Dragon Actually
Page 51
“Later. Right now my people need me, Fearghus.” She reached up and kissed him lightly. “Trust me.”
He brushed his head against her cheek and breathed in her scent. “Try not to get yourself killed, Annwyl.”
She laughed. “Why do all of you keep telling me that?”
He kissed her, long and deep until she pulled away. He enjoyed the fact that it seemed to be a struggle for her.
“We . . . uh . . . better go.” She stared at his lips for a moment longer, then, with a deep sigh of regret, stepped away from him and through the tent opening.
He followed, but stumbled upon finding his siblings waiting for him. All his siblings.
“Took you two long enough,” Briec snapped.
“What exactly were you two doing in there?” Gwenvael smirked.
“Big brother!” Keita spread her wings wide, completely blocking out Morfyd.
Morfyd slammed her claw down, causing the ground to shake. “You do that one more time, Keita, and I’ll start taking pieces of you right here!”
“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Éibhear took off and continued to swoop around the group, “Come on! We’ll miss all the best kills!”
Fearghus glared at Annwyl. She backed away from him with a shrug. “They wanted to help.”
“When we’re done with your brother, woman, we will discuss this.”
“Promises. Promises.” Annwyl leered as she quickly strapped her swords to her back, leather gauntlets on her wrists, and tied her hair back with a long leather strap.
Fearghus walked out into the middle of the campsite and shifted, doing his best to ignore his squabbling kin. He shook out his mane and turned to Annwyl as she secured her swords to her back.
“Lady Annwyl?”
Annwyl finished adjusting her weapons. “Lord Dragon?”
“I think it is time we make you queen.”
Annwyl nodded once . . . and smiled.
Brastias rolled on his side, avoiding the warhammer aimed at his head. He stood and brought his ax up, splitting the man from groin to neck.
“Behind you!” Brastias didn’t turn but swung his ax back and up. He took off a soldier’s sword arm, then turned to finish the man off. Prying his ax from the man’s corpse, he glanced at Danelin who called the warning.
“Where is she, Brastias?” the warrior yelled over the din of battle.
“She’ll be here.”
“Well, she and those dragons better be here soon.”
“Why?”
Danelin pointed to the sky and Brastias turned to see why the color drained from his lieutenant’s face. It wasn’t just that it was a dragon. Or that Lorcan rode him. But the fact that they were not alone. Eight other dragons flew with them, geared for battle.
Brastias cringed. Things just became more difficult.
As they flew toward battle, Fearghus gave explicit instructions, while Annwyl clung to his back. “Lorcan belongs to Annwyl. Hefaidd-Hen is mine. Kill every one else who wears Lorcan’s colors. Understand?”
“Wait. Is that it? Has our brother no words of wisdom before we go into battle?” Gwenvael demanded with sarcasm.
“As a matter of fact, I do. Don’t get killed.” Morfyd and Keita laughed as they moved out. His three brothers following.
“And Annwyl. Remember what I told you.”
“Protect my right side?”
“No.”
“Feint with my left?”
“No.”
“Nice ass.”
“No!” His growl of annoyance only elicited a sweet chuckle from his woman.
“Watch my rage, heart of my heart?”
“Condescending cow.”
Chapter 18
The ball of flame narrowly missed her and she desperately clung to Fearghus’s neck and hair as he spun and dove down toward the middle of the battle. For several agonizing moments her world turned upside down and she felt certain she would retch at any second, when the dragon thankfully righted himself. She didn’t care what he said, she was getting him a saddle.
As they neared the ground she caught sight of Brastias. “There! Land me there!”
Fearghus dropped lower, plowed through a contingent of horse-mounted soldiers, and slid to a halt in front of a startled Brastias.
Annwyl slipped off the dragon’s back. She unsheathed both her swords and turned to her dragon-lover.
The two stared at each other.
“Stay well, Lady Annwyl.”
“Stay alive, Lord Dragon.”
Fearghus unfurled his mighty wings and lifted off into the air to join the battle already raging with the other dragons and his siblings.
“We’re glad you’re here.” Brastias stood beside her now, covered in blood, the majority of which she doubted belonged to him.
“Sorry I took so long, my friend.” She tested the weight of her blades. As always they felt good in her hands. She was ready.
“Where is he, Brastias?”
“Up there.” He pointed to a ridge where she could hear the war cries of men. But between her and her brother lay a battery of troops screaming for her blood.
One soldier ran for her, the blood lust having grabbed hold of his mind. She brought her two swords together, stepping aside as the man’s head snapped off his body.
Annwyl smiled at Brastias. “Perhaps you should let me take this from here.”
