“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Éibhear, who’d shifted back into human and graciously put on a pair of black breeches out of respect to Talaith, fairly ignored his brother as he tilted her head back a bit more to get at her wounded neck.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Don’t backtalk me. I asked you a question.”
“And I don’t see the need to answer it. As it is, I’m so angry at you right now, I don’t even want to see your face.”
“What are you talking about?”
Unable to stop herself, Talaith sucked her breath in between her teeth and cringed. Éibhear’s face softened as he looked at her.
“I’m sorry. This will only take a minute or so more.” By the gods…that voice! She nearly envied the woman who would wake up every morning to that voice greeting her. Of course, the silver dragon’s was nothing to sneer at. Only his made her think of dirty, dirty things.
“That’s all right. I’m fine.”
By sheer force of will, Talaith stood her ground while Éibhear gently smoothed on more cream. He said his sister, a fellow witch, had created it and that it would manage the pain of the rope burn on her neck. The blue dragon had been horrified when he realized his brother had not taken care of her wound. Of course, Talaith knew she would have never let the silver dragon get that close to her.
Plus it had completely “slipped” her mind that he’d asked her to remind him to care for her neck. The big bastard should have remembered without her reminding him.
All right, Talaith. Now you sound like a wife.
Éibhear motioned for her to lift up her hair as he moved around to get where the noose had dug into the skin behind the backs of her ears.
“Did you never think to treat this, big brother?”
By the startled look on the silver’s face, followed by the glare in Talaith’s direction, he remembered quite well their earlier conversation.
“She’d promised to remind me.”
“Remind you?” Éibhear stood behind her, but she heard the annoyance and outrage in his voice.
The gold leaned back on his haunches and shook his head. “How could you? You bastard.”
“Shut. Up.”
The gold glanced at her and winked. Cheeky idiot.
“Fine,” Éibhear went on. “I understand how that could slip your mind. But while I’m doing this,” he gently moved some of her stray hairs out of his way, “why don’t you introduce us, big brother?”
“Oh. Of course.” The silver cleared his throat, opened his giant maw to speak…but nothing came out.
Éibhear kept putting on the ointment, but the gold clearly expected his brother to introduce them properly. When he said nothing, the gold balked.
“Are you telling me you don’t know her name?” the gold demanded.
“Well, I, uh—”
Stepping away from her, Éibhear closed up the jar of ointment as she released her hair. Her eyes began to water from the pain and she wondered about the logic of allowing Éibhear to put that dragon-created junk on her human flesh. The dragon witch probably made it for something with scales.
Éibhear dropped the jar in a small bag he had with him. “He’s had her since yesterday.”
The gold’s eyes practically exploded from his head, then he burst out laughing.
Talaith said nothing as Éibhear pushed her hair off her face to examine a small scrape on her forehead. But she knew the silver didn’t appreciate the familiar move one damn bit. Good.
“It was an oversight,” her kidnapper gave by way of explanation.
Éibhear’s silver eyes locked on his brother. “I know her name. And I’ve known her about ten minutes.”
“I’m Gwenvael the Handsome,” the gold stopped laughing long enough to say. “At your service, m’lady.” He made a low, sweeping bow and the silver brought his tail down on the back of the gold’s head. “Ow! What was that for?”
“Accident,” the silver snapped. He turned back to Éibhear. “This is none of your concern, baby brother. I saved her, therefore she—”
“If you say,” she spit out between tightly clenched teeth, surprising them all, “I belong to you, one more time. I swear by all that’s holy I will scream these walls down.”
The three dragons silently stared at her. When she didn’t back down or look away, the gold fell into another fit of laughter that caused the silver to roll his eyes practically to the back of his head.
“Hungry, m’lady?” Éibhear asked as he stood beside her. It suddenly occurred to her the pain no longer plagued her.
She almost sighed in relief, but instead said, “Starved.”
He held his arm out. Like the rest of him, his arm was big and muscular. In fact, his human form was bigger than even the silver’s. “Then let’s get you fed.”
She took his arm gratefully, and they headed toward the exit. As she passed the silver, she stopped and looked up at him.
“And the name is Talaith, in case you were wondering.”
With that, the pair walked off, but she could still hear the gold’s hysterical laughter tormenting his brother.
* * *
After Briec slammed Gwenvael’s head into the floor a few thousand times, he shifted into human, yanked on a pair of breeches and boots and went in search of his human.
Talaith.
A very pretty name. It fit her. And he probably should have asked her what her name was…he just didn’t think of it. She’d never believe it, but the woman distracted him. To be honest, he was surprised he could remember his own name when in her presence.
Besides, it’s not like she took a breath long enough during her constant chatter to allow him to ask her much of anything. Especially important questions like who the hell she really was. He had no doubt she was truly a Nolwenn witch, but she was much more than that. So very much more.
It didn’t take long to track down the pair. Like all his kin, Gwenvael had set up several of the cave alcoves for the possibility of humans stopping by. He had several furnished with beds, chests for their clothes, bookcases. Whatever they may need. This particular chamber had a dining table and cooking pit. A lamb slowly roasted over the open flame while Talaith and Éibhear ate fruit, bread and cheese. When he walked in she was laughing, turned in her chair to face his brother. She looked…comfortable.
He stopped before reaching them and tried to understand this awkward new feeling. No. He wasn’t liking this one bit either. He felt it now every time he looked at her. The feeling that he’d give anything merely to hold her close.
Briec shook his head. Exactly what had this woman done to him? Damn Nolwenn witches. Apparently even the untrained ones cast spells.
His brother and Talaith looked up at his approach. And as soon as she saw him, her smile faded and her laughter died. She sat straight in her chair, turning to face the table.
He frowned at Éibhear in concern, but his brother merely raised an eyebrow as if to say, “What exactly did you expect?”
Briec sat one seat over from Talaith. He grabbed a fruit, put his feet up on the table, and proceeded to eat while watching her. She fussed with her hair, scratched her wrist and hand, and basically appeared uncomfortable.
What the hell am I doing wrong? Éibhear and Gwenvael never seemed to have these problems with humans. Especially female humans.
“So have you eaten well?”
She nodded without looking at him. “Yes.”
“What about that?” He motioned to the cooking meat.
Éibhear yawned and scratched the back of his head. “That’s for later tonight.”
Still Talaith didn’t refused to meet his gaze.
He motioned to the chamber exit with a nod of his head. In response Éibhear shook his head.
Briec barely caught his roar in time. “Éibhear, would you mind excusing us?”
“As a matter of fact, I would mind.”
“Don’t test me, little brother.” His patience was waning. Had been since he’d first set eyes on this woman. He’d had a vain hope they’d make it back to his den this evening and he’d be between her thighs before the suns rose the following day.
Clearly that wouldn’t be happening now.
Talaith laid her small hand over Éibhear’s much bigger one. Briec’s eyes narrowed, focusing on where their hands met. Another new feeling. Somewhat territorial, which belonged to all dragons when it came to their treasure, but something more. Something he didn’t like one bit.
“It’s all right, Éibhear,” she assured his blue-haired bastard, baby brother. “I’ll be fine.”
“All right then. But call me if you need me.”
If he didn’t know the snot-nosed little cretin was being sincere, he’d rip out his lungs.
With one last glare at Briec, Éibhear left. Once alone, Briec dropped his feet to the ground. “Talaith—”
“Oh. So you’re using my name…now that you actually know it.”
Briec sighed. “I simply didn’t think it was—”
“I don’t even know your name,” she cut in.
He blinked in surprise. “Really? I…I just assumed Éibhear would have told you by now.”
“Is that his job then? To make sure everyone knows your name since you don’t have the decency to introduce yourself?”
It appalled him he was allowing some human to speak to him like this. And it appalled him even more he cared he might have hurt her.
“Fine. My name is Briec. Briec the Mighty.” He truly did not appreciate the snorted laugh that followed his statement. “What’s so funny?”
“It just…” She cleared her throat. “It took me by surprise is all. I thought you’d be Briec the Silver like Éibhear is ‘the Blue’.”
“I was Briec the Silver. When I was much younger. But once you make a name for yourself that usually changes.”
“And what about Briec the Arrogant? That seems much more fitting.”
“It’s Briec the Mighty, little witch.”
“Mighty, huh? Did you give yourself that name?”
“No,” he practically spat in slow, measured tones. “I did not.”
“I was just asking. No need to get testy.”
He was glad to finally see her smile, he simply didn’t appreciate it was at his expense.
“Talaith, understand, I didn’t ask your name because—”
She turned suddenly in her chair to face him. “Are you physically unable to say you’re sorry?”
That stopped him cold. “Pardon?”
“The words, ‘I’m sorry.’ Are you unable to speak them?”
Briec thought for a moment. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever said it.” He thought a moment longer, then shook his head. “No. I’ve never said it before.”
“Isn’t it time you started? Just tell me you’re sorry instead of making all these excuses.”