Feel the Burn

by G. A. Aiken

  What else could they do?

  In the middle of the cavern, by the big dining table, two of the girl Abominations fought. It was kind of like the wrestling the Daughters of the Steppes taught their little girls when they were still learning to walk. Only the toddlers were better at it.

  On the dining table was Zoya Kolesova. She held on to the boy Abomination while he tried to get away from her without using a weapon.

  He needed a weapon.

  On the other side of that table was the rest of Kachka’s team. They were telling Zoya to let the boy go, which Kachka truly appreciated.

  With a sigh, Kachka began to move forward, hoping to restore some semblance of order, but the old Dragonwitch yanked her back and moved with a sure-footedness that Kachka found rather shocking considering the female’s usual limping gait.

  Raising her walking stick, the old witch slammed it into the ground, shaking the cave walls and shocking everyone into silence. The two girls jumped apart as if on fire, panting from . . . what exactly? Exertion? Exertion from that?

  “That is enough!” the She-dragon bellowed. “I’m tired of this centaur shit!”

  “She started it!” the cousins screamed in unison while the boy yelled, “Get this beast off me!”

  “You want to go to the Southlands, Iron scum?” Brigida abruptly asked the king.

  “Uh . . .”

  “Then go you shall.”

  Brigida lifted her arms, her walking staff held high, the black crystal on the head suddenly glowing.

  “Shit,” Nina murmured, her hand falling on Kachka’s shoulder.

  Kachka glanced at her, wondering why the bitch was touching her. But the look of fear on her face . . .

  “All of you,” the Dragonwitch bellowed, “get the fuck out of my house!”

  Kachka watched as a spot beyond the dining table turned dark, the air around it swirling, lightning striking the ground beneath.

  “What is she doing?” Gaius demanded.

  Kachka shrugged. “Cleaning house.”

  Brigida watched the last pain in her ass go through the doorway. Then she shut it and let out a relieved sigh.

  Silence. Wonderful, amazing silence. No arguing. No complaining. No whining. No Riders. Just silence.

  Now she could focus on the oncoming war and the Abominations littering the territories around her mountain home. There was training to do. Plans to organize. Sacrifices to make.

  And she knew, without doubt, that her three young kin would make their way back here. But for now . . . she would do nothing but enjoy the quiet.

  Exhausted, Brigida slowly lowered her arms and rested against her walking staff.

  After thinking for a moment, she realized she had made one mistake in her anger.

  “Should have kept that blasted bear . . .”

  Chapter Seven

  Briec the Mighty, second oldest in the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar, fourth in line to the throne of the White Dragon Queen, Shield Hero of the Dragon Wars, Gold Shield Hero of the War of the Provinces, Former Lord Defender of the Dragon Queen’s Throne, Patient Overlord of the beautiful Talaith’s heart, and proud father of the two most perfect, perfect daughters in the world merely because they were his daughters, which—no matter how much their mother might squawk about it—Talaith had little to do with, placed his legs up on the dining table and sighed happily as he sipped his wine.

  Everyone was out at the moment and the Great Hall was wonderfully silent. He loved times like these. Even those vile dogs Lady Dagmar insisted on having around didn’t bother Briec when he was this relaxed.

  He glanced down at the one currently sniffing around his chair, searching for scraps to feed the never-ending hunger these mammoth beasts never seemed to satisfy.

  Briec sniffed a little himself. Gods. It had been ages since he’d had dog. A quick, lovely delicacy. Like finding beef jerky buried in one’s travel pouch. He hadn’t had dog in ages, not since Dagmar found him feeding on one a few years back. Gods! The drama! And the cursing! Who knew such a polite, well-taught woman had a mouth like a nasty sewer?

  Briec glanced around. He was definitely alone. And this dog was not one of Dagmar’s favorites. If it was, it would be right by her side. Not trying to get its giant body under Briec’s chair to grab a scrap of bread. If Briec didn’t know better, he’d think the dog hadn’t eaten in days. But Briec did know better. Dagmar’s dogs ate better than any of them. The finest meats butchered and braised for the dogs’ consumption as if they were royals coming to visit and not four-legged beasts that were so very yummy.