She wondered what he saw on her face when she looked at him, because he visibly blanched and backed away from her. “As always, Annwyl. They’re all yours.”
He brushed his head against her cheek and breathed in her scent. “Try not to get yourself killed, Annwyl.”
She laughed. “Why do all of you keep telling me that?”
He kissed her, long and deep until she pulled away. He enjoyed the fact that it seemed to be a struggle for her.
“We . . . uh . . . better go.” She stared at his lips for a moment longer, then, with a deep sigh of regret, stepped away from him and through the tent opening.
He followed, but stumbled upon finding his siblings waiting for him. All his siblings.
“Took you two long enough,” Briec snapped.
“What exactly were you two doing in there?” Gwenvael smirked.
“Big brother!” Keita spread her wings wide, completely blocking out Morfyd.
Morfyd slammed her claw down, causing the ground to shake. “You do that one more time, Keita, and I’ll start taking pieces of you right here!”
“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Éibhear took off and continued to swoop around the group, “Come on! We’ll miss all the best kills!”
Fearghus glared at Annwyl. She backed away from him with a shrug. “They wanted to help.”
“When we’re done with your brother, woman, we will discuss this.”
“Promises. Promises.” Annwyl leered as she quickly strapped her swords to her back, leather gauntlets on her wrists, and tied her hair back with a long leather strap.
Fearghus walked out into the middle of the campsite and shifted, doing his best to ignore his squabbling kin. He shook out his mane and turned to Annwyl as she secured her swords to her back.
“Lady Annwyl?”
Annwyl finished adjusting her weapons. “Lord Dragon?”
“I think it is time we make you queen.”
Annwyl nodded once . . . and smiled.
Brastias rolled on his side, avoiding the warhammer aimed at his head. He stood and brought his ax up, splitting the man from groin to neck.
“Behind you!” Brastias didn’t turn but swung his ax back and up. He took off a soldier’s sword arm, then turned to finish the man off. Prying his ax from the man’s corpse, he glanced at Danelin who called the warning.
“Where is she, Brastias?” the warrior yelled over the din of battle.
“She’ll be here.”
“Well, she and those dragons better be here soon.”
“Why?”
Danelin pointed to the sky and Brastias turned to see why the color drained from his lieutenant’s face. It wasn’t just that it was a dragon. Or that Lorcan rode him. But the fact that they were not alone. Eight other dragons flew with them, geared for battle.
Brastias cringed. Things just became more difficult.
As they flew toward battle, Fearghus gave explicit instructions, while Annwyl clung to his back. “Lorcan belongs to Annwyl. Hefaidd-Hen is mine. Kill every one else who wears Lorcan’s colors. Understand?”
“Wait. Is that it? Has our brother no words of wisdom before we go into battle?” Gwenvael demanded with sarcasm.
“As a matter of fact, I do. Don’t get killed.” Morfyd and Keita laughed as they moved out. His three brothers following.
“And Annwyl. Remember what I told you.”
“Protect my right side?”
“No.”
“Feint with my left?”
“No.”
“Nice ass.”
“No!” His growl of annoyance only elicited a sweet chuckle from his woman.
“Watch my rage, heart of my heart?”
“Condescending cow.”
Chapter 18
The ball of flame narrowly missed her and she desperately clung to Fearghus’s neck and hair as he spun and dove down toward the middle of the battle. For several agonizing moments her world turned upside down and she felt certain she would retch at any second, when the dragon thankfully righted himself. She didn’t care what he said, she was getting him a saddle.
As they neared the ground she caught sight of Brastias. “There! Land me there!”
Fearghus dropped lower, plowed through a contingent of horse-mounted soldiers, and slid to a halt in front of a startled Brastias.
Annwyl slipped off the dragon’s back. She unsheathed both her swords and turned to her dragon-lover.
The two stared at each other.
“Stay well, Lady Annwyl.”
“Stay alive, Lord Dragon.”
Fearghus unfurled his mighty wings and lifted off into the air to join the battle already raging with the other dragons and his siblings.
“We’re glad you’re here.” Brastias stood beside her now, covered in blood, the majority of which she doubted belonged to him.
“Sorry I took so long, my friend.” She tested the weight of her blades. As always they felt good in her hands. She was ready.
“Where is he, Brastias?”
“Up there.” He pointed to a ridge where she could hear the war cries of men. But between her and her brother lay a battery of troops screaming for her blood.
One soldier ran for her, the blood lust having grabbed hold of his mind. She brought her two swords together, stepping aside as the man’s head snapped off his body.
Annwyl smiled at Brastias. “Perhaps you should let me take this from here.”
She wondered what he saw on her face when she looked at him, because he visibly blanched and backed away from her. “As always, Annwyl. They’re all yours.”
