Supernatural Bundle

by Jacquelyn Frank

  “Lovely.”

  “Don’t you prefer knowing the truth?”

  “I’d prefer that you fuck off.”

  She felt his hand on her shoulder. “Talaith, I only told you the truth because I felt you should know exactly how much your only daughter loves you. How much she was willing to sacrifice for—”

  The back of Talaith’s fist met his throat, crushing part of it with the force of her move.

  The god bent over, coughing and laughing. She could hear the bones and cartilage that she’d crushed immediately repairing themselves. As she stormed away, he was once again able to speak.

  “Don’t go away angry, Talaith,” he said, still laughing at her. “I was only trying to help.”

  Talaith walked quickly back into Garbhán Isle, pushing past soldiers and servants. She needed to find Izzy. She needed to apologize, to beg her to forgive her foolish mother for letting another god manipulate her.

  The crowd moving entirely too slowly for her at the moment, Talaith cut behind the stables and around toward the front gates where she knew Izzy had run. She’ll head to Dark Glen. She’ll head to Annwyl. And Annwyl would hold her there until Talaith found them. Feeling more and more desperate about her daughter, Talaith began to run. She’d nearly cleared the last stable when something barreled into her. Talaith’s feet went out from under her and her body pitched forward, but strong hands grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back.

  “Sorry about that,” a woman said kindly. Talaith saw worn boots covered in mud and an even more worn brown cape scraping the ground. The hood of the cape covered the woman’s face, but Talaith barely spared one of Annwyl’s warriors another glance.

  “You all right?” the woman asked. If Talaith had a moment, she would have heard the concern in that voice, but her daughter was all that mattered.

  “I’m fine.” She removed the hands still on her waist and took off running, a sudden, horrible fear for her daughter nearly choking her.

  Gwenvael had no weapons, no armor, and no spiked tail—and if he survived, he’d make sure to yell at his brothers about it, too—but the Lightning trying to kill him had all those things.

  He sent out a call to Addolgar, knowing he was closest to Fearghus’s den, but he still had Izzy to worry about. He didn’t have the time to wait for the others to get to them, so he’d simply have to risk his pretty face.

  The sword flashed and Gwenvael jumped back, gripping the tree next to him. As the blade missed him by inches, he lifted the tree and tore it from the ground. He swung it and it slammed into the blade as it was making a return trip. The sword cut through the trunk with ease, and Gwenvael knew his head would be next. So he threw the remains of the tree into the face of the Lightning. It shoved the big bastard back, and Gwenvael rammed into him, dropping both of them to the ground.

  Desperate, he grabbed hold of the Lightning’s sword arm and held it down. That’s when the bastard caught hold of his hair and snatched his head back, his spiked tail cutting at his snout.

  Immeasurably pissed off—more about his hair than his face—Gwenvael brought his own tail down, feeling around the bastard’s armor. He remembered from his combat days against the Lightnings that their armor didn’t connect underneath as Southland dragon armor did. It was, in fact, wide open.

  With that firmly in mind, Gwenvael slid his tail underneath the Lightning’s armor and right between his legs.

  Panicked, the Lightning tried to move out from under him, but Gwenvael held tight and, wrapping his tail around the bastard’s cock—he yanked.

  “You mother—”

  He wouldn’t release her. Merely carried her around in his tail like a treat or his favorite pet.

  The Lightning sniffed the air and his lip curled. “All I smell are damn Fire Breathers. It’s like they’re everywhere.” His head turned and he moved his tail, which he now had wrapped around her waist, closer. “Now where’s me son, pet?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I—”

  The tail slammed Izzy into the ground twice before lifting her back up. “Don’t lie to me, female! Where is he? Tell me now!”

  Dazed, Izzy shook her head.

  “You won’t tell me?”

  Tell him what? Who was talking? Where was she again? Oh, look…pretty colors!

  “Let me guess. That Gold bedded you a few times and now you think he loves you? That he’ll protect you?” His tail retracted, and Izzy fell several feet, her body landing hard. The colors multiplied and she could see nothing past them. “You humans are such pathetic fools.” He grabbed hold of her sword with his tail and tore it off, tossing it into the trees.

