by G. A. Aiken
Will I ever get a moment alone with that woman?
They walked past the gates of the castle, stopping when they finally hit the forest, and that’s when Briec punched Fearghus’ hand off his neck. The last thing he wanted right now was for anyone to touch him.
“You need to calm down, brother,” Fearghus warned softly.
“And you need to go to hell.”
Éibhear, always the peacemaker, stepped between the two. “Everyone calm down. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to all this. Right, Fearghus?”
Fearghus, ever the “calm one” stared at their baby brother as if he were simple. “How the hell would I know that? I don’t know what’s going on.”
Gwenvael leaned against a tree, looking smug. Briec wanted to rip his face off. “Brother has Claimed a woman.”
“Talaith?” Fearghus asked, confused. “The human?”
“I didn’t Claim her.”
Gwenvael crouched beside the tree, picking up blades of grass and ripping them with the tips of his fingers. “You certainly are acting like you did.”
The bastard was right. But he couldn’t help it. He’d walked into his brother’s hall expecting to give him news and go. He’d been in no mood for a party, so he’d had no intention of staying. But there she’d been. Right in front of him—in another man’s arms. Several other men, in fact, dancing her around the floor. She wore a dark blue velvet dress clearly fitted to her frame. Her black, curly hair threaded through with flowers the same color of her gown. She looked so beautiful. She looked…happy, like she didn’t have a care in the world. All the time they’d spent together, she’d never looked that relaxed except when she slept in his arms.
What did he do wrong that some other male did right?
Fearghus crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Who is she anyway?”
“Don’t you know?” Didn’t seem like his brother not to know who’d come into his den.
“I’ve asked Annwyl about her, but suddenly the most direct female I’ve ever known turns surprisingly vague. As does Morfyd. And I haven’t had much time to get any details.” Most likely because Fearghus had been busy fucking Annwyl blind.
“Briec found her in a little village outside of Madron.” Éibhear pulled the hood of his cape back. “He took her.”
“I rescued her. Get it right at least.”
“Why did she leave you?”
“Do you think I know that? Do you think I have any idea why I woke up and found her gone?”
“Perhaps she had another man all along.” True, he could kill Gwenvael, but their mother would never forgive him. “Perhaps she left simply to get back to him and she merely waited until you trusted her enough.”
“She left for no man,” a female voice said from the safety of the trees. “She left for me.”
Gwenvael grinned. “This just got interesting.”
“I will kill you where you stand, brother.”
“Don’t yell at me because your woman…has a woman.”
“I want you two to stop this conversation right now,” Fearghus ordered softly. “I mean it.”
The trees rustled a bit and a tall, but extremely young, brown-skinned girl stepped forward. Even in the dark night, the nearly full moon blocked by the forest trees, Briec could still see the girl clearly. He sucked in a startled breath.
“By the gods…”
Fearghus motioned to the girl. “It’s all right, Izzy. They’re harmless.” The girl moved closer and Fearghus introduced her. “You degenerate lot, this is Iseabail…Daughter of Talaith.”
How could she not be? She looked exactly like her. Except her eyes were a much lighter brown as was her hair and she was a good bit taller. Other than that, they were mother and daughter.
“She never told me of a daughter.”
Gwenvael snorted. “I see you built up a wonderful level of trust there, brother.”
“That’s not fair,” the girl snapped. She looked at Briec. “She couldn’t tell you. She really couldn’t tell you.”
“Why?”
She moved closer and Briec saw exactly how young she was. “She was protecting me. And, to a degree, herself. She would have hurt her if she told you anything.”
“Who would have?”
“Arzhela.”
Gwenvael stood. “The goddess?”
She nodded. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s not like we had any plans this eve,” Éibhear teased. Iseabail smiled but her eyes grew wide as the moonlight suddenly peeked out and spilled across Éibhear.
“Is your hair blue?”
“Uh…”
“Can I braid it?”
“No!”
“Izzy.” Fearghus easily drew her attention back to him. “Focus, girl.”
She sighed. “Do you really want me to tell you?” The dragons nodded. “You won’t like it.” Her light eyes flickered to Fearghus. “You especially won’t like it.”
“Why especially me?”
“Because it was your mate she was sent to kill.”
“You…and Briec?”
“That’s the eighth time you’ve said that.”
“But it’s just…” Annwyl stared at her with her mouth open. “You…and Briec?”
Talaith, shaking her head, stalked over to the window of Annwyl’s bedroom. It had to be the most enormous bedroom she’d ever seen. Obviously it took much to get Fearghus the Destroyer to spend time at Garbhán Isle.
“Well, what’s he like?”
“Don’t you know? He is your family.” Plainly there was much more to Briec than she knew. She thought Morfyd, Fearghus and Briec were merely all dragons. The same breed. It never occurred to her they were all family. Kin, as Briec would say.
Annwyl laughed. “You must be joking. He hates me.”
“You did hit him,” Morfyd chastised.
“He was in my way.”
“No, he wasn’t.”
“Close enough.”
Talaith buried her face in her hands. “This is a nightmare.” She turned accusing eyes on Morfyd. “You said he never comes here!”
