G A Aiken Dragon Bundle

by G. A. Aiken

Why?

  His power in that region is unmatched and he’ll do whatever he must to protect Vateria.

  Vateria? What does Vateria have to do with—

  You know Annwyl. I know Annwyl. If she locks on a target in the Provinces, it’ll be Vateria. In her mind, she’ll be the one who will need to die.

  But she’s there for the Rebel King, not Vateria.

  I have yet to know Annwyl to ever have one simple task, Vigholf. Trust me—she’ll want Vateria dead. But considering the power of her mage, I’m sure Vateria—

  —already knows Annwyl’s coming, Vigholf finished.

  Exactly.

  Now it was Vigholf’s turn to sigh. Just wonderful.

  Junius opened the door to his lady’s bedchamber. He motioned for his guards to wait outside and entered the room.

  He stood well away from the bed and quietly waited. The servant went to her lady’s side.

  “My lady?” she said softly. “Lord Junius is here to see you.”

  Smiling and stretching, the suns’ rays pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminating her naked body as she sat up, long silver hair framing her beautiful face, Lady Vateria greeted Junius with a large smile.

  “My Lord Junius. What are you doing here so early?”

  “We’ll have a visitor soon, my lady.”

  “A visitor?”

  “Someone I think you’ll be quite pleased to see.”

  Vateria, grinning, eagerly slid out of bed, and walked over to him. “Are you sure?”

  “Our god is sure, which means I am. I sent word to your patrols in the Western Mountains.”

  “Will the messengers reach them in time?”

  “I am our god’s chosen mage, my lady. I need no messengers for such a task.”

  Although all dragons could communicate with blood kin, at the Overlord’s command and their god’s agreement, Junius restricted that sort of thing within the Provinces. Only the messages he wanted to get through were allowed to leave or enter the region. It was how Junius had discovered the rebellion growing within the Iron ranks and was able to nearly snuff it out. Although not completely finished with that situation, it was totally under control. And it would stay that way.

  “Of course, of course.” She stepped closer to him, her excitement making her eyes bright, her nipples harden. “Could she truly be so foolish as to come here?”

  “Desperate, I think is the word you want. Once your father and Laudaricus join forces—nothing will stop them. And chances are this is a test by whatever god is protecting her. Annwyl the Bloody will not get what she wants until she comes here and completes some task.”

  “You mean like assassinating me?”

  “Most likely. But I plan to capture her before that.”

  Vateria wrapped her arms around Junius’s neck, meaning he could now touch her as protocol dictated. He did, pulling her close and gripping her ass.

  “Another toy for my collection,” she sighed.

  “You’ll have to be a little more careful with this one I’m afraid. The humans break much easier than our kind.”

  “I know, I know. But I’ve grown bored with the toy I have. I yearn for another.”

  “You’ve grown bored, yet you still go to the dungeons to play. Nearly every day.”

  Her head dipped and she smiled. “Not every day.” She briefly chewed her bottom lip. “When?” she asked. “When will she be here?”

  “Soon, I’m sure. Then she’ll be all yours.”

  Vateria went up on her toes, kissed him. “You do so endlessly please me, my lord mage.”

  “Shame your father seems to think that even with my connections and pure Iron bloodlines I’m so beneath you then.”

  “Don’t worry about Daddy. He adores me and he always gives me what I want. And now”—she led him to her bed—“you can give me what I want.”

  “Morning!”

  Rhona growled and covered her head with her arms. “Go away.”

  “We must get on the road, female. Now rise and bless me with your presence.”

  Laughing, despite her annoyance, Rhona let the Lightning pull her to her feet. But Vigholf was an extremely strong buck of a dragon and he yanked Rhona up and right into his chest, their bodies slamming together, startling them both. The pair stared at each other until Vigholf’s gaze moved over her face, finally resting on her mouth. She remembered his push for a kiss the previous evening, and she knew he was thinking about that now. But was he truly attracted to her or was she simply available? And even worse . . . why the hells did she suddenly care? She shouldn’t care! She should be punching that look off his face before he did something stupid, like actually kiss her.

  Gods! Her own weakness annoyed her.

  Rhona pulled her arms from Vigholf’s grasp but tried to keep things light. “It’s too early for you to be this extremely ridiculous.”

  “It’s never too early,” he joked, stepping away from her. “Now, did you sleep well?”

  She stretched her shoulders, desperately trying to forget how well their bodies fit together in that brief moment. “I did.”

  “So did I. I think we’ll need to sleep together tonight to ensure that restfulness stays the same. It’s in our best interest.”

  Shaking her head, Rhona walked around him. “I need food.”

  Vigholf examined the hills. After a moment, he unleashed a bolt of lightning and a ram with several burn holes in its side tumbled down the hill and landed at Rhona’s feet.

  Grinning, Vigholf said, “Food.”

  Keeping her laughter in, Rhona nodded. “Thank you.” She adored how proud he looked.

  “Welcome.”

  They ate and walked, the horses following behind them.

  “I heard from my brother this morning,” Vigholf said.

  “Was he angry?”

  That was not the question Vigholf had expected her to ask. “About?”