  “Do you really think some little whore like you would be important to any dragon?”

  “She’s not some little whore,” her mother said, stalking from the base of the hill she’d just come over as Izzy’s senses came back to her with stunning clarity. “She’s Iseabail, Daughter of Talaith and Briec.”

  The Lightning leered down at Talaith. “Are you another pet?”

  “I’m her mum.” Talaith raised her right fist. “The most dangerous bitch you’ll ever meet.” She opened her hand and white flame shot from her palm, striking the dragon in the face.

  He screamed, his claws covering his head, and Izzy quickly got to her feet.

  “Izzy!” her mother yelled. “Run!”

  “Oh, no!” The dragon’s tail slammed down in front of Izzy. “You’re not going anywhere, little whore!”

  He spun to face her, his scales singed by her mother’s flames and his tail lashing out at Talaith.

  She watched as his maw opened up and Izzy immediately grabbed hold of the shield still strapped to her back, swinging it down in front of her body. Lightning strikes blasted from his mouth and rammed into the molded metal.

  Izzy squealed, the power of the lightning lifting her off her feet and flipping her back into the forest even as the bolts ricocheted back to their owner.

  Dagmar ran, her memory of the Dark Plains maps she’d created for herself leading her. She knew she’d never get back to Garbhán Isle and she wouldn’t risk leading the Horde dragons to Fearghus’s den and the twins. She’d nearly caused their death once; she wouldn’t do it again. So she headed toward a very small lake that Gwenvael’s kin never used for fear it was slightly tainted.

  The Lightning dragons laughed and crashed after her, tearing the forest apart as they did.

  “Come here, little human,” one of them said, and she felt his claw swipe down to grab her. She ducked and changed course toward a large tree and one of her “test” defenses that Brastias had been so against.

  Dagmar slipped around the tree and quickly untied the rope from the metal spike stuck into the wood. The dragons came into range as she released the rope on one of her favorite defenses and the huge trunk swung free.

  The Lightnings were quick, their heads turning at the same time, and they both stepped back, the trunk swinging past them.

  Unimpressed, they watched it swing back and forth until it stopped.

  One of them snorted. “Ya can’t be serious, lass. Do ya really think—”

  The ground fell out from underneath them and both dragons let out startled cries as they fell into the deep pit.

  Dagmar bent down and grubbed around in the soft soil by the tree. It took longer than she’d have liked, but she found the small box she’d planted there and held it close to her chest. Letting out a breath, she walked over to the edge of the pit and stared down.

  “You crazed bitch!” one of them yelled up at her.

  They couldn’t climb out; there was nothing to cling to. And flying had become impossible because of the oil they’d fallen into. A special mix that Talaith devised one afternoon under Dagmar’s direction that saturated them so their wings could do no more than hang limply from their backs.

  Dagmar crouched beside the pit. “Do you know what my favorite word of the day is, my lords? It’s ‘seams.’”

  She opened the small box an
d pulled out one of the simple, small sticks Morfyd had given her. “I don’t mean as in ‘He seems to be a prat.’ More like ‘The seams of my dress,’ or ‘The seams between a dragon’s scales.’”

  Dagmar held up the slim stick. “I got this from a witch. They know all sorts of things. It really is amazing what you learn when you become a…what was it you called me?” She struck the slightly larger head of the stick against a rock and a small flame flared to life. “Ahh, yes. ‘Pet.’”

  Dagmar held the burning stick over the pit.

  “Don’t,” one of them begged.

  “But as a fellow Northlander…you already know I will.” She opened her hand and the small stick fell. It grazed against the side of the pit—it, too, saturated with oil—and the tiny flame led to an eruption that tore down the wall and right into the pit.

  The dragons screamed as the flames followed the oil under their scales to their flammable flesh beneath.

  It was hard to hear over their screams, but the crackling told her to move and move now.

  Dagmar did, standing and tripping backward on the hem of her gown.

