by G. A. Aiken
“Ailean.”
With a small bow of his head, “My Queen.”
“Now, now, Ailean. Is that title necessary between old friends? I’ll always be Addiena to you, yes?”
Unable to help herself, Rhiannon rolled her eyes and Bercelak gave a sharp tug on her chain to remind her that at the moment she was all contriteness and submission. It wasn’t easy, though. Especially when all she really wanted to do was punch her mother in the face.
“You know, Addiena, I had to take this opportunity to see you again. It’s been so long.”
Her mother practically melted at Ailean’s words and Rhiannon’s heart went out to her long-dead father. She could only hope he had or would meet his true life mate in the next world since clearly he hadn’t in this one.
“I’ve missed seeing you, Addiena,” Ailean continued. His voice was like the sweetest honey. Low and deep, making anyone listening think about fucking. Lots and lots of fucking. “Gods, you’re still so beautiful. But . . .”
“But? But what?” And Rhiannon could hear the desperation in her mother’s voice.
“Would you shift for me? Would you show me your human form once again? I did always love looking at you as human.”
Rhiannon didn’t turn around, but she felt the flames heralding her mother’s shift. Now she was as human as Rhiannon, shocking her daughter. It may have been centuries since last the bitch shifted to human.
The guards, clearly also concerned by this sudden event, moved closer to their queen.
“I thought you’d come to see me much sooner than this, Ailean.”
“I know. But with fifteen offspring to raise, I lacked time. My mate needed me.”
Addiena snarled and suddenly her mother moved in Rhiannon’s line of sight. Gods, the old bitch was beautiful as human. Perhaps even more beautiful than Shalin . . . and how that must have nettled her mother no end.
“Ah, yes. Your mate,” she sneered. “How is dear Shalin?”
“She is well. And very happy.”
Addiena’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Rhiannon knew they were quickly running out of time. “Is she?”
“Aye.” Ailean stepped in front of the queen. His big hands reached out and gently caressed her face, her neck, and although her mother did her best to keep her growing anger hot, apparently she couldn’t ignore how those hands stroking her made her feel.
Rhiannon watched silently as Ailean kissed her mother’s forehead, her cheeks, her nose while he slowly stepped forward. Lost to the feel of him, Addiena didn’t even pay attention to where he led her.
“You know, Addiena, Shalin always regretted how the two of you ended your friendship.”
Friendship? What bloody friendship? Damn! And things were just getting interesting!
“That was her choice, Ailean. How was I to know she wanted you for herself?”
“That no longer matters, my dearest. But she did send you a gift.”
Leaning her head back so that Ailean could kiss her throat, “Gift? What gift?” she moaned.
Leaning forward now that Ailean had maneuvered the female directly in front of her, Rhiannon whispered, “Why, my Queen”—the chain held tightly in both hands, Rhiannon wrapped the heavy silver around her mother’s throat and yanked her close—“this gift!”
The guards attacked immediately but Ailean shifted and he and Bercelak faced them together.
Flames rose up from her mother, but immediately sputtered out.
Using nearly the same spell Addiena used on Rhiannon, Shalin imbued the chain so that the bitch couldn’t shift.
Her mother knew it, too, based on the sudden and brutal fight she put up, clawing at her daughter’s arms and face.
Growling, Rhiannon pulled her away from the fighting dragons and over to a corner. “Come, mother, let us discuss this in private.”
Bercelak had to hand it to his father. The man could seduce the dragon gods out of their gold if he set his mind to it. He’d thought it was a long shot that Ailean would still be able to affect the queen as he once did. But he did all he’d promised. He’d gotten Addiena to shift to human and had maneuvered her close enough to Rhiannon so that she could use the chain his mother had given them just that morning.
When his mother had woken them up yesterday morning with words of “a plan,” Bercelak had felt a little wary. Left to their own devices, who knew what crazy nonsense his kin would come up with. And when he heard the plan, he thought, “See . . . crazy kin means crazy plan.” Yet it had worked. His father’s seductive ways still held true. Thank the gods.