  “That you haven’t returned. That you’re not on your way back to Euphrasia readying your troops to destroy the Irons. That you’ve foolishly followed me on a death march after an insane monarch.”

  “Uhhhh . . . no. None of that seemed to bother him. In fact, he understood.”

  “Understood what? That you have this rabid desire to protect every female you’ve come in contact with?”

  “Actually . . . yes. Yes, he does understand that.”

  Rhona laughed and bit into another piece of meat.

  “You should be more positive about all this,” he told her. “I’m sure it’ll all work out fine.”

  She stopped and gazed up at him. “Why would you think that?”

  “One of us has to be positive,” Vigholf explained while he kept walking. “Or we’re both dead.”

  Keita gratefully took the goblet of wine her friend offered her and moved over a bit so that he could sit down beside her, their backs against the wall of the staircase that led to the castle bedrooms.

  “It’s disturbingly quiet, my friend,” Keita remarked after sipping her wine.

  Ren nodded. “I know. The Tribesmen would have had these territories well scouted before they came here. They will hide someplace and ready for their next attack.”

  “We should have taken the children, these idiot witches be damned,” she said again, earning her a glare from one of the nearby Kyvich. Keita’s response was to stick her tongue out at her like a three-year-old.

  “I could have gotten past the Kyvich, I think,” he reasoned. “But not your mother. And you won’t like hearing this, but I think she had a point. Run now, and the children will be running forever. Might as well teach them now to make a stand.”

  “But if something happens to them and I didn’t warn my brothers . . .”

  “The children will be fine. They couldn’t be better protected.”

  “I guess.”

  “What else bothers you, Keita?”

  “I’ve tried to contact my brothers, just to—”

  “Check on Ragnar, who you are deeply i
n love with but still refuse to admit it?”

  “Whatever. But they don’t respond.”

  “I think we won’t be hearing from them until this is all over.”

  Keita looked at her friend. “Why do you say that?”

  “From the beginning, before the children were even born, the gods have been involved with this family, Keita. I don’t know why you all seem to fascinate them so, but there you have it. And I think cutting off lines of communication between us keeps this rolling along.”

  “You think one of the gods sent Annwyl into the west, don’t you?”

  “Would it really surprise you? Annwyl may have her moments, but wandering off into the west to martyr herself to anything . . . ? I haven’t known that woman long, but that’s not Annwyl.” He took the goblet from Keita and took a sip. “No, my friend. I’m afraid the gods are playing their games . . . and we’re all caught in the middle.”

  “I must say, Ren. I’ve become quite annoyed with these gods. I mean . . . other than to make me so enticingly beautiful, I have no idea what their real purpose is. Do you?”

  Ren laughed, kissing Keita on the scalp and handing the goblet back to her. “No idea, Keita. None at all.”

  They found a place to get a few hours’ sleep near a stream for fresh water, a cave should they need the shelter, and someone’s livestock roaming around.

  Full from all the lamb he’d eaten, Vigholf leaned back against his pack.

  Rhona held her hands out. “Let me see that.”

  Vigholf held up his hammer. “This?”

  “ Aye.”

  He tossed it to her and she caught it in both hands. “Why would you choose something so heavy and cumbersome?” she asked.

  “Heavy? My old one was heavy. This one that your father made? Light as a feather.”

  “This is not light, Northlander.” She stood with the hammer, but stumbled a bit.

  “Sure you just don’t need some help with that, weak female?”

  “I’m fine, thank you very much. It’s just that I knew I shouldn’t have had any of that wine we got in town. But I needed something to silence the screaming in my head over what we’re being forced to do.”

  Gods, she was adorable, swinging his warhammer around. Even if she didn’t like the weight, she still handled it well.

  “Now a hammer . . .” he told her. “That’s a weapon. A weapon for adults anyway.”

  “Leave off me spear. It had served me well until you destroyed it.”

  “It was an accident!”

  “Of course it was.”

  “I hear sarcasm,” he complained as she stood over him and dropped the hammer on his stomach. “Ow! Evil wench!”

  Rhona laughed and sat down next to him. “I’m not nearly as tired as I should be.”

  “Good. Then perhaps you can explain Annwyl to me.” And Vigholf adored how wide Rhona’s eyes grew.

  “Why not ask me to explain water? The air?” she demanded.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You ask me to explain the unexplainable. Annwyl makes sense to no one. A bastard daughter of a monstrous tyrant, she should still be living in the peasant village her father dragged her out of. I mean what monarch wants his bastard daughter around when he already has a proper son as heir? She’s also the sister of an even worse tyrant who sold her off to another tyrant so they could unite kingdoms. She should be married to that second tyrant with a few royal heirs to make everyone happy. But she never even reached the wedding and ended up destroying the brother who’d tortured so many.”

  “So what does all that mean?”

  “It means she’s amazing—and terrifying. Annwyl kills without question, rules with an iron fist, and has little patience for anyone. She can be cruel, she can be loving, she can be heartless, and she can care too much. She is blindingly loyal, but demands the same loyalty from everyone and is devastated when she doesn’t receive it. I can’t explain Annwyl, Vigholf, so I never try.”

  “I guess then we’ll leave it at that.”