  Flames shot up into the sky and she turned to run, but scaled forearms grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close.

  “Head down, love,” Addolgar ordered, and then his wings surrounded them as he turned and everything in the pit exploded in a shower of flame and lightning.

  Talaith wasn’t surprised when Izzy got back to her feet so quickly. She’d, thankfully, taken after her birth father’s side of the family—all of them quite hearty. But the sight of Izzy springing back from her dance with lightning, did nothing but piss off the old dragon who’d barely avoided his own strikes coming back at him as they were reflected by the shield.

  Wanting them both dead now, he attacked Izzy with his tail and unleashed more lightning strikes at Talaith. She raised her hand, the shielding spell coming to her immediately. It wasn’t as powerful as she would have liked and only absorbed the lightning strikes rather than turning them back on its sender. She didn’t have time to worry about that, though, as she grabbed her dagger from the sheath tied to her thigh. Oh, how she wished she could tell her daughter to run and hide, but they simply didn’t have that luxury.

  The dragon swiped at Talaith with his claw and she dodged under and around it. He went for her again and Talaith neatly sidestepped the grasping appendage.

  She was at his side now and she could see Izzy slam her foot on top of the dragon’s tail. With the heavy shield braced in her hands, Izzy looked at her mother.

  Talaith nodded once and yelled up at the dragon, “That all you can do, you old bastard? That all you have in you?”

  The dragon swung a fist at Talaith as Izzy held the Lightning’s tail in place long enough to bring the sharp edge of her shield down, severing the three-foot-long sharpened metal tip from the scale-covered muscled portion.

  The dragon roared, his fist missing Talaith completely. Outraged, he slammed his bleeding tail down again and again, trying to crush a running and dodging Izzy.

  Talaith thought he’d give his full attention to Izzy, but he was no fool. He reached down again, trying to grab Talaith. Debating her next move, she saw Izzy pick up the tip of the dragon’s tail, readying to use the spiked piece as her weapon.

  Impressed beyond reason, she bellowed, “Izzy!” Talaith quickly leaned back as swiping talons came entirely too close, the tip of one grazing along her chin. “Run and jump!”

  Gwenvael snatched the sword from the Lightning’s claw and stood, his tail still wrapped around the bastard’s cock. He used it to throw him across the glen. Charging after him, Gwenvael went up in the air and came down with the sword in both claws. The blade tore through the Lightning’s hard skull and out the back.

  Twisting it, he yanked it free and ran back toward Izzy and Talaith, intent on saving them.

  But as he slid to a stumbling stop beside Addolgar and his cousins, his mouth fell open. He’d be the first to admit this wasn’t what he expected to see. Nor did his kin, based on the way they watched but didn’t intervene.

  He felt a small tap on his leg and looked down at Dagmar. Her clothes were covered in soot, which seemed strange, even for her, and his tail automatically wrapped around her legs as she took hold of one of his talons. Together they all stood and watched.

  Talaith grabbed hold of Olgeir’s talon as it tried to rip her open, that damn blade of hers caught between her teeth as the Lightning’s claw rose. When he realized he had something attached, he lifted it to get a closer look and Talaith dropped from his talon to his snout. She landed on her knees and brought the blade down hard where two of his scales met tightly. Only a human as well trained as Talaith could hit that mark, the Lightning screaming in pain and rearing back on his haunches. Talaith stayed on his snout merely by holding onto the blade she’d impaled him with.

  That’s when Gwenvael’s niece ran up the Lightning’s back, sliding down when he went on his haunches, but charging forward again when he slammed back down to the ground. She ran, and she kept running.

  Up the Lightning’s back she charged until she’d reached the top of his head. That’s when she used her right foot to lift off, her body forced away from the Lightning. Then, in midair, she turned with her arm going back at the same time, then forward as she faced the bastard. Is that a…? Yes. It was the tip of a dragon’s tail. That dragon’s tail. And she used it to tear into Olgeir’s eye, his roaring screams causing every dragon in an eighty league radius to flinch in empathy.

