About a Dragon (Dragon Kin #2)(26)

Still, it was the way she stroked Éibhear’s head that fascinated him. Nothing lusty about it at all. In fact, it was very maternal and sweet and warmed his heart as nothing ever had before. Too often he and Gwenvael had to hurt those who would take advantage of Éibhear’s good nature. Or mock him for being kind. But Talaith, she let him be as kind as he wanted and never made fun of him for it or tried to take advantage.

Now the question became, how did he get Talaith this comfortable with him but without her feeling maternal? There had to be a way to get her to soften toward him. But the only time she seemed unafraid of him was when they were fighting. Gods, but the woman did love to fight.

Of course, when Briec thought about it, so did he.

* * *

If he were remotely human, he’d never see or hear her heading toward one of the lower exits out of his cave.

He should let her go. It wasn’t wrong Briec took her from that village because he was truly rescuing her. But not to let her go once he got her to safety—only Briec would think that was perfectly acceptable.

Still, leaving without letting any of them know bothered him. And Éibhear was so fond of her, too. Plus, Gwenvael truly enjoyed the way she tortured his older brother. He’d pay her to stay if she would keep that up.

Her body melded into the shadows—she’d changed into all black—and she moved silently. Yes, her skills truly did impress him and now Gwenvael understood why Briec seemed to constantly question her.

This woman was no mere peasant.

She stood a stone’s throw from the mouth of the cave, but she wouldn’t move. Her eyes scanned around. She sensed him. Very impressive. He waited, wondering how long before she caught sight of him. For another minute or so, she continued to search the area with her eyes. She knew he was there, she just didn’t know where.

Finally, she stood up straight and her head fell back so she looked up at the ceiling—and him.

“Talaith.”

Even though he kept his voice calm, because he felt no anger at her escape attempt—she wasn’t his female—she still screamed. Like a banshee.

She ran, too. Right toward the exit and the ongoing storm outside. But he ran along the ceiling until he passed her, then he dropped down in front of her, shaking the cave walls and blocking her way out.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He sat back on his haunches and stared at her.

She quickly crouched before him, a dagger drawn, and inched back step by step. This was a woman who knew how to protect herself. He liked that. Weak females bored his kind, so Briec had chosen well.

“Move, dragon.”

He fought his urge to laugh at her order. What exactly did she expect to do with that tiny blade? Especially with her usually powerful voice sounding shaky from fear.

“I can’t. My brother would have my head.”

“I don’t belong to him.”

“No, but you’ll have to fight that fight yourself, beautiful. Now,” he motioned in the opposite direction with the tip of his tail, “go back to Briec.”

“I’m not a dog. And what is wrong with your tail?” She frowned. “It’s missing something.”

Unwilling to discuss the betrayal of his kin and the day those bastard brothers of his cut off the tip, Gwenvael brought his tail up so he could wrap it around her waist and carry her back to his brother. But she latched onto it with one hand and used the other to plant her blade between her teeth. While Gwenvael was still trying to understand what the hell she may be up to, he raised his tail, allowing her to jump from it to his forearm. Next thing he knew, she climbed onto his snout and over the top of his head.

“What in bloody—”

Then he saw her dagger. How could he miss it? She aimed it straight at his eye. He swatted at her with his claw. He didn’t knock her off, but it startled her enough she stabbed his head scant inches from her original target.

“Aaaaaaarrrrrrrggggggggggghhh! You mad cow!”

He didn’t want to hurt her, but he had no choice. Especially when she yanked her blade back and took aim again.

Using his tail, he slammed her from behind, sending Talaith flying. She hit the ground with a grunt, but smartly rolled with the landing.

She ended up on her back, the dagger still clenched in her hand. He didn’t wait for her to get up. He wrapped his tail around her, making sure her arms were pinned at her sides and headed back into his cave.

* * *

Morfyd the White, Dragonwitch of House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar, First-born Daughter of Dragon Queen Rhiannon, Vassal to Queen Annwyl of Garbhán Isle, and Supreme Battle Mage to the armies of Dark Plains, picked herself up off the ground, unable to look any of the men in the eye who’d watched her trip over her own two big feet. After all these years, she thought she would have mastered her human body a little better.

Unfortunately…

“Are you all right?”

She winced at the humor-filled voice she now so easily recognized.

“Aye, Brastias.” She took the hand of Queen Annwyl’s general and second-in-command, allowing the man to help her up.

“Those feet of yours just came out of nowhere and attacked again, huh?”

She glared into his smiling face. “Keep that up, and I’ll let the next battle wound you get go septic.”

She brushed off the front of her white robes and desperately tried to ignore those strong hands of Brastias’ brushing off the rear. With every pass over her ass, she practically purred.