While the guards stayed focused on the three of them and the queen, they never saw his siblings slip into the Queen’s Hall, using the shadows to their advantage. Prepared for battle, they moved as soon as Rhiannon wrapped that chain around the queen’s throat.
The queen’s guards, some of them his own comrades, really thought they could beat the low-born family with their well-trained ways. Bercelak snorted at the idea as he twisted one dragon’s head around until the bones cracked, breaking into pieces, while his tail impaled another dragon, attempting to sneak up behind him, under the chin. Growing up with Ailean the Wicked as a father prepared all of his offspring for any kind of battle. He’d trained each of them at hatching to fight any and all in their way. And even though his sisters were definitely a little more gently treated than the males of his kin, they were much more brutal and Bercelak winced when two of his sisters ripped a dragon to pieces between the two of them.
He turned and searched for Rhiannon. He trusted his mother’s Magicks, but he didn’t know how strong or weak her skills in comparison to the queen’s.
Quickly, he located his mate and her mother over in a corner. Rhiannon still had the bitch by the throat with that chain, which meant she still couldn’t shift. But five of the queen’s guards were advancing quickly and Rhiannon couldn’t fight them off or run with her mother in her arms. Besides, he knew his Rhiannon . . . she’d never run.
Storming across the hall, Bercelak batted bigger dragons out of his way like they were toys. Nothing would keep him from reaching Rhiannon.
He grabbed two guards around the neck, yanking them back and throwing them at his brothers who’d followed him over. He went for two others, but suddenly a small troop of battle-dragons attacked him, swarming over him en masse.
Desperately he fought, trying to get to Rhiannon. He saw the queen’s guard begin to move again and the grim determination on her face. Then her arms jerked to the right, the sounds of bones cracking reaching Bercelak’s ears. As the dragons approached her, Rhiannon suddenly let out a sigh. For a brief moment, he thought one of them had run her through with the tip of his tail. But flames, bright white flames, swirled around her and then Rhiannon was Rhiannon the White Dragonwitch. Most powerful dragonwitch in the land. And now . . . Queen Rhiannon.
Her power fully free, her dragon-form back, she lifted her head and, with a powerful roar, unleashed a line of flame that singed the rocky ceiling above her head.
Everyone stopped fighting and all eyes focused on her.
She kicked out with her front claw and her mother’s limp human body, the neck broken, flew across the hall floor and slammed into the opposite wall.
Bercelak’s cock stirred as Rhiannon’s blue eyes met on the eyes of her court.
Rhiannon had never felt so strong, so alive before. Power, power of the gods, flowed through her veins when it never had before. Even her dragon-form was bigger. All these years she thought she was just tiny, a runt. No. Clearly her mother had been holding her back . . . but no longer.
She stared at the dragons of her court. She was Queen now. It was now her turn to rule.
But first. . . .
With a short chant, she released a line of white flame imbued with powerful Magicks. Like a snake, it slid around the hall, avoiding Bercelak and all of his kin until it reached each of the old queen’s guard. With lightning-like precision, she tore into them, leaving nothing but a pile of ash and som
e burnt scales.
The others, the ones whose loyalty was to the current queen, rather than to Addiena herself, watched in horror, most likely waiting for her to go after them next. But she had no intention of killing those loyal to the throne. They just needed to remember who the throne now belonged to.
“My mother is dead,” she said flatly to the survivors. “I am your queen. Bow to me now and show me your undying allegiance or leave Devenallt Mountain and Dark Plains forever and hope I never see you again in this life.”
She thought there would be moments of waiting while people decided. There wasn’t. As one, they all bowed before her.
All except one.
Bercelak stood tall and stared at her, not bothering to hide his smile. She motioned for him to kneel, trying her best to look suitably haughty. He smirked in return. So, with everyone else’s head bowed in supplication, she took a moment to stick her tongue out at him.
