She led him up a ridge that looked out over one of the many lakes in this territory. It was a quiet place, and he thought she’d chosen well until she stopped, tilting her head, and put her finger to her lips. “I think I hear someone,” she whispered.
Together they continued up the ridge, but kept quiet. Éibhear had the distinct feeling the duke’s daughter was a bit of a snoop. He’d have to tell Dagmar. She might prove useful to his brother’s mate. Dagmar did like snoops.
As they neared the top, they dropped to the ground and crawled the rest of the way, both laughing a little as they did.
But Éibhear’s laughter died in his throat when he saw it was Izzy by the lake—and she was alone with Celyn. Even Branwen was nowhere to be seen. Only that damn puppy he’d already told her twice to return to Dagmar.
Did she not hear a word he’d said? Did she not understand anything?
And was she stupidly doing this just to get under his scales?
With the dress Keita had finally found her pulled up to her knees, Izzy had her feet dangling in the water, and Celyn swam from one end of the small lake to the other. When he reached her, he stopped.
“Are you going to be like this all night?” Celyn demanded.
“Yes.”
“I don’t know why you let him get to you this way.”
“I don’t know why you keep bringing him up.”
“Because you’re sitting here pouting about it.”
“True, but I was pouting alone.”
“You weren’t alone.”
“The puppy hardly counts, Celyn.”
Celyn swam in a little closer. “You didn’t tell him about us, did you?” Izzy planted her palms flat on the ground behind her, the puppy lying against her hand. “About us?”
“About our relationship.”
“We don’t have a relationship.”
“What would you call it then?”
“Not a relationship.”
“Why? Because of him?”
“No. Because of me. I have no plans to get attached to anyone in the immediate future.”
“Why was that again? Oh, right. You’re going to be general one day, and you can’t let me get in the way of that.”
“I am going to be general.” And she said it with such certainty that Éibhear believed her. He was glad she was being smart and not letting Celyn dissuade her from going after what she wanted. Although Celyn was being a little pushier than Éibhear would expect. And what relationship?
“One day,” she went on, “I’ll be leading Annwyl’s armies into battle.
But thank you so very much for your faith in me.” She stood and tried to stomp off, but Celyn placed one hand on the lakeside dirt and reached up with the other, catching her arm and holding her there.
Éibhear’s hands turned into fists when he thought his cousin might just be going over the edge from being pushy to downright forceful. He wouldn’t let him force Izzy into anything.
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, Izzy. I didn’t mean to.” Izzy took in several deep breaths before she crouched down next to the lake. “I never lied to you, Celyn,” she said. “I never promised you something I couldn’t give.”
“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”
“Both. I won’t let anything get between me and what I want. I told you that from the beginning. You said you understood.”
“I do, but I never said I’d like it.”
“Not liking it sounds like your problem. Not mine.” And the teasing was back in her voice, the smile back on her face.
“You’d think you’d at least try to make me feel better,” Celyn complained.
“I thought you were here to make me feel better.”
“You’re right. That is why I’m here.” Celyn scrambled out of the water, the duke’s daughter gasping a little when she saw his nak*d human body lit by the moon overhead. But all Éibhear could think was that Celyn was nak*d and Izzy was alone with him.
Laughing, Izzy made a weak attempt to run, but Celyn caught her and pulled her into his arms, holding her against him.
“You’re getting my gown wet, and it’s not even mine!”
“I’ll get you another.”
“With what? You have no money.”
“I’ll steal some from Brannie.”
“And she’ll rip your scales off.”
“Will you nurse me back to health?”
“No. I’ll let you suffer. It’s wrong to steal from your own sister.”
“Come on, Iz,” Celyn practically begged, and Éibhear slowly rose up, ready to tear the pushy bastard apart for trying to force Izzy to do what she’d never done before when she wasn’t ready to…
“Don’t make me wait any longer. It’s been weeks since we’ve been alone.”
“Days, you big whiner.” She giggled, Celyn nibbling on her neck, while the puppy wandered off to the woods as if to give them some privacy.
A thought that absolutely horrified Éibhear. “We almost got caught that last time too.”
Caught? Caught doing what exactly?
“The last thing I heard,” Celyn said, “was my mother. ‘Iseabail, Daughter of Talaith and Briec, what are you doing out here nak*d?’ And your fast-thinking reply of, ‘Uhhhh.’”
Laughing hard now, Izzy put her arms around Celyn’s neck and brought her legs up and wrapped them around his waist. “I didn’t know what to say!”
“Well.” He stared at her lips. “We’re alone now, Iseabail, Daughter of Talaith and Briec, and my mother is still miles away. You going to keep me waiting?”
“Not tonight, no.”
She kissed him, and it was definitely not the kiss of some innocent who was desperately trying to hold on to her virginity.
Éibhear turned away, unable to watch a second more. He needed to be away from here. Far away. And he was halfway down the ridge before the duke’s daughter caught up with him. He’d forgotten all about her, and she’d been right next to him.
“Are you all right?”
“Aye. Sorry. I need to get back.”
“Oh.” She looked disappointed, but he couldn’t help her with that right now. Instead the most he could do was walk her back to her guest quarters and leave her to the care of her servants.
“Tell me, Lord Ragnar,” Keita said low, as she circled behind him.
“Have you ever had a Southland She-dragon’s mouth on your cock?” Ragnar locked his knees, cleared his throat. “No. I haven’t had that.”
“Would you like to?”
Gods, yes! “I wouldn’t mind.”
Keita chuckled and backed away from him. “Then you best come for me, my lord. So you can come for me.” Her chuckle turned into a laugh, and she walked off into the thinning crowd. Ragnar started off after her, but he suddenly had three long-haired freaks in his way.
“You enjoying our sister, Lightning?” Fearghus asked him.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Do you really think you can hide what you’re doing with our baby sister from us?” Briec demanded.
And Gwenvael tossed in a “Yeah!” But when Ragnar raised a brow, he added, “Just trying to help.”
“We all know,” Ragnar explained, “that there is nothing I can say at this moment that will prevent my pummeling. So I will have to use alternative means.”
Briec, another who had, at least for a time, walked the path of Magick, cracked his knuckles. He most likely looked forward to a good mage battle right here in the Blood Queen’s hall.
Too bad for them he had other options. “Talaith?” Ragnar called out.
“You bastard,” Briec hissed at him, and Gwenvael laughed.
“He’s good.”
The beautiful human witch walked over. “What’s wrong?” He leaned in and whispered, “I’m off for a secret rendezvous with Keita, but her brothers blocked my way. Can you help me?” Fearghus stared at him with his mouth open. “Gods, you are such a bastard!”
“What is wrong with all of you?” Talaith demanded. “Why can’t you leave him alone? He’s so sweet!”
“Gods, Briec,” Gwenvael noted, “she’s been drinking.”
“Not really,” Talaith argued. “I only had two glasses of wine.” But she held up four fingers when she said that. To help her, Ragnar folded down her pinky and ring finger. “That is sooooo sweet. You are sooooo sweet.” Then she turned on the three Fire Breathers blocking his way. “You leave him alone! ”
Eternally grateful to Dagmar Reinholdt for the helpful tip on how to handle Keita’s brothers, Ragnar walked around them and headed out the way Keita had. Once outside, he sniffed the air and caught her scent. He started off after her, tracking her past dog kennels and horse stables. He knew when he neared Keita, her wonderful scent growing strong. But he stopped short and quickly stepped back into the shadow of an empty guard house.
She was hugging two older dragons in human form, both wearing long brown cloaks. One was a Blue, the other a Red.
“Elders Gillivray and Lailoken! How good to see you both!”
“My lady, please,” one said. “Keep your voice down.”
“Oh.” Keita briefly covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry.” She stepped closer. “Is there a problem?”
“Not a problem. Not really,” one said.
“Although we are glad to have you back at home. Where you belong.
With your people.”
“And I am glad to be back.” She glared at the castle. “Although my mother doesn’t make it easy for me to stay.” Her face a study in concern, she caught the hand of each Elder and said, “I heard about the unfortunate event with Elder Eanruig. I am so sorry.”
“Thankfully, neither of us was there to witness it, my lady.”
“Nor I.” She shook her head. “Still. Such a tragedy. He’s always been so loyal to our kind and the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar.” Ragnar’s eyes crossed. Gods! Did the royal Southland names have to be so complicated? “I was shocked and, I must admit, disturbed when I heard what happened.” She took a deep breath. “I’m afraid to ask, but…was my mother behind it?”
“There is no evidence of that, my lady,” one of them said in a low voice.
“I didn’t ask if you had evidence, Elders. What does your gut tell you?”
“What does your gut tell you, princess?” the other pushed.
She let out a breath and briefly gazed off. “You both know me well enough to know what I think. My mother’s loathing of Elder Eanruig was known to any in earshot, and as you know, Elder Gillivray”—she motioned to the old blue dragon—“I’ve never understood that. He was always so sweet to me. So honest and sincere. And quite protective.”
“The blood in you, princess, clearly flows from your grandmother’s veins.” The red dragon—Elder Lailoken, Ragnar supposed—grinned. “She would have adored you more than words can say.”