Light My Fire
Page 14
Thankfully, though, Rhiannon simply reached out and grabbed Talaith by her long, curly hair, yanking her back.
“What are you doing?” Talaith snarled, trying to fight her way out of Rhiannon’s sturdy grip.
“There is no point in going after your mother. No point involving the Nolwenns at all. This has nothing to do with them. They’ve served their purpose.”
Dagmar’s lips briefly pursed before she asked, “What’s going on, Rhiannon?”
After pushing Talaith back and releasing her, Rhiannon looked at each of the women standing before her. Talaith. Iseabail. Dagmar. Annwyl.
Celyn was sure it had never occurred to the powerful Dragon Queen that these humans would become an important part of her life. At one time, the queen thought of humans as nothing more than wily food that could make a boring dinner that much more interesting as they begged for their lives.
Yet all that had changed a few decades ago when Fearghus had rescued a dying Annwyl the Bloody. At the time she’d merely been a rebel leader, battling against her sadistic brother after the death of their Southland-ruling father. Fearghus, with the help of his sister, Morfyd the White, had nursed Annwyl back to health and, pretty quickly, he’d fallen in love with her. And once a dragon falls in love, there is no turning back. There is no flying away to find someone new. Someone dragon.
Rhiannon could have handled her eldest son’s situation like most royal dragon parents would have. Ordering him never to see the human again, having Annwyl killed so he couldn’t, or allowing Fearghus to take Annwyl as his lover while forcing him to choose a royal She-dragon as his mate. A She-dragon who would have his offspring so that the line of the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar would live on.
But, to everyone’s surprise, Rhiannon the White had done none of those things. Not once had she told her son, the heir to her throne, that he had to choose someone else. That he could never rule if he were to make a human female his mate. Instead, she’d accepted Annwyl the Bloody. Accepted her whole-heartedly. And, in return, Annwyl wore her love for Fearghus the Destroyer on her shield, her armor, and her body. When Fearghus had Claimed Annwyl, he’d branded her forearms with his mark—and, rumor had it, her inner thighs, but Celyn had thankfully not seen any of that.
In all the years Celyn had known the human queen, she’d never once hid who she was and who—or what—her mate was. If anyone was brave enough to express disgust at her choosing a dragon, Annwyl allowed that person his or her opinion.
And if someone went beyond merely having an opinion . . . ?
Annwyl took their head.
“There’s something I haven’t told any of you about Rhianwen and the twins,” Rhiannon said to the women.
“Gods help us,” Talaith gasped. “They’re all dead.”
Rhiannon briefly stared at the Desert Land beauty before asking, “Why would I not tell you that?”
“Because you knew it would destroy us?”
“Even then, Talaith, I’d still tell all of you if something had happened to my grandchildren. And no, you ridiculous female, they’re not dead. They’re on the move.”
“The move to where?” Dagmar asked.
When Rhiannon didn’t answer, Talaith threw her hands into the air. “You don’t know where they’re going?”
“Not specifically, and don’t get snappy with me, Lady Hysteria!”
“Everyone stop.” Annwyl stepped back to one of the tables. She pushed the books covering it aside and sat down. She rested her elbows on her legs and clasped her hands between her knees.
Celyn guessed that this was what Dagmar had been calling “the new and less insane Annwyl.” The Annwyl who took a moment to breathe and think before reacting with the full force of her mighty will.
“Where are my children, Rhiannon?” the human queen quietly asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Where are they going?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who are they going to?”
“I don’t know.”
Talaith crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”
“I know they’re safe,” Rhiannon insisted.
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because they told me they are and I trust them.”
“Trust them?” Talaith briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. “Why the hells would you do that?”
“Because they’re my grandchildren. That’s why.”
“You don’t want us to tell Fearghus and Briec,” Dagmar guessed.
“We can’t. They simply won’t understand.”
“And Bercelak?”
“I don’t hide anything from my Bercelak.”
Celyn laughed at that, and Rhiannon glared at him.
He cleared his throat, nodded. “Sorry, my queen.”
When Rhiannon returned her focus to her sons’ mates, Celyn looked at his sister and they silently laughed.
“He has complete faith in his granddaughters on this,” Rhiannon told the women. “And he’ll follow my lead.”
Annwyl sat up a bit. “He has faith in his granddaughters? What about his grandson?”
“The one he keeps accidentally calling Gwenvael? I don’t think there’s hope there, dear. I’d let it go.”
“Éibhear knows,” Izzy reminded them.
“He won’t say a word,” Rhiannon immediately replied. “He contacted me as soon as he saw Rhi escape through that portal, and I told him then to keep his mouth shut.”
