“Away from you, you mean?”
“I’m the only one who can protect her!” Annwyl bellowed, pointing at herself. “There’s no one else who can protect her like I can!”
“You mean besides Talwyn herself?”
“I knew you’d throw that in my face.”
“You were the one who taught her to protect herself. You also taught the boy.”
“Can’t you call him by his name?”
“He irritated me today.”
“He irritates you every day.”
“Do you expect me to argue that point?”
“You know, our son really does—”
“Does? Does what?”
“Tolerate you more than others.”
“Thank you. I find that comforting when I wake up from an afternoon nap and find him hovering over me like an angel of death.”
“You’re being paranoid. But let’s be honest.”
“Oh, please let’s.”
“Talan is my son and Talwyn is your daughter.”
“Which means?”
“That you should be the one to talk to her.”
“I have.”
Annwyl stepped closer. “And?”
“She didn’t tell me anything she hasn’t already told you. But I know her, Annwyl. There’s something going on.”
“I knew it!”
“But there’s nothing to be done. She’s stubborn and contrary and determined . . . just like her mum. So I wouldn’t bother arguing with her.”
“I am not contrary.”
His eyes crossed and he rolled onto his back. “Of course you’re not.”
“I heard sarcasm in that statement.”
“Perhaps.” He motioned to her. “Come here, luv.”
Annwyl walked closer until she reached his open claw. She climbed onto that, then up his arm and onto his chest until she could stretch out stomach down, her head right under his snout. As always, she showed no fear of his dragonform.
“You know,” he reasoned, “instead of sitting around, worrying about things that may or may not be happening, why don’t you go do something that you might enjoy?”
She planted her hands against his chest and lifted herself up enough that she could look him in the eye. Then she grinned.
“I meant something relaxing with the children.”
“Oh.” She lowered herself back down.
“What I plan to do to you tonight will only be relaxing after we’re done.”
“Good to know.” Annwyl laughed and stroked her hands across his scales, something that Fearghus had always adored. “All right, so what should I do with the children? As it is, they’re never around.”
“Plan something for tomorrow, so they don’t have time to come up with an excuse, and start with Rhi. She always ropes in the other two. And bring that pale boy who’s been lurking around.”
“His name’s Frederik, and from what I hear he’ll be staying for a while.”
“Perfect. Take them for a picnic or something.”
“Will you come?”
“I’m off to Devenallt Mountain tomorrow with Gwenvael and Briec to meet with Bercelak.”
“Anything wrong?”
“No, not at all. Just time to look at Mum’s armies and see if we should be doing anything different. At least that’s the plan. What it really ends up being is Dad and Briec arguing, me sighing a lot, and Gwenvael pissing Dad off so much that at some point he has to duck a tail to the eye. To be honest, I’d rather be on a picnic with the pale boy.”
Annwyl rested her chin on her raised fist. “No Éibhear?”
“No Éibhear what?”
“He’s not coming to this meeting?”
“Why should he? He’s not in Mum’s army. He’s a Mì-runach.”
“I really don’t know what that means, although you all say it with that mix of disgust and horror in your voices.”
“It means he’s a violent bastard that can’t be trusted around the army. So, no. He won’t be there.”
“Personally, I think you’re all too hard on him. You’re still treating him like a baby. He’s a grown dragon now, Fearghus. Quite matured.”
“Yeah,” Fearghus snorted, not really seeing it. “Right. Quite matured.”
Izzy reached out blindly, her hand pressing against the stone wall of the room she always slept in any time she’d come to visit her Uncle Bram with Brannie. But to be honest, at this moment, she really had no idea where she was, why she was here, or even what her name was. At this moment, all she knew was that it was a stone wall her hand was pressing against and the biggest, most talented c*ck she’d ever had inside her was making her come. Again.
Her toes curled, and her hard breaths turned into a short scream, her body tightening around the male currently on top of her, kissing her, f**king her.
She hadn’t known it would be like this. She’d dreamed it would be like this, but she’d never thought it actually would be. Too many times, Izzy, Brannie, and often Brannie’s sisters talked about the potential some male had one day and the sad disappointment he turned out to be the next. Sometimes, one of them might be pleasantly surprised or damn happy. But this?
Gods, this . . .
Izzy tore her mouth away from Éibhear’s because she couldn’t breathe, that orgasm still ripping through her system. But pulling away was a mistake because Éibhear took the opportunity to nip the side of her neck. Something that she secretly adored. And, gods, once he’d discovered that, if she didn’t find other uses for his mouth, he drove her insane with the gods-damn nipping.
Whimpering, her body shaking, Izzy felt Éibhear bite down on a spot right beneath her ear and somehow, some way, the bastard got another orgasm out of her when the last one hadn’t quite finished.
As Izzy screamed out again, she was so glad that when this was all over, they wouldn’t be talking about it. They wouldn’t be analyzing it. Because if she thought about any of this too much, she’d end up back where she started at sixteen. Head over boots for a big blue bastard with gorgeous blue hair who couldn’t make up his bloody mind about what he wanted.
Izzy cried out again, her amazing legs tightening around his waist. Éibhear’s eyes crossed at the grip her legs had on him. He’d never known a female, human or dragoness, who had legs as strong as Izzy. Legs that held him so tight he was positive he saw stars.
He reached over and caught hold of the hand Izzy had pressed to the wall and pinned it against the bed. She whimpered when he did that. Gods, he loved when she whimpered. Just the sound of it made his toes curl.
Between the whimpering, the panting, the incredibly strong thighs, and the way her p**sy gripped his c*ck like the tightest fist he’d ever felt, Éibhear could say, with all honesty, that this was the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
He knew that now because he realized he’d been right all those years ago about Izzy. He might have been young, but he’d never been stupid, and he’d known from the beginning that she was trouble. Trouble wrapped up in long legs and a bright smile. Of course, it was even worse now because he felt no guilt. None. The longer he stayed inside her—and he had every intention of staying inside her all night—the less he cared about anyone or anything except what was happening between them at this moment.
So what if his brother thought of Izzy as his daughter? So what if all of Éibhear’s kin considered her a niece, a cousin, a grandchild? So what if she was the most feared general in all the territories? So what if she had feet as big as Annwyl’s? Who cared? He didn’t. Not anymore.
Éibhear pulled his mouth away from her neck and Izzy leaned up, pressed her forehead against his chin, then brought her mouth up and bit his jaw. At the same time, she tightened her p**sy so that he came hard, his entire body pinning her to the bed as he continued to f**k her until he was dry.
He clung to her for a bit before he finally rolled off. Both of them covered in sweat and panting, they lay there for a good ten minutes until Izzy finally admitted, “You know . . . still not out of my system.”
“Good,” Éibhear said as he rolled back on top of her, pushed his still hard c*ck inside her, and gasped out, “Because it sure as battle-fuck ain’t out of mine.”
Chapter 20
“Wake up.”
Éibhear turned over and snuggled back into the covers. He wasn’t ready to face the day yet and he definitely wasn’t ready to face the wrath of Izzy. He had a feeling it was coming. After their amazing night together, he was prepared for her not to be able to face the morning. But she wouldn’t put him off. Not forever.
“Get up,” Izzy pushed. “We have company.”
Éibhear rolled to his back. Izzy stood by the open stained-glass window. She was freshly bathed and dressed, her wet hair combed off her face. She must have gone to the lake behind the castle.
“Who?”
She shook her head. “No idea. But they’re armed. A small squad. Don’t see any colors, though.” She glanced at him. “They look like a protection unit.”
“They could be here for Bram.” He pushed the fur covering off and got up, walking nak*d over to the window to stand beside Izzy. She smelled wonderful. He wanted to kiss her good morning but decided against it. He wasn’t really in the mood to be pushed away at the moment.
“Do you recognize them?” Izzy asked.
“No.” He leaned in, sniffed the air. He smelled flame and power. “They’re dragons.”
“You sure?”
“I am.”
“But no one you recognize?” He shook his head and Izzy looked back at the small group of riders on horses, long brown capes and fur hoods covering their faces and bodies.
Izzy slid her foot under her sheathed sword, which was lying on the floor, and flipped it up into her hand. “I’ll take the ground, you take the air.”
He nodded. “I’ll meet you outside then.”
Izzy slipped out the side door of Bram’s castle. The previous evening, Éibhear had closed and barred the front door that led to the hall, and if she opened it, she’d give away her presence.
As Izzy eased out into the brisk morning air, she heard a soft “moof ” behind her and looked to see Macsen crawling up to her feet. Her dog had amazing instincts. Like a wolf, he knew when to keep to the shadows and when to attack. It helped when she was involved in night raids.
Body tense, he waited by her side, waiting for her signal. Izzy motioned with her hand, indicating he should stay by her side and low. With that order given, she crept forward, listening for anything that would tell her someone was coming from behind. She reached the end of the building and peeked around the corner. Now that she was a bit closer, she could see that these riders were trying their best to look like a small traveling party. The clothes under their capes were plain, not too expensive but not too poor. Yet she still saw that nearly all of them had weapons. A lot of weapons. And the way some of the riders moved . . . definitely soldiers.