  After another quick glance around, Briec smirked and leaned down a bit toward the dog. “Hello, my little tasty niblet. Wouldn’t you like to be a delicious treat for Briec the Mighty? Of course you would. Yes, you would! Now come here and—” A sound, like the tearing of a wall from its foundation filled the room and all Briec had time to say was, “How does she always know?”

  But instead of Dagmar charging in to order him to “get the battle-fuck away from my gods-damn dog, you viper!” a mystical doorway opened in the middle of the Great Hall and he watched in horror as a skinless bear came right at his head—

  Gaius hit the ground, his human flesh tearing as he skidded across the hard stone floor. When he finally stopped, he was face-first in a dragon’s human crotch.

  Yes. This day was getting better and better.

  “Why is there a bear on me? What is happening?” a pompous-sounding voice demanded.

  Gaius heard something wet hit the ground and assumed it was that poor bear.

  “And what the battle-fuck are you doing?”

  Gaius slowly raised his head—and smiled. “Hello, Prince Briec,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You’re looking handsome today.”

  That’s when Gaius took a boot to the face when the prince scrambled to get out from under him. If it hadn’t hurt, he’d be laughing more.

  “What is happening?” Briec snarled as he got to his feet.

  “Daddy?”

  Briec started. “Is that . . . is that my perfect, perfect daughter?”

  “Daddy, stop calling me that.”

  “Yes,” Gaius heard Talwyn complain. “Stop calling her that.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Rhi asked.

  “What do you think it means?”

  “Would you two shut it?” Talan barked. “I can’t hear another one of these bloody arguments! And someone get this crazed female off me!”

  Arms stretched over Gaius’s shoulders, Kachka, who’d landed on top of him, rested her head against his cheek. “Be glad we never had chance to drink before that She-dragon threw us out of her lair. This would have been . . . less good.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.”

  Prince Briec pushed his niece out of the way, ignored his struggling nephew, and lifted his daughter by her waist, turning in a circle as if she were still a small child rather than a grown woman.

  “There she is!” he announced to the room. “My beautiful, perfect daughter.”

  “Daddy! Stop!”

  “You shouldn’t be telling me to stop. You should be thanking me for giving you such beauty and perfection.”

  “Wow,” Gaius muttered to Kachka. “That is an amazing amount of arrogance standing there.”

  “So this is the Southlands,” Marina Aleksandrovna said as she stood, turning in her own circle to look at the hall.

  “This,” Tatyana Shestakova announced with awe, “is the seat of power of Queen Annwyl.”

  “I bet,” Kachka whispered in his ear, “that she wishes she’d landed in the queen’s lap, the way you landed in the arrogant dragon’s.”

  Gaius dropped his head and chuckled just as Zoya Kolesova demanded, “Where is your mother, boy? I will barter with her for you.”

  Briec quickly placed his daughter safely behind him. “Why is there a giantess in this house?”

  “Why are you looking at me?” Talan asked.

  �
�Because she’s holding on to you like she owns you.”

  “That is plan!” Zoya cheerfully announced. Then, she suddenly looked at Briec. “I will take you as well, pretty one. I have older daughters who will like you, too.”

  “Older? What does that mean?”

  Rhi jumped in front of her father, both arms out to block Zoya. “No. This is Prince Briec and he has been Claimed by my mother. An incredibly powerful witch.” When the giant smirked, Rhi added, “She can turn your blood to glass.”

  Actually, from what Gaius had seen of Talaith’s magicks, no, she couldn’t. But he understood Rhi’s need to protect her father from Zoya. He would need that protection.

  Zoya stared at Briec, apparently debating the pros and cons of all this when Talwyn suddenly pried the woman’s arms off her brother and said, “You need to see our mother before any decisions are made.”

  In panic, Gaius quickly glanced at Kachka, but she only smirked.

  “I do?” Zoya asked.

  “Oh, yes. She’s the queen and Talan is her favorite. You need to go to her before you do anything else. Right now. Right this second. And make sure you are bold and pushy. And make sure you’re in her face about taking her son. The queen likes confidence.”

  “Thank you, evil Abomination!” Zoya cheered, arms thrown wide. “Your help is truly appreciated!”

  “Tal—” Rhi began, but Briec placed his hand over her mouth to silence her.

  “I believe the females are down by the big lake.” He glanced over. Saw one of the squires walking by. “You there. Boy. Take this extremely large female down to your queen. Immediately.”

  The boy stared up at Zoya, his mouth open, before he finally nodded his head and started walking. Quickly.

  Zoya followed, the Khoruzhaya siblings, Tatyana, and Marina going with her while Nina toddled off in the opposite direction so she could deal with whatever wounds she had. Gaius had smelled the blood earlier, but thankfully he’d already eaten.

  “Aren’t you going to warn Zoya about Annwyl?” Gaius asked Kachka.

  “I didn’t invite her here, so . . . no.”

  Kachka tracked her sister down. Took a bit. She started off outside, assuming Elina was hunting. But she was in bed. Kachka was ready to be disgusted, but when she found her sister on top of that dragon, she understood more. When one had to fuck, one had to fuck.

  Without knocking, Kachka walked into the room her sister shared with no one but the dragon. Such a big room. Could get a whole tribe in here.

  “When you’re done,” Kachka said to her sister, “find me.”

  “Get out!” Celyn ordered, his body covered in sweat, his big hands around Elina’s waist, but the sisters ignored him.

  “Why are you back so soon?” Elina asked. She, too, was covered in sweat, her white-blond hair stretched down to her hips in drenched ringlets, her back straight, small tits out proud, nipples hard because of excitement. Yes. She’d been giving the dragon quite a ride. “You were to go off and face death after rounding up team.”

  “Woman!” the dragon snarled. “Get out of this room!”

  “Team I got,” Kachka replied to her sister, “but was sidetracked by your Iron friend. The one missing eye.”

  “The Rebel King?”

  “So many titles with these royals.”

  “Kachka,” her sister pushed.

  “Yes. Your precious Rebel King. He had been captured. We rescued him and I beheaded priestess.”

  “Good. I owe him.”

  “Well, your debt has been paid. Death almost had him, but he is healthy again.”

  “Get out!” the dragon roared.

  “Whine you do,” Kachka accused the dragon. “Like little boy.” She looked at her sister. “When you are done. Come. Meet team.”

  “I will.”

  Kachka began to close door and she heard the dragon sigh in relief, so she pushed the door back open. “One more thing—”

  “I will kill you!”

  “What?” Elina asked.

  “Zoya Kolesova invited self on trip.”

  “Gods, why?”

  “Because she is annoying. I wanted to warn you before she got you in hug. But we may not have to worry long.”

  “I am going to tear the walls of this castle down!”

  Elina covered her dragon’s face with her hand. “Why no worry?” she asked.

  “We came back with Annwyl’s boy. The pretty one.”

  “He is pretty.”

  “That’s my cousin,” the dragon complained behind Elina’s hand.

  “Well, Zoya has set her sights.”

  “She cannot be foolish enough to—”

  “She is foolish enough. Even now she goes down to lake to tell queen to give the boy to Zoya for one of her precious, oversized daughters.”

  “And you let her?”

  “I do not really like her.”

  “Kachka!” her sister chastised, pulling herself off the dragon’s cock, to his great anger.

  “Where the battle-fuck do you think you’re going?”

  “Zoya Kolesova is favored among her tribe, Kachka. If Annwyl takes Zoya’s head, the Kolesovas of the Mountain Movers of the Lands of Pain in the Far Reaches of the Steppes of the Outerplains will start war.”

  “We have alliance with the Anne Atli,” Kachka reminded her sister, and the look that Elina gave her was pointed and rude.

  Grabbing clothes off the floor, Elina said, “You are not stupid, sister. Who will stop the Mountain Movers? You? Me? Even the Anne Atli will not stop them. She will allow them to rain giant stones upon this ridiculous house!”

