She found him crouching by the stream, much as Gwenvael had done the day before. Unlike Gwenvael, however, the sight of his body sent a thrill through her that knocked the air from her lungs.

She forced herself to walk up to him. To face the man and tell him exactly what she thought. She knew he sensed her presence, his whole body tensed at her approach. Waiting. Waiting for her. She stood behind him for several long moments. Neither speaking. Annwyl crouched low, her body close to his.

Before she realized what she was doing, she slipped her arm around his shoulders and kissed the side of his thick neck. His whole body suddenly loosened up at her touch and he turned his head to look at her. He gave her the perfect opportunity to say something. To tell him the truth. But she couldn’t stop staring at his full lips or wondering what it would be like to have him inside her again.

She kissed him and his moaning growl set her body on fire. Wanting someone was one thing. Knowing he wanted you just as much was something else entirely.

Tomorrow
, she thought as he ripped the shirt from her back.
I’ll tell him everything tomorrow.

* * *

Tomorrow. I’ll tell her everything tomorrow.
Only a twinge of guilt needled his heart as Annwyl eagerly pulled his chainmail shirt over his head. Morfyd convinced him that morning that he should finally tell Annwyl the truth. Tell her that her dragon and her knight were one.

He promised himself he’d do it, too. He could feel her standing behind him and he had his speech all prepared. Then suddenly her arms were around him and her lips were on his neck. With those simple gestures all logic disappeared and all he could think about was burying his head between her thighs.

It seemed like they were both naked in a matter of seconds. Fearghus licked his way down her body, loving the feel of her hands on his skin, and in his hair. He settled between her thighs, her legs on his shoulders, and ran his tongue between the lips of her sex. He marveled at how wet she already was, how clearly she wanted him. He dipped his tongue inside of her and her body arched off the ground. She tasted so good, felt so good. He realized, as he slowly dragged his tongue across her clit, that she was everything he wanted and more.

He couldn’t give her up. He wouldn’t let her go. There had to be some way to keep her. To prove to her that they were meant for each other. And he would risk absolutely everything to make that happen.

Lorcan stared at his advisor. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”

Hefaidd-Hen spoke with his usual measured slowness. “Your sister is being protected by a dragon, milord. Perhaps two. The vision was not clear.”

“I don’t understand. How is she
protected
by dragons? People like her are
eaten
by dragons.
I’m confused!
” he bellowed.

“I can’t explain the relationship, Lord Lorcan. I can only tell you my vision.”