Home > Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(37)

Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(37)
Author: G.A. Aiken

“Although we tell others he was killed in battle. Only the family knows the truth about his death.”

“And that truth will never leave me.”

She believed him and gave him a small smile. “My mother loved her father dearly. He protected her from her mother, and his death was a great loss to her.”

“Do you really think she only wants revenge? That she’d instigate a war with the Irons just for that reason?”

“My kin hold grudges like the ocean holds water. Forever, until a giant wave slams into the shore and devastates absolutely everything.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s wrong about this, Keita. You can’t say you don’t feel something barreling down on us.”

“I dreamed…”

“You dreamed…what?”

Keita shook her head. Was she really going to sit here and tell Ragnar about ridiculous dreams involving demon horses? What exactly did that have to do with the Irons anyway? “Forget it. But you’re right. I do feel something coming. But I also know my mother embraces war. The Elders have much less power when there’s a war.”

“And Esyld?”

“If my mother can use Esyld to get her war, she will—but I want to stop this before it goes that far. I need to protect the throne.” Ragnar sat up. “Gods, tell me you don’t think the Irons can be reasoned with.”

“I won’t know that until I meet with them.”

“Meet with them?”

“Calm down. I don’t mean now.”

“You better not mean ever.”

“I can’t promise that. If I get the opportunity—”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s so sweet of you to ask that like it’s not possible…even after meeting my kin.”

“Now the bigger issue—”

“There’s a bigger issue than your insanity?” Ragnar demanded, wondering what this female was thinking.

“Surprisingly—yes! And that bigger issue, of course, is what are we going to do with you?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, in the past when Ren and I—”

“Yes. Your perfect Ren. How could I forget him?”

“That sounded an awful lot like sarcasm, but I’m choosing to ignore it. Now, I’ve thought about this all the way from Devenallt Mountain. And we need a good, solid reason for you to be around me. You can’t just follow me like a puppy. So, after some thought, I think the best idea is for us to be lovers.” She smiled. “Isn’t that a lovely idea?” Gods! This female!

“What?”

She had the nerve to look insulted. “You don’t have to look so panicked. We can just fake it if it makes you more comfortable.”

“I’m not panicked—I’m trying to keep up.” He scratched his head as it dawned on him that she hadn’t said they would pretend to be lovers, which meant what exactly? “Do you want to be lovers?”

“Sure. Why not? You know, while we’re here.” She was truly trying to drive him into drinking every day until he blacked out, wasn’t she?

“It’s kind of a ‘two mountains, one boulder’ sort of thing,” she explained. “It will give us something fun to do while waiting to stop a war that may devastate our entire continent.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And,” she continued, smile widening, “everyone will be disgusted that I’m willing to lower myself to actually bed a barbarian lightning breather. A definite win-win, wouldn’t you say?”

“How is that a win-win?”

“They’ll all assume I’m doing it to torment my mother, not realizing my mother could give a blessed shit, which will draw the traitors out sooner rather than later. See? It’s brilliant.”

Ragnar began to rub his temples with one hand. “Let’s try this again.

Do you want to be with me?”

“You mean actually f**k you?”

Ale. He needed ale so badly right now. “Sure. Why not?” Keita leaned back and studied him. “Aye. I think I’d enjoy f**king you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is there something wrong with your chest?” Ragnar slammed his hand down, and Keita leaned farther away. “You don’t have scale fungus, do you?”

“I do not have scale fungus! If you want the truth, this is your fault!”

“My fault?”

“You stabbed me, and this damn thing hasn’t healed in two years. Did you use a poison on your tail?”

“Of course I di—” Keita abruptly stopped talking, her hand covering her mouth.

“You did, didn’t you? ” Ragnar bellowed. “ You did bloody poison me! ”

“It shouldn’t have lasted this long,” she argued while not trying very hard not to laugh. “I just rubbed it against an iustig plant before I—”

“Assaulted me?”

“If you want to be literal. But the itching should have stopped ages ago.”

“Well, it didn’t. Dammit, Keita! I thought I was losing my bloody mind.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Like hell you are.”

“No. Honestly. I am sorry.”

Ragnar shook his head. “Maybe we should talk about this later.”

“No, no.” Keita crawled into his lap, facing him, and pressed her hand against the scar. There was a shirt between her flesh and his, but he only felt Keita. “I am sorry, and I can get you an antidote.” He grunted, looking off.

“Don’t be angry with me now—we were just getting along. For once.” He still said nothing, and that’s when she asked, “Have you ever kissed as human?”

Was it possible for her to stay on one topic at a time? He didn’t think so.

“Once or twice.”

He’d been joking when he replied, but she winced, just a little. It was enough.

“Are you any good?”

“As a matter of fact—”

She raised her hand, cutting him off. “That’s all right. It’s not a large issue.”

She settled against Ragnar’s waist, her knees on either side of him. “I love kissing as human,” she explained. “I love f**king as human, too. Hope that won’t be a problem for you.” He again didn’t reply, not knowing what to think of any of this. “And the most important thing to remember is not to choke me to death with your tongue.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Although he was sure he would have sounded much ruder if he wasn’t panting just a little. But damn her, she was nak*d under that gown. He’d forgotten.

“Good.”

Keita closed the gap between them and pressed her mouth against his.

Small kisses at first, nothing rushed or too forceful. It surprised him how innocent those first few kisses felt. Taking his supposed “inexperience” to heart, she didn’t push him, simply continued with those small kisses, lengthening them by degrees. As each kiss grew in intensity, the damn itching of the scar she’d given him flared to life again. He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from scratching the area until there was blood.

“It’s all right,” Keita whispered against his mouth. “Just relax. You’re doing fine.”

No. He wasn’t doing fine. How could he concentrate on this kiss or any other when the itching was driving him beyond reason? He needed that damn antidote before he went any further.

Ragnar began to speak at the same time Keita came in for another kiss. Finding his mouth open, she slipped her tongue inside, brushed up against his. Ragnar’s body shuddered, and his hands unclenched so he could grip her waist and pull her closer to his body.

And that irritating scar on his chest? Momentarily forgotten.

The pious Lightning was a fast learner, his tongue boldly moving around hers while his arms held her tight against him.

Keita tilted her head to the side, relaxed into him, and let the kiss go on. Perhaps not much experience at this sort of thing while human, but definitely a quick learner.

Her body heated under her dress, her n**ples hardening, and her p**sy clenching with the need for something to fill it. When she started to squirm on his lap, Keita pulled out of their kiss.

Both panting, they stared at each other. Keita had no idea how long, it felt like hours.

“Keita!” she heard from near the fortress. It was her brother, Éibhear.

She closed her eyes and reached out to her brother with her mind.

What?

Where are you?

In the west fields. What is it?

Dinner in the hour.

And?

Well…I know you like to dress for that sort of thing, so I’m letting you know beforehand so you don’t yell at me later that I didn’t give you enough time!

Don’t get testy! I’ll be right there.

All right. Oh. And have you seen Lord Ragnar?

Why?

Vigholf was looking for him, and Briec, being a right bastard, said,

“Oh, you didn’t know? We took him down to the river and drowned him.” And Vigholf went for his weapon, and Fearghus said, “Do that, Lightning, and I’ll let my wench cut off the rest of your head.” And I said, “Can we not do this now?” And then I told Fearghus, “And don’t call Annwyl wench.” And he shoved me. So I shoved him back. And that really pissed him off, and then he and Briec ganged up on me. And I said, “I’m telling Mum!” And then they laughed at me, and I don’t think that was fair at all.

Keita’s baby brother went on, but it was the shaking beneath her that had her opening her eyes and staring at the warlord she had her arms wrapped around. The laughing warlord.

Éibhear, she cut in. Don’t let them worry you. I’ll be back in a bit.

Ragnar’s fine.

All right.

Her brother ended their communication, and Keita grabbed hold of Ragnar the Cunning by that one braid his brother no longer had.

“Ow!”

“Were you listening?”

“My gods, he whines so!”

She yanked.

“Ow!”

“How do you do that? How is that possible?” Only direct kin could hear each other’s thoughts.

Ragnar caught her hand and pulled it off his hair. “Neither of you shield your thoughts. Any good mage, this close, could hear you two like you were screaming in his ear. Especially with that level of whining.”

“My brother does not whine.” She grabbed his braid again, yanked.

“Ow!”

“Stay out of my head, warlord!”

“Try to control where your thoughts go, princess.”

“And that sounded like prince-ass!”

He smirked. “Are we going back before your baby brother starts sobbing?”

She pointed a warning finger at him. “Never, and I mean never, pick on my brother.”

“Isn’t he a little big to coddle?”

Keita slid off Ragnar’s lap and stood. “You will stay out of my head.”

“Why? What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing, but it’s rude and invasive. And as powerful as you claim to be, you should have as easy a time blocking out what you hear as you do hearing it.”

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