“What are you doing?” Talaith snarled, trying to fight her way out of Rhiannon’s sturdy grip.
“There is no point in going after your mother. No point involving the Nolwenns at all. This has nothing to do with them. They’ve served their purpose.”
Dagmar’s lips briefly pursed before she asked, “What’s going on, Rhiannon?”
After pushing Talaith back and releasing her, Rhiannon looked at each of the women standing before her. Talaith. Iseabail. Dagmar. Annwyl.
Celyn was sure it had never occurred to the powerful Dragon Queen that these humans would become an important part of her life. At one time, the queen thought of humans as nothing more than wily food that could make a boring dinner that much more interesting as they begged for their lives.
Yet all that had changed a few decades ago when Fearghus had rescued a dying Annwyl the Bloody. At the time she’d merely been a rebel leader, battling against her sadistic brother after the death of their Southland-ruling father. Fearghus, with the help of his sister, Morfyd the White, had nursed Annwyl back to health and, pretty quickly, he’d fallen in love with her. And once a dragon falls in love, there is no turning back. There is no flying away to find someone new. Someone dragon.
Rhiannon could have handled her eldest son’s situation like most royal dragon parents would have. Ordering him never to see the human again, having Annwyl killed so he couldn’t, or allowing Fearghus to take Annwyl as his lover while forcing him to choose a royal She-dragon as his mate. A She-dragon who would have his offspring so that the line of the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar would live on.
But, to everyone’s surprise, Rhiannon the White had done none of those things. Not once had she told her son, the heir to her throne, that he had to choose someone else. That he could never rule if he were to make a human female his mate. Instead, she’d accepted Annwyl the Bloody. Accepted her whole-heartedly. And, in return, Annwyl wore her love for Fearghus the Destroyer on her shield, her armor, and her body. When Fearghus had Claimed Annwyl, he’d branded her forearms with his mark—and, rumor had it, her inner thighs, but Celyn had thankfully not seen any of that.
In all the years Celyn had known the human queen, she’d never once hid who she was and who—or what—her mate was. If anyone was brave enough to express disgust at her choosing a dragon, Annwyl allowed that person his or her opinion.
And if someone went beyond merely having an opinion . . . ?
Annwyl took their head.
“There’s something I haven’t told any of you about Rhianwen and the twins,” Rhiannon said to the women.
“Gods help us,” Talaith gasped. “They’re all dead.”
Rhiannon briefly stared at the Desert Land beauty before asking, “Why would I not tell you that?”
“Because you knew it would destroy us?”
“Even then, Talaith, I’d still tell all of you if something had happened to my grandchildren. And no, you ridiculous female, they’re not dead. They’re on the move.”
“The move to where?” Dagmar asked.
When Rhiannon didn’t answer, Talaith threw her hands into the air. “You don’t know where they’re going?”
“Not specifically, and don’t get snappy with me, Lady Hysteria!”
“Everyone stop.” Annwyl stepped back to one of the tables. She pushed the books covering it aside and sat down. She rested her elbows on her legs and clasped her hands between her knees.
Celyn guessed that this was what Dagmar had been calling “the new and less insane Annwyl.” The Annwyl who took a moment to breathe and think before reacting with the full force of her mighty will.
“Where are my children, Rhiannon?” the human queen quietly asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Where are they going?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who are they going to?”
“I don’t know.”
Talaith crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”
“I know they’re safe,” Rhiannon insisted.
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because they told me they are and I trust them.”
“Trust them?” Talaith briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. “Why the hells would you do that?”
“Because they’re my grandchildren. That’s why.”
“You don’t want us to tell Fearghus and Briec,” Dagmar guessed.
“We can’t. They simply won’t understand.”
“And Bercelak?”
“I don’t hide anything from my Bercelak.”
Celyn laughed at that, and Rhiannon glared at him.
He cleared his throat, nodded. “Sorry, my queen.”
When Rhiannon returned her focus to her sons’ mates, Celyn looked at his sister and they silently laughed.
“He has complete faith in his granddaughters on this,” Rhiannon told the women. “And he’ll follow my lead.”
Annwyl sat up a bit. “He has faith in his granddaughters? What about his grandson?”
“The one he keeps accidentally calling Gwenvael? I don’t think there’s hope there, dear. I’d let it go.”
“Éibhear knows,” Izzy reminded them.
“He won’t say a word,” Rhiannon immediately replied. “He contacted me as soon as he saw Rhi escape through that portal, and I told him then to keep his mouth shut.”