“Normally, he doesn’t. And don’t yell at me.”
“So you hate him?”
Affronted, Talaith whirled on Annwyl. “I do not hate him.”
Confused, Annwyl scratched her head. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Everything.”
“Why are you making this so complicated, Talaith? If you still want him, be with him.”
“I can’t. I have to think of Izzy.”
“Exactly how much longer are you going to use her as your excuse?”
Talaith turned away from the window to face Morfyd. “Pardon?”
“She’s sixteen winters, Talaith. Soon she’ll be trying to figure out what she wants to do. Maybe help here or she’ll meet someone and want to start a family. Let’s face it, even with her Nolwenn blood, she’ll never be a witch. She has absolutely no powers.”
“That’s my fault,” Talaith sighed. “There were spells I should have cast. Sacrifices I should have made.”
“Haven’t you sacrificed enough?” Annwyl asked, silencing Talaith.
“Well,” Morfyd continued, “she doesn’t seem to miss it, so I wouldn’t concern myself too much. But you can’t build your life around hers because she’ll be starting her own life soon. Then what will you do? Stay here and be lonely? Perhaps become the wife of one of the knights? Is that what you really want?”
What she wanted was Briec. She’d always want Briec.
“Briec is not an option.”
“Why not?”
She glared at Morfyd. “Because he made it clear I was only temporary. Something to pass his time with.”
Annwyl threw herself into a large, winged-back chair. “He didn’t act like you were temporary. He acted like you broke his heart.”
Talaith shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
“He looked like you ripped his heart out of his chest, threw it to th
e ground, and stomped all over it while singing a jaunty tune.” Annwyl shrugged at Morfyd’s bemused expression. “I might have seen that look before on his brother.”
“Perhaps when you stabbed our father?”
Annwyl laughed. “No. Then he just looked proud.”
“He’ll never understand,” Talaith sighed out. “He’ll hate me for what I was sent to do to you.”
“I’m fairly certain he honestly won’t care. The only one who’ll care is Fearghus. And I have no intention of telling him anything, so—”
The three females jumped, Annwyl’s words cut off, as Fearghus kicked the door in.
Annwyl stood. “What the hell is wrong with—”
“Everyone out! Now!”
Morfyd didn’t hesitate. “Night, all.” Then she was out the damaged door like a lightning strike.
Talaith could guess what Fearghus now knew and she wasn’t about to stand there waiting for him to focus his rage on her. With a nod to both, she hurried past them and out the door. But as soon as she stepped into the hallway, Briec took her arm and dragged her off. The last thing she saw was her daughter—good gods, what could she have told them?—waving at her with one hand while making a grab for Éibhear’s blue hair with the other. Startled, Éibhear slapped her daughter’s hand away before practically running down the hall.
Then Briec pushed open a door and shoved her into a bedroom. By the time she turned around, he’d locked the door and thrown the key into the fire blazing in the small pit built into the wall.
Bastard.
Chapter Twenty
“You open that door right now.” She wasn’t going to panic. She wouldn’t allow him to make her panic.
“Not until we talk.”
Talk? Ack! Panic! “Talk? About what?”
“About why you left me. About your daughter. And about all these…these…”
“These what?”
“Feelings! I never had them before until you. And now I’ve got them. What exactly did you do to me, little witch?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything to you. I told you to let me go.”
“And because I didn’t let you go, you hexed me with these feelings?” He said his accusation like she’d gutted him while he slept.
“I didn’t hex you with anything, you idiot.” She walked to the large window and stared out over the now-deserted courtyard. One look at the dragon lord’s face must have sent all scurrying for cover from his rage—even his family.
“Then why do I feel like this?”
“Feel like what,” she asked absently.
“Like you ripped my heart out, threw it to the ground, and stomped all over it while singing?”
Eyes wide, Talaith turned to face Briec. “What?”
“My chest hurts. It’s never hurt before—until you. Make it stop,” he begged. “I can’t stand it.”
Unable to form words, much less coherent thoughts, Talaith slid down the wall, sitting hard on the floor.
She closed her eyes, fighting her desire to sob. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Briec. I swear.” She pulled her legs up tight and dropped her head onto her raised knees. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just wanted my daughter back.” Finally, tears flowed. “I had to get her back.”
After a painfully long silence, Briec sat on the floor beside her. She had the castle wall at her side and back, and Briec on her other side. She should feel trapped, smothered, but she didn’t. Not with him.
“Your daughter is beautiful,” he said softly. “Just like her mother.”
Wiping her tears, desperate not to look as pathetic as she felt, she asked, “What did she tell you?” Knowing Izzy as well as she did now, probably everything.
“Everything.”
“Of course, she did.” After several shaky deep breaths, Talaith once again had control. “So I guess you feel pity for me now.” Which would explain why he was suddenly being so nice. “The poor peasant used by a goddess.”
“Maybe I should feel sorry for you, but I don’t. You’re too much of a pain in the ass to be pitied.”
Against her desire to feel morbidly depressed, Talaith chuckled. “That’s very kind of you.”
Briec moved a bit, and the material of his wool cape rubbed against her arm. “Why didn’t you trust me, Talaith?”
“It had nothing to do with trust. Whether I trusted you or not, I couldn’t risk Izzy.” And she couldn’t risk him. Although Arzhela may not have been able to use her Magicks on Briec, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t send men to kill him. To sneak into his lair and destroy him while he slept. “I wasn’t willing to risk anyone I cared about.”
“Am I someone you care about?”
Talaith didn’t answer. She didn’t dare.
Briec rested his head on her shoulder, his silky hair rubbing against her neck and jaw. “Answer me, Talaith.” She didn’t. Instead, she turned her head away from his.
“Then tell me to go.”
“And you would?”
“If that’s what you want. But you have to say the words, Talaith.” His gloved hand slid over her leg, resting on her knee. “Tell me to go.”
Say the words, Talaith. Say them before he breaks your heart. But the words…she couldn’t force them out. And she tried. She really did. But it felt so good having him by her side again. She’d missed him so much. Annoying, rude, bastard dragon that he was.
When she said nothing, Briec let out a barely audible sigh. Briec the Arrogant had actually been worried she’d send him away. Well, that felt nice.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
Talaith cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
“And your daughter is very brave. Just like her mother.”
“Brave? Is that what they call it? Or blindingly stupid?”
“Brave seems much more fitting.” Briec turned his head, his lips brushing her bare shoulder where her dress tugged down a bit. “I missed you, Talaith. And I don’t like that feeling. I hate it when I’m miserable.”
Giggling—to her horror—Talaith pulled back to look in Briec’s face. “Oh, no. You being unhappy. Can’t have that, now can we?”
“You’re right. We can’t,” he responded in serious tones. “An unhappy Briec is an unhappy universe.”
The giggling became decidedly worse, because she knew Briec was actually serious.
“You think it’s funny? My misery?”
“You needed to be a little miserable. To know how the rest of us feel most days.”
He shuddered. “The nightmare of being human.” Sitting up straight, he adjusted his body so that he faced her side, his powerful legs on either side of her body. Then, he began slowly removing the flowers threaded through her hair. She let him. It felt nice.
“So you’re a trained assassin.”
She bet other people at this moment weren’t having this odd a conversation. “Um, yes.”
“Are you good at it? When you actually try to kill your prey as opposed to taunting them into killing you?”
“Aye.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“No. Not at all. Because I can kill people doesn’t mean I enjoy doing it.”
“I see.” He took his time, slowly removing each flower and letting them drop to the floor, making sure to constantly touch the skin on the back of her neck or her shoulders. Carefully, he moved her where he wanted her, so that he could remove all the flowers from her hair. It felt so good having him care for her. Eventually, dark blue flowers covered the floor around them and her body trembled at every sweep of his hand.
Briec leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear. “Stand up, sweet Talaith. Let me help you out of this dress.”
Briec stood, gently bringing Talaith with him. He kept all his movements deliberately slow. He didn’t want to push her too quickly. He didn’t want her to run again.
When he’d spotted her at the feast, his rage took over. He’d had all his words planned. Knew all the things he’d say to her so she’d understand ex
actly how much she’d hurt him. But then little Iseabail told them everything. The only one not moved had been Fearghus, but that didn’t surprise any of them. Fearghus’ only concern, as always, was for his mate. His Annwyl.
Now Briec understood, because he felt the same way about Talaith. His Talaith.
“Did you miss me, Talaith?” he asked as he untied the back of her dress.
“Ha! You wish.” But he could hear the shake in her voice.
“Not even a little? Not even at night, when you slept alone?”
“Who…who said I was alone? Perhaps I’ve had a myriad of lovers since I’ve been with you.”
He had a momentary stab of jealousy and then he remembered who he was dealing with. Talaith whose favorite phrase seemed to be “Get your bloody hands off me.”
“Really?”
“Aye. Many, many lovers. Good ones, too. All human.”
“Like who?”
She tensed. “Who?”
“Aye. Give me names. Or, at the very least, rank.”
He finished unlacing her dress, but didn’t pull it off yet. Instead, he ran his fingertips lightly across the exposed flesh of her back. Her trembling grew much worse, but so did the smell of her lust.
“I’m waiting.”
“Well, there were so many. I’m not sure I remember all their names.”
“My, you’ve been busy since last we met.”
Pushing her hair to the side to kiss her neck, Briec froze at the sight of a silver chain. He hadn’t noticed it before. He walked around until he faced her. She stared up at him, her cheeks flushed; her eyes wide.
“What? Does my disloyalty shock you?”
“Your disloyalty?” Briec took gentle hold of the silver chain and lifted it, pulling the pendant from under her bodice. She grabbed for it, but his hand closed over it first. “Disloyal, and yet you still wear this.”
Tugging the death grip her fingers had on him loose, he opened his hand and stared at the dragon pendant he’d given her the last night they were together.
“I…I wear that because it looks so nice with this dress.”
“Except it was hidden under your dress. You wear it close to your heart.”
She looked away from him. “It’s a bauble. It means nothing to me.”
