The Dragon Who Loved Me
Page 104
They al shook their heads, not sure what the royal was talking about.
“This.” She smoothed her hand over the bare, unmarred flesh above her left breast, where her bodice slipped low.
“What about that?” Morfyd snapped. Back five minutes and the pair already going at it like pit dogs.
“Can’t you tel ?”
“Tel what?”
“This is where I’m going to al ow Ragnar to put his Claim brand upon me . . . when I’m ready to al ow him to do that . . . in a few years or so.”
“Years?” Annwyl asked.
“Uh-huh. Don’t you think this spot is perfect?”
They al stared at the smiling royal, their mouths slightly open, until Dagmar turned back to Annwyl and said, “So this Rebel King . . . a right bastard or is al that just legend?”
“A little of both, I think. And he’s young . . . for a dragon.”
Keita threw her hands up in the air as they al went about ignoring her because it amused them to do so.
Annwyl wouldn’t say it was right what they did—but it was fun.
“Good morn to my lovely family!” Gwenvael happily announced from the top of the stairs. He looked his old self again, Annwyl thought. No more scowling and so bloody cheerful. “How is everyone this glorious morning?”
Dagmar rol ed her eyes and muttered under her breath, “Oh, piss off.”
“Now, now, my love,” he said to his mate, completely missing the fact that Fearghus and Briec were walking up behind him—and not one of the females bothered to warn him. “Have no fear. I won’t be leaving you anytime—aahhhhhh! You heartless bastards! ” Gwenvael yel ed after his brothers tossed him over the banister and he landed on the floor.
Damn but it was so very good to be home!
“Rhona!”
Rhona, busy pul ing on her boots, watched the triplets run up to her.
“What?” she asked once her boots were on. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! Look. Look!”
They forced a piece of parchment at her and she opened it and quickly read the words, lifted her gaze to her sisters. “Did you tel Mum?”
“Not yet,” Edana said. “We wanted to tel you first.”
“I . . . I can’t believe they’re taking you so early.”
“You’re upset,” Breena guessed.
“No, no. I’m . . .” She was overwhelmed. The triplets would be heading to Anubail Mountain. They would be trained as Dragonwarriors. Just like al Rhona’s other siblings. Just like most Cadwaladrs.
“You’re crying,” Nesta accused.
“Of course I’m not!”
“Then what’s that leaking out of your eyes?”
“You are upset,” Breena insisted.
“No. It’s just . . . just . . .” Unable to hold it in anymore, Rhona burst into tears and sobbed out, “I’m losing my babies!”
“Awwww!” Her sisters surrounded her in a group hug, now al of them crying.
“You’l never lose us,” Edana insisted.
“What’s going on?” Vigholf asked from behind them, his mother next to him. Rhona had left the pair alone to talk while Rhona put on her boots.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded when he saw that they were al crying.
“See?” Edana said. “You have him now. And he’s not half bad.”
“But he’s not you lot.”
“But now you can have your own hatchlings . . . not just Mum’s.” Breena wiped her eyes and sized up Vigholf. “He looks like a right good breeder.” Both mother and son’s eyes grew wide at the turn in the conversation.
“But I’l probably just have males,” Rhona complained. “They never breed females in the Northlands.”
“You’re a Cadwaladr, luv. The Cadwaladrs always have females. We’re sure of it.” Nesta motioned to Vigholf. “Tel her you’l have female offspring.” When Vigholf did nothing but gawk, Nesta snarled, “I said tell her.” Shaking his head, Vigholf took his mother’s hand and walked away.
Rhona didn’t actual y blame him for doing that, though.
When his mother doubled over in laughter, Vigholf final y had to stop walking.
“It isn’t funny. They’re all like that.”
“But . . . but . . .”
“Mum! It’s not funny!”
“Oh, yes it is.” She wiped tears from her eyes and gazed at her son. “She’s the perfect choice.”
“She hasn’t agreed to anything.”
“What more of a sign do you need?”
“She didn’t say the words, ‘I’m coming with you, Vigholf. I wil stay with you forever, Vigholf.’ Just discussing my breeding capabilities does not mean much with this group, Mum.”
“Och!” His mother waved her hand at him. “You always have to hear specifics.”
“When we’re talking about the rest of my life and future happiness . . . yes! I do!” Briec walked into the room his daughter shared with her twin cousins. Ebba stood next to the window, staring out, probably watching the bonfires of bodies they’d had over the last few days to get rid of the dead.
Without even looking at him, Ebba turned to the twins and said, “Come. I believe Sulien has something for you both.” The twins, apparently knowing that Sulien was a blacksmith, ran out of the room screaming. Ebba fol owed, closing the door behind her, and Briec sat down on the bed beside his baby girl.
