About a Dragon (Dragon Kin #2)(30)

“I’m just helping her.”

“No.” Talaith shook her head. “You’re being a bastard. But I’m getting used to that. Besides,” she patted his shoulder, “you’re such a cute bastard.”

“Talaith,” Éibhear said softly. “Perhaps we should get you back to your room.”

“No. He’ll be there. Lurking outside my chamber like a giant scaly watchdog.”

“Briec would never force himself on you,” Éibhear assured her. Because he knew his brother never would. To be quite blunt, he couldn’t be bothered.

“I know. He can be so nice,” she said sadly, “when he’s not being an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“If you know that,” Gwenvael cut in, “I’m not sure why it would concern you where my brother slept. Unless it is your own control that concerns you, m’lady.”

Talaith raised her hand and flicked Gwenvael’s still-healing wound.

“Ow!”

“Don’t irritate me.” She hugged the bottle to her chest and sighed. “None of you understand. I’m trapped with no way out. I’ve been trapped now for sixteen years.”

Éibhear and Gwenvael exchanged concerned glances. What was she talking about? At first, he thought she was still talking about Briec, but she’d only known him a few days. For some other reason she felt the need to leave. For a reason Éibhear knew she’d never share with them. Talaith had been keeping secrets for a very long time. He knew that even drunk, she’d still keep those secrets.

“I wish you’d let us help you, Talaith.” He gently pushed her curly hair off her face. “At least let Briec.” Briec would do anything for her, except neither of them had realized it yet.

“No one can help me, Éibhear. I’ve learned that all too well, my friend.”

Somehow she pushed herself to her feet, the bottle still gripped in one hand and pressed to her chest. “I’m going to stagger to my room now.”

“Talaith—”

“No. No. I’ll be fine.” She took several awkward steps, then stopped. “You. I knew you’d be lurking.”

Éibhear turned to see Briec leaning against the entrance wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His human form looked casual enough, but Éibhear sensed his brother’s concern. Briec would never admit it, but he cared about this lovely but strange woman who couldn’t hold her drink.

“Come, Talaith. Let me take you to bed,” Briec offered.

“I can manage well enough on my own, serpent.” She walked toward him. “So just keep your claws off me.” She hiccupped once and pitched forward. Briec caught hold of her before she landed face first in the dirt.

“Briec?”

“Don’t worry, Éibhear. I’ll take care of her.” Briec lifted the unconscious woman up in his arms. “Thanks for finding her before she drowned herself.”

Éibhear waited until he was sure Briec was out of hearing range, then turned to Gwenvael. “You’re right, you know?”

“About?”

“She is going to make his life hell.”

Gwenvael grinned, his wound seemingly forgotten. “I know.”

* * *

Briec laid his drunken human down on the bed, finally prying the bottle of Fire Wine from her grasp. Even he didn’t drink his father’s homemade wine, but he had used it to clean rust off old armor.

He brushed Talaith’s hair off her face and her brown eyes fluttered open. “Oh. It’s you.”

Did she have to sound so disappointed? “Aye. It’s me.”

“Come to take advantage of me in my inebriated state?”

“I try not to do that. Nothing worse than the morning-after sobbing.”

She laughed while struggling to sit up. “I don’t understand you, dragon.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“Sometimes you can be so nice, and I can almost forget how annoying you are. And then you open your mouth, and I remember exactly how annoying you are.”

She finally found a way to sit up and, for a brief moment, he expected her to pitch forward again, but she managed to keep her seat. He watched her struggle with the ribbon tying her bodice together, which she managed to get completely knotted up.

Sighing, he kneeled in front of her and pushed her hands away. “At this rate, you’ll be sober before you get your dress off.”

He worked at untying the knots she created, but he could feel her eyes on him. Her words still startled him, though. “I like you on your knees, dragon.”

Briec dug in and decided not to look at her, instead concentrating on the knots before him.

“I don’t think you’re necessarily better looking on your knees,” she continued, “but I find you almost charming there.”

“Talaith, I need you to stop talking now.”

“Why? Am I shocking you?”

No. She wasn’t shocking him. But she was making him hard. From this position, he could do all sorts of things to her and with her. But he wasn’t about to take advantage of her while she was flying high on his father’s homemade liquor. He liked his women sober and willing. Not passing out in the middle of it or, even worse, throwing up on him. Besides, hadn’t she done enough of that already?