He laughed loud and long, scaring everyone else—even his family—nearly to death.
Bercelak walked with his father, now in dragon-form, for the trip down to the entrance of Devenallt Mountain. “Sure you won’t stay for awhile?”
“No, lad. Your mother waits.” He grinned. “And I don’t like to keep her waiting . . . much.”
Shaking his head, Bercelak mirrored his father’s grin. “Gods forbid you leave a female waiting.”
“Only one female now. Just like you.” His father glanced back into the cave as if to assure they were truly alone. “Although I wouldn’t wait too long, boy. She is still unclaimed and there were many who watched her with eager eyes.”
“She’s beautiful, so I’m not surprised. But I’ll not give her up.”
“Of that I have no doubt. Your lust comes off you in great waves when she’s around.”
“True. But still, tradition dictates I wait until the next full moon.”
“Don’t be a fool, boy. She’s queen. You two make tradition. So do what you like, eh?”
Bercelak nodded in agreement, then took a large breath and said, “Thank you, Father. For all your help today.”
His father waved his words off with his claw. “You’re my offspring, Bercelak. No words of thanks are ever needed.”
“Well, I’ll say this then . . . I no longer detest you.”
Laughing, his father slammed his claw against his son’s back. Anyone else would have toppled from the mountain with a snapped spine but Bercelak, as always, stood strong. If for no other reason, he’d rather not hear his father’s mocking laughter following him down. “Now that’s good news indeed! Your mother, at least, will be very happy.”
“But you . . .”
“Could care less. I only want my children strong enough to survive these times.” The old dragon grinned and Bercelak saw his rows and rows of fangs that grew as age came upon them all. “And since you are now consort to the queen, I’d say I’ve done my job, wouldn’t you?”
Bercelak nodded. “Aye. That you have.”
“Then, my strong son . . . you best Claim that deadly wench of yours or lose her forever.”
With those words, Ailean the Wicked took to the air and back to Bercelak’s mother. Shalin . . . the Tamer of Ailean the Wicked.
Bercelak turned and headed back to the Queen’s Hall. As he passed other dragons, they greeted him but none challenged him. Instead they kept their eyes turned away. Except for some of the females who openly showed their lust. Apparently the fact that he hadn’t Claimed Rhiannon caught their interests as well.
Many of his brothers and sisters waited for him in the Hall. They would stay until Rhiannon’s reign was secure. The best fighters of his kin, including Ghleanna, had gone off to confront Rhiannon’s siblings. They would not wait for them to come to her.
“Everything all right?” he asked his remaining siblings.
They all nodded, but Addolgar motioned up the many stairs that led to what would now be Rhiannon’s bedchamber . . . his bedchamber.
“She’s gone up. Lots of activity with the servants since she went up there, too.”
Bercelak nodded as he stared up that long corridor. Strange how he suddenly felt a little . . . well, nervous. A Battle Lord who’d faced death on many, many occasions made nervous by one white dragon?
Then again . . . what if she’d changed her mind? True, they’d already been lovers but she could, in theory, make a case with the Elders. The thought that she may have changed her mind chilled the blood in his veins. He couldn’t lose her now.
Of course there was only one way to find out what she thought. And that was to face her head on, as his father had trained them all to do with every challenge.
“Worried she changed her mind?” Addolgar asked.
“It’s not an unreasonable thought.”
“Aye. Perhaps. But you’ll never know until . . .”
“I know. Until I face her.”
“The worse she can do, brother, is turn you to ash.”
Bercelak looked at his kin and his brother merely smiled.
“Bastard.”
With that last word, Bercelak headed up the stairs to his future.
Chapter 12
Bercelak walked into the queen’s chamber only to find it empty. Completely empty. Which seemed strange. He figured Addiena would at least have a treasure to rest upon.
Personally, he found lying on gold and jewels rather uncomfortable.
“Ah, my lord . . . the queen has moved chambers.”
Bercelak turned to look at who spoke to him, but he didn’t see anyone.
“Down here, my lord.”
He looked down and his eyes widened in surprise. This was no dragon in human form, but a human . . . sort of. It was actually a centaur. A female. Quite pretty—although she smelled like horse. Which made him a tad hungry.
“And you are?”
“I am attendant to the throne, my lord.”
“I’ve never seen you before.”
“I often stay in the shadows . . . as you can imagine, my lord.” She glanced at her hindquarter which was . . . well . . . a horse’s hindquarter. “It is much safer for me that way.”
With an understanding smile, Bercelak nodded his head. “I understand.”
“Please, my lord. Follow me. She’s waiting for you.”
“Is she armed?”
The centaur’s head tilted to the side. “I’m sorry?”
“Never mind.” He motioned to her. “Go. I will follow.”
She did and he admired the beauty of Rhiannon’s servant. Her hair and hide were a dark brown, but her eyes were a startling blue. Her long hair covered her chest, so she wore nothing but her skin and hide. How he’d never seen her before, he’d never know. But centaurs had strong Magicks, so perhaps she could protect herself from the dragons’ keen senses.
She stopped outside a smaller but still enormous chamber. “She is inside, my lord.”
“Thank you.”
With a small smile, the centaur said, “I will make sure no one disturbs you at least until morn.”
Bercelak chuckled and said again with much sincerity, “Thank you.”
Then she was gone. Just like that. Bercelak looked around but he couldn’t see her anywhere.
Interesting, but of no real concern. Besides, he had bigger issues at the moment.
With a deep intake of breath, Bercelak entered the new queen’s chamber.
“Rhiannon?”
He couldn’t see her anywhere. But he did see the enormous bed she had set up in one corner. That made him smile. Seemed his princess had come to enjoy the benefits of a human body.
On a whim, he shifted to human and walked toward the bed. “Rhiannon? Where are you?”
He reached the bed and looked down at the animal skins covering it. He felt his cock harden at the thoughts of what he planned to do to his princess in this bed. What he planned to do to her for hundreds of years if all went as planned.
“Rhiannon?” he called again.
Suddenly she slam
med into his back, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. She was human and deliciously naked.
“Ha!”
It took him a moment, but he realized Rhiannon was . . . well . . . attacking him.
Grunting, she had firm hold of his neck and actually tried to throw him on his back.
“What in bloody hell are you doing?” He wasn’t angry. Just greatly perplexed.
“What?” she panted as she did her best to drop him to the floor. “You thought this Claiming would be easy? You’ll have to fight for me!”
The fact she couldn’t get him to budge or even wind him, seemed to irritate her as she growled in his ear. Of course, the sound only made his cock pulse in time to his heart and lust.
Crossing his arms over his chest and bracing his feet apart, “Didn’t I just fight for you?”
“No. You fought for your queen, who is me. But in order to Claim Rhiannon the dragoness . . . you’ll have to fight me.”
“Oh. Is that right?”
“Well, you didn’t think I’d just roll over, did you?”
“Actually I was hoping for an on-all-fours sort of thing.”
“You’ll have to do more than hope, Low Born.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” she said with her usual dose of arrogance.
With a smile, Bercelak reached back with one arm, his forearm stretching over her and his fingers taking tight hold of her under her armpit. With a smile, he flipped her over his shoulder and slammed her onto the bed.
“I win!” he cheered.
Bastard!
She should have been much sneakier. She forgot the stories his siblings told her about Ailean’s way of raising his offspring. When she slammed into his back, although she knew he never sensed her coming, the big ox never even moved. She could have been a fairy or a piece of dust from the way she affected him.
Gods, she loved him.
She looked up into his smiling face. He’d knocked the wind out of her by slamming her on the bed so hard, but she really had no one to blame but herself.
He moved closer but his big feet hit something under the bed and he glanced down only to look back at her with a huge grin. He did that a lot now, and she loved it.