“This.” She smoothed her hand over the bare, unmarred flesh above her left breast, where her bodice slipped low.
“What about that?” Morfyd snapped. Back five minutes and the pair already going at it like pit dogs.
“Can’t you tel ?”
“Tel what?”
“This is where I’m going to al ow Ragnar to put his Claim brand upon me . . . when I’m ready to al ow him to do that . . . in a few years or so.”
“Years?” Annwyl asked.
“Uh-huh. Don’t you think this spot is perfect?”
They al stared at the smiling royal, their mouths slightly open, until Dagmar turned back to Annwyl and said, “So this Rebel King . . . a right bastard or is al that just legend?”
“A little of both, I think. And he’s young . . . for a dragon.”
Keita threw her hands up in the air as they al went about ignoring her because it amused them to do so.
Annwyl wouldn’t say it was right what they did—but it was fun.
“Good morn to my lovely family!” Gwenvael happily announced from the top of the stairs. He looked his old self again, Annwyl thought. No more scowling and so bloody cheerful. “How is everyone this glorious morning?”
Dagmar rol ed her eyes and muttered under her breath, “Oh, piss off.”
“Now, now, my love,” he said to his mate, completely missing the fact that Fearghus and Briec were walking up behind him—and not one of the females bothered to warn him. “Have no fear. I won’t be leaving you anytime—aahhhhhh! You heartless bastards! ” Gwenvael yel ed after his brothers tossed him over the banister and he landed on the floor.
Damn but it was so very good to be home!
“Rhona!”
Rhona, busy pul ing on her boots, watched the triplets run up to her.
“What?” she asked once her boots were on. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! Look. Look!”
They forced a piece of parchment at her and she opened it and quickly read the words, lifted her gaze to her sisters. “Did you tel Mum?”
“Not yet,” Edana said. “We wanted to tel you first.”
“I . . . I can’t believe they’re taking you so early.”
“You’re upset,” Breena guessed.
“No, no. I’m . . .” She was overwhelmed. The triplets would be heading to Anubail Mountain. They would be trained as Dragonwarriors. Just like al Rhona’s other siblings. Just like most Cadwaladrs.
“You’re crying,” Nesta accused.
“Of course I’m not!”
“Then what’s that leaking out of your eyes?”
“You are upset,” Breena insisted.
“No. It’s just . . . just . . .” Unable to hold it in anymore, Rhona burst into tears and sobbed out, “I’m losing my babies!”
“Awwww!” Her sisters surrounded her in a group hug, now al of them crying.
“You’l never lose us,” Edana insisted.
“What’s going on?” Vigholf asked from behind them, his mother next to him. Rhona had left the pair alone to talk while Rhona put on her boots.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded when he saw that they were al crying.
“See?” Edana said. “You have him now. And he’s not half bad.”
“But he’s not you lot.”
“But now you can have your own hatchlings . . . not just Mum’s.” Breena wiped her eyes and sized up Vigholf. “He looks like a right good breeder.” Both mother and son’s eyes grew wide at the turn in the conversation.
“But I’l probably just have males,” Rhona complained. “They never breed females in the Northlands.”
“You’re a Cadwaladr, luv. The Cadwaladrs always have females. We’re sure of it.” Nesta motioned to Vigholf. “Tel her you’l have female offspring.” When Vigholf did nothing but gawk, Nesta snarled, “I said tell her.” Shaking his head, Vigholf took his mother’s hand and walked away.
Rhona didn’t actual y blame him for doing that, though.
When his mother doubled over in laughter, Vigholf final y had to stop walking.
“It isn’t funny. They’re all like that.”
“But . . . but . . .”
“Mum! It’s not funny!”
“Oh, yes it is.” She wiped tears from her eyes and gazed at her son. “She’s the perfect choice.”
“She hasn’t agreed to anything.”
“What more of a sign do you need?”
“She didn’t say the words, ‘I’m coming with you, Vigholf. I wil stay with you forever, Vigholf.’ Just discussing my breeding capabilities does not mean much with this group, Mum.”
“Och!” His mother waved her hand at him. “You always have to hear specifics.”
“When we’re talking about the rest of my life and future happiness . . . yes! I do!” Briec walked into the room his daughter shared with her twin cousins. Ebba stood next to the window, staring out, probably watching the bonfires of bodies they’d had over the last few days to get rid of the dead.
Without even looking at him, Ebba turned to the twins and said, “Come. I believe Sulien has something for you both.” The twins, apparently knowing that Sulien was a blacksmith, ran out of the room screaming. Ebba fol owed, closing the door behind her, and Briec sat down on the bed beside his baby girl.