  Appearing relieved, she turned her gaze up to the sky. “Are those clouds?”

  Vigholf shrugged, studying every part of her, not caring about the sky or clouds. “No clue.”

  She looked at him. “That’s probably because you’re staring at me and not up there—you know . . . where the clouds actually are.”

  “I like staring at what I’m staring at.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. We need to get some sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

  “All right.”

  Rhona got to her feet and went over to her bedroll. By the time she’d settled down, Vigholf was stretched out right beside her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you my warmth.”

  “I didn’t ask for it.”

  “And yet I’m giving it to you because that’s how wonderful I am.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Ssssh. You’ll wake the horses.”

  Rhona shook her head and settled down. “You just never give up, do you?”

  No. He didn’t. But when Vigholf put his arm around her waist—she didn’t complain either.

  Chapter 17

  It was the lightning that woke Rhona up the following morning. Not the Lightning, but actual lightning. The stuff Vigholf ’s kind was made of, the way she was born of fire. And because of that lightning, she wasn’t exactly surprised to find herself no longer entangled with the Northlander. She’d discovered after their two nights together that Vigholf was one of those dragons who liked to wrap himself around a female like a vine. She’d punched and kicked her way out of several situations like that in the past, but it hadn’t bothered her so much with Vigholf. Perhaps because he wasn’t also a twitcher.

  Rhona dragged herself up and ran her fingers through her hair. Thunder rolled from the skies and big bolts of lightning cut across the land. Lightning that seemed to be getting dangerously close.

  “Should I even be sitting next to you?” she asked.

  “The lightning will pass. Just give it a few minutes.”

  She studied the dragon. “You look rather . . . concerned.”

  “Not concerned. Tense.” He looked at her. “Have you ever been hit by lightning?”

  “Only during battle.”

  “Well, we tend to attract lightning, seeing as we’re made of the stuff—and it can sting like hell depending on where it strikes.”

  “Interesting. I can walk through fire with absolutely no problems.”

  “Don’t brag. It annoys me.”

  She relaxed her back against the tree, her shoulder pressed into Vigholf’s.

  “Sure you want to get so close?” he asked.

  “If I had a problem with it, I would have said something last night.”

  His chuckle was low and soft, and Rhona added, “I can handle lightning.” She raised her knees, resting her chin on them, and wrapped her arms around her legs. She peered out over the field. “Besides, I like watching it. The way it skitters and flashes. You never know where it’s going to hit or how big or long it will be. I find it kind of... fascinating. And pretty.”

  “Do you find me fascinating and pretty too?”

  “No.”

  Vigholf’s laugh was louder this time.

  “Oh,” Rhona said, wincing.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I forgot about the horses. They’re probably long gone.”

  “No, they’re at the foot of the hill over there, where the cave is. They’ll probably stay in there until the lightning passes.”

  Rhona looked at him. “I bet it’s warmer in there than it is out here.”

  “Probably.”

  She stared at him some more until he blinked and said, “Oh! Do you want to go in there?”

  “You mean rather than sitting under a tree during a lightning storm? That might make sense.”

  He shrugged, gave a small, embarrassed smile. “I di
dn’t want to wake you up unless I had to.”

  “A tree I’m under, destroyed by lightning would have definitely woken me up.”

  “You use that tone with your siblings . . . and Éibhear.”

  “It’s my ‘don’t be an idiot’ tone.” Rhona got to her feet, picked up her weapons and travel pack. “Come on, Northlander. Let’s see if you can beat what you’re made of.”

  Vigholf didn’t beat what he’d been made of. In fact, he was struck at least three times, but thankfully it was mostly on his shoulders and arms. The worst was the head, neck, and ass. A Northland dragon couldn’t help but screech a little when hit in the ass with lightning. Although Vigholf always felt invigorated after getting hit with a few bolts of lightning, the effect often lasting for days.

  They ran into the cave, now both of them drenched since the skies decided to open up once they were clear of that tree.

  “That was exhilarating, eh?” Rhona asked him.

  “No, it wasn’t. It was painful.”

  “Don’t be weak, Vigholf.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, and laughing, Rhona stumbled away from him. “Don’t you dare!”

  “I was hoping you could show me how to not be weak.”

  “You unleash your lightning, and I’m unleashing my flame!”

  Vigholf moved toward her, arms out and reaching for her. “I think I’m willing to risk it.”

  “Wait, wait.” She held up her hand to stop him. “Where’re the horses?”

  Vigholf took a quick look around. “They were right here a few minutes ago.”

  “Piss and fire. They made a run for it.”

  “I doubt they went back outside.” Vigholf sniffed the air. “That way,” he said, pointing at a passage and walking toward it.

  “Wait, Vigholf, I’m not sure we should . . .”

  But Vigholf was already moving, going deeper into the cave. Rhona was right behind him, but she seemed a little nervous. He had no idea why. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he’d ever seen Rhona the Fearless nervous.

  They located the horses about a half mile in. The animals seemed uncomfortable with the thunder exploding around the cave walls, which probably explained why they ended up going farther in rather than running off. Rhona walked up to the pair and, with one hand for each, petted them on their necks.