  “Then perhaps you will learn to live like you were meant to. Instead of whiling away hours in soft bed with this lizard.”

  “Hey!”

  “I was not whiling. I was fucking. I had needs!”

  “Och! You and your needs! Were you going to take a bath after?” Kachka taunted. “In your tub?”

  “Again with the tub!”

  “You look like decadent Southlander when you use it!”

  “I like it!”

  “Your weakness sickens me!”

  “Hey!” the dragon bellowed. “One of you needs to fix this!” he ordered, pointing at his hard cock, which was directed straight at the ceiling.

  Since Elina was just pulling on her boots, Kachka shrugged and began to walk toward him, but the dragon quickly held up a hand. “Not you! Her!”

  “But you said—”

  “Shut up!”

  Kachka studied the dragon’s human cock for a moment. “It is quite large, sister.”

  “I know.” She grinned. “It is almost too much for me. Almost.”

  The sisters laughed and now headed toward the door.

  “Are you really leaving?” the dragon demanded.

  “I must save Zoya Kolesova of the Mountain Movers of the Lands of the—”

  “Do not bore me with that ridiculous name, woman!”

  “Then why do you insist on asking me questions!” she shot back before walking out the door.

  Kachka winked at the incensed dragon and followed her sister into the hall.

  As they walked down the stairs, Kachka noted, “You torture that dragon greatly.”

  Her sister sniffed and glanced at Kachka. “I do?”

  Chapter Eight

  “Aren’t you freezing?”

  Annwyl glanced back at Morfyd, standing on the lake edge, her human form wrapped from head to toe in a white fur. Her human body always had a hard time adjusting to cold weather, even though spring was coming and the ice on the lake had already melted.

  But Annwyl was trying something new. She needed a bolt of fresh ideas. She thought sitting naked in this cold water would help her. That’s what Elina said the Riders believed.

  She was beginning to think the Riders were very, very wrong.

  “I’m fine,” Annwyl lied, wondering how much longer she should keep up this charade.

  Think of something new? She could barely think
about anything but stopping her teeth from chattering together until they broke into little pieces.

  “Annwyl, get your big ass out of that water this instant!” Talaith ordered. The fur around her shoulders was brown to match her fur boots and thick leggings.

  “But I’m—”

  “No! This instant!”

  With a sigh that was meant to sound put-upon but really was deep gratitude, she stood. She wanted to run back to shore, but she was going to walk. Like a proper royal who put herself in freezing water like an idiot. Especially with Dagmar also standing there watching. While the other two were bundled up, Dagmar didn’t have a fur on. “You call this cold?” the Northlander had asked. “Seriously?”

  Dagmar watched her with a smirk. She knew how miserable Annwyl was, but she was doing this thing lately. This thing where she just let Annwyl do whatever she wanted and then, when it blew up in her face, Dagmar smirked and, without saying a word, clearly stated with the expression on her face, Told you so, my queen.

  The cow.

  Annwyl was near the shore when she heard a voice call out, “You are Annwyl the Bloody?”

  She looked over and blinked in surprise before glancing back at Dagmar. “Thought you said the giants lived beyond the Ice Lands and wouldn’t help us.”

  Dagmar let out a small, annoyed sigh. “She’s not a giant.”

  Annwyl looked over again, took a moment to study the woman, then asked Dagmar, “Are you sure?”

  “She’s not a giant!” the Northlander snapped. She’d been getting real snappy lately, too.

  “Look,” one of the women with the giant pointed out, “she wears the mark of the beast on her arms and between her thighs.”

  Confused, Annwyl looked down at her thighs. She’d had Fearghus’s brands there for so long, she’d forgotten about them. They were just part of her now. Like her limbs. Like Fearghus. Not that he ever let her forget his presence. Ever.

  “She’s definitely the one.”

  “Oh, all right,” the giant said, appearing disappointed, but Annwyl had no idea why. She hadn’t done anything yet. She usually only disappointed people after she’d done something.

  “Is there something you want?” Annwyl asked.