Dragon Actually (Dragon Kin #1)(64)

Rhiannon’s offer to Annwyl was simple. “Return to Fearghus now or suffer my wrath.”

She stalked through the castle, her children trailing behind her, Keita desperately trying to cover up her mother’s nakedness with a cloak. Her children had arrived a bit earlier and were already dressed. They lived among the humans more than she, and she often forgot how much the humans’ own bodies caused them such distress. She paused outside the throne room long enough to pull the cloak on, but stopped and halted her children at the sound of Annwyl’s voice.

“So the rumors are true then?” a male voice snapped in disgust. “You have mated with a dragon.”

“Very true. But, of course, if it bothers you, Lord Hamish . . . please, feel free to come and take my throne from me.”

Rhiannon exchanged glances with her children. Seemed she still might be underestimating the tiny human.

Annwyl swung her legs off the arm of the stone chair and stood to her full height. She looked in the eye of each and every head of the Houses before her. She tired of games and pretending. With all the Houses present, the time now came to make sure everyone understood her reign and her.

“Perhaps this is as good a time as any to clarify the situation for all. That way there are no misunderstandings. Yes. The rumors are true. My mate is Fearghus the Destroyer, the Black Dragon of Dark Plains. He is my mate and my consort. With him I shall rule. I understand if any of you have a problem with this. And please, feel free to try and take my throne from me.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, but it razored across the silent hall like a shout. “Please.”

She waited. When none stepped forward she turned her back. But the flicker of Danelin’s eyes alerted her. They’d weathered many battles together and sometimes all you had time for was a look or one word. She knew exactly what he needed to tell her and she moved with her usual speed and brutality.

Annwyl pulled the jeweled dagger Fearghus gave her so long ago from her boot and, turning only her upper body, flung it behind her. The blade skewered the throat of a member of the House of Adhamhan who wanted to kill her in the name of his people. A big man in full armor, he wore no helm and Annwyl’s blade lodged itself right in his neck. His big body crashed to the floor, causing everyone but Annwyl and her troops to jump.

Annwyl stared at him for a long moment, letting it all settle in for everyone present. Then she looked over the faces of the nobles. “Anyone else?” No one moved. “I guess we are all clear now.”

She sat back on the throne, watching as Hamish scurried to the back of the hall. She glanced at Danelin. “Are we done now?”

He leaned in low so only Annwyl could hear him.

“There were to be three more, but I believe they may have run for their lives.”

“That weighs heavy on my heart, Danelin,” she muttered under her breath.

He raised an eyebrow. “I can see that, Annwyl.” All her original troops from her squire to Brastias still called her by her name only, without the formality of title and she would not have it any other way.

“Annwyl the Bloody!” A voice rang out across the hall, startling Annwyl and Danelin as well as the entire court. “You speak of your mate and yet you are not with him.”

Annwyl’s eyes narrowed as her rage began to flow through her veins like blood. It must have been on her face as well; Danelin stepped back from her, his hand on his sword, while Brastias and her troops moved in closer. Whether they were worried for her or about her she did not know.

She stared at the woman who stood at the large wood doors of the hall. Completely covered in a light blue cloak, she was the tallest female Annwyl had ever come across.

“Not sure what business that is of yours, lady.” Annwyl wondered whether she would kill her slowly or just outright.

The woman came forward, the cloak swirling around her bare feet. “I’ve traveled far to meet with you, Lady Annwyl, but I don’t like to waste my time or bandy words about.”

“And neither do I. So perhaps you should get to your point before I lose my patience.”

Annwyl felt a hand grip her shoulder and looked up to see Morfyd beside her. “Annwyl, I’d like to present Queen Rhiannon of the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar.” Annwyl cringed. What an ugly family name. She would hate to be stuck with something like that. “My mother.”

The feeling to bury one’s head in a ditch can be an overwhelming one, but Annwyl fought it all the same. The queen stood in front of her. As human. She snatched back the hood of her cloak. Snow white hair tumbled down around her shoulders and an expression of intense dissatisfaction rippled across her face. She didn’t even seem to notice the gasp that went up from the court when they saw the mark of her own Claiming, a black dragon brand that went from her jaw down her neck and disappeared under her cloak.

But now Annwyl understood why all Rhiannon’s children were beautiful. As human Rhiannon was absolutely stunning.

Annwyl looked at those who accompanied Rhiannon. A beautiful red-headed female who looked as innocent and sweet as any daddy’s girl. And three males who were clearly brothers. All quite beautiful in their own way. The one with silver hair looked as if he appeared before her under protest. The golden-haired one openly leered at her. And the blue-haired one grinned so happily she could do nothing but give him a quick smile back.

“My point, lady, is that it is time to take your rightful place beside my son.”