  But Izzy always had strength and power and she used it to drive that tip straight past his eye and the bluntly hard dragon’s skull, right into Olgeir’s brain.

  The screams abruptly ended and the Lightning appeared dazed. He stumbled forward, stumbled back, and then his big body was falling. With both Izzy and Talaith still on the highest point.

  Gwenvael went to catch them, but Addolgar held him back. He was glad, too. Otherwise, he would have missed the beautiful way mother and daughter took their leave of Olgeir. Talaith waited until the dragon neared the ground before jumping off and away, her body rolling effortlessly from him until she was right back to her feet. Even more impressive was that she still held her dagger, having pulled it out at the last second.

  Izzy was a bit more flamboyant, releasing her hold on the dragon’s tip and letting her body fall. When her feet touched Olgeir’s forearm, she pushed off and backflipped away from the dragon. His knee tapped her on the way down so she flipped again, her head almost slamming into the ground. But she was a fast girl and her hands hit the ground first, pushing her off yet again. Three more backflips and she was standing by Gwenvael.

  Panting, she smiled up at him. And, of course, she waved. “Hello, Gwenvael!”

  He beamed back at her, loving his little niece more than he thought possible. “Izzy. Having a good day?”

  She peeked at her mother and when Talaith blew her a kiss, her grin grew much wider. “It’s getting better.”

  Chapter 34

  Ragnar stepped past the doorway, the afternoon suns blazing down on his head. The Southland Dragon Queen stood next to him. They’d made their deal, and now the hard part would begin.

  “Back to the Northlands, then?” she asked.

  “Yes. I have many arrangements to make.”

  “And your father?”

  “Will be a problem, but not my only one. There are others who hope to rule as well. They’ll need to be dealt with.” He exhaled. “But first…my father.”

  And that’s when the land shook as Olgeir the Wastrel crash-landed in the middle of the courtyard.

  “Sorry,” someone yelled from above. “Lost me grip!”

  That Gold dragon he’d sent Dagmar off with dropped to the ground beside the corpse. “It’s all right,” he called back up. “You didn’t hit anyone.”

  The Gold lowered himself to the ground and three females slipped off his back, one of them Dagmar. Ragnar was so relieved to see her, he didn’t have words.


  The Dragon Queen’s children rushed from the Great Hall to the courtyard stairs. “What the hell is this?” the arrogant, silver-haired one demanded.

  A young girl pointed excitedly at Olgeir’s body. “Daddy! Look what Mum and I did!” She held up Olgeir’s horns. “And Addolgar gave me these! He said I could wear them on my helmet as a sign of honor!”

  Bercelak the Great leaned against the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. “This is awkward,” he said with a definite smirk.

  The girl stared up at Ragnar, suddenly asking, “Do you know him?”

  Rhiannon leaned forward and whispered quite loudly, “It’s his father, dear.”

  Horrified, she said, “Gods. I’m so sorry.”

  The other human female, browner than the first but smaller, pushed the girl toward the stairs. “Let it go, Izzy.”

  “I didn’t know.” The girl held up his father’s horns when she reached the step Ragnar stood on. “Do you want these back? Or his tail?”

  “Izzy!” The woman pushed her into the Great Hall. “Stop talking.”

  “And what have you been up to?” the Silver snapped at the females. “First you don’t want her fighting at all, and now you’re throwing her into battles with this idiot’s father!”

  “Don’t yell at me! It’s not like we had a choice!” She nodded at Ragnar. “Sorry about your father.” She marched into the Great Hall. “And just shut up about it, Briec!”

  “I will not!”

  The Gold shifted to human and brazenly walked naked up the stairs past Rhiannon. “Mother of my heart!” He stopped by Ragnar. “Liar monk.”

  “Ruiner.”

  He glanced back at Dagmar who was making her patient, cautious way up the stairs. “Go near her,” the Gold said low, “and I’ll let Talaith and Izzy do to you what they did to your father.”

  Ragnar raised a brow as the Gold slung his arm over Bercelak’s shoulders.

  “Father! I need to fill you in on a new fighting technique I’ve discovered. Come. Let me tell you all about it.”