Dragon On Top (Dragon Kin #0.4)(46)



That’s when Ghleanna threw the first battle axe. But Feoras was fast. He quickly stepped aside, and the axe hit the dragon behind him in the chest—killing him instantly.

“Bitch,” Feoras snarled.

“Come on, Feoras.” She swung her second axe in an arch. The flat of it slapping hard into the middle of her claw. “Let’s finish this.”

He roared and charged her and Ghleanna flew at him. They met, collided, and spun. When they landed, Ghleanna pulled away first and swung her axe. Feoras ducked, moved around her. She quickly turned, lifted her weapon, and blocked the sword aimed at her back.

More dragons surrounded Bram, but these were friends not foes.

“This has been coming,” Addolgar remarked while he watched. He’d never intervene in his sister’s fight unless her death was imminent. That was the Cadwaladr way.

“Aye,” Bram answered. “It has.”

“Were you two all right down there? With them Fins?”

“Aye. Quite all right. The Empress wants a truce with Rhiannon and her army came to worship Ghleanna.”

Addolgar shook his head. “How does the cranky cow manage to do that? A few days with her—and they’re ready to follow my sister into hell.”

Feoras slammed his fist into Ghleanna’s snout, sending her tripping back. But she stayed on her claws and struck again.

“What about you, peacemaker?” Addolgar asked.

Without taking his eyes off Ghleanna, “What about me?”

“Would you follow my sister into hell?”

“Wherever her soul goes, mine will follow.” Bram let himself briefly glance at Addolgar. “She means everything to me. But you already knew that.”

“Yeah. We already knew. The whole lot of us. But you’re so damn polite, we figured you needed a push.” He gestured at the growing number of watching dragons. “We never expected all this, though.”

“Nor I. Not for an alliance.”

“An alliance in writing. With dragons of the Desert Lands. You make that happen, and Rhiannon becomes the strongