Dragon Actually (Dragon Kin #1)(8)

“Just thinking about my men.”

“You are truly worried about them?”

Annwyl nodded. She closed her eyes again and rubbed her palms against them. It helped to relieve the ache that started in her head when she fell to the floor. “They are all good, strong men. But my brother’s troops . . .”

“Outnumber you?”

“Aye. Even with the help from the other kingdoms, my brother still has more troops. More supplies. More everything.” She lowered her hands. “And we have. . . .” She turned her eyes to the dragon and stopped.

Then she smiled.

If Fearghus were human, he would have run from the room simply from the expression on her beautiful face. He knew what she was thinking. So he decided to end this now. “No.”

“I haven’t asked you anything yet.”

“But you’re going to, and the answer is no.”

She released a frustrated little growl. “Why?”

“I don’t involve myself in the petty problems of men.”

“But I’m a woman.” She smiled again, and he would have laughed if he weren’t so annoyed.

“That you are. And the answer is still no.”

She pushed herself off the bed. “We could help each other.”

“Wouldn’t you rather just take all my gold and jewels, kill me in my sleep, and be done with it?”

She dismissed the riches he offered with a wave of her hand. “Gold I have. I need your power, dragon.”

“No.” He watched her walk around the cave floor, impressed with how quickly her body was healing. She already appeared stronger, which only seemed to make her more determined.

What have I gotten myself into?

“There must be something we can offer you. Something you want or need.”

He sighed dramatically and fell silent for a moment. “Well, I’m always in need of fresh virgin sacrifices.”

She rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”

“Annwyl, there is nothing that a human can offer me. I have everything I need. There’s a reason no one has seen me in nearly seventy years.”

She became so agitated he feared she might come out of her skin. “I’m not asking you to give up your life here. Help me defeat Lorcan, and then it can be like we never met. I’ll leave you to your solitude.”

For some reason that was the last thing he ever wanted to hear from her, but he ignored the pang of regret her statement caused.

“I can’t help you defeat your brother. You must do it yourself. And you must do it alone.”

“Why?”

“If you do not kill Lorcan yourself, your reign will always be in question. The other kingdoms will rise up against you and kill you and your precious troops. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Then you best take his head yourself.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “But you don’t think I can.” She walked toward him. “Do you?”

“No. Not really.”

There went that rage. “Why not?”

“Because you don’t think you can.”

Her rage came and went so quickly, it was quite the sight to behold. Her whole body seemed to deflate, her hand going to her wounded side. “You’re right. I don’t think I can.” She sat on her bed. “He’s so fast. His skill with a blade . . . I couldn’t even touch him.”

“You give up too easily. You just need training.”

“From whom? I know of no warrior as skilled as my brother.”

“I do.”

Annwyl looked up. “You know someone?”

“Uh . . .” Things just kept getting more and more complicated.

“Yes. I do.”

“Do you trust him?”

Only as much as he trusted himself. “Aye. I do.”

“And he will help me prepare to kill Lorcan?” Fearghus nodded. “Then, perhaps, you could help my army against my brother’s troops?”

“Annwyl . . .”

She leaned forward, wincing from the pain she caused her side. “Please, Fearghus. I know I already owe you my life. But if there’s anything . . . It’s just to have the power of a dragon behind us—”

“So I help you defeat your brother,” he cut in churlishly.

“And then what are your plans?”

Annwyl frowned. “My plans?”

“Yes. Your plans. You take your brother’s head, your troops are waiting. What is the next thing that you do?”

Annwyl just stared at him. He realized in that instant that the girl had no plans. None. No grand schemes of controlling the world. No plots to destroy any other empires.

Not even the plan to have a celebratory dinner.

“Annwyl, you’ll be queen. You’ll have to do something.”

“But I don’t want to be queen.” Her body shook with panic, and he could hear it in her voice.

“You take his head, you’ll have little choice.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do as queen?”

“Well . . . you could try ruling.”

“That sounds awfully complicated.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“What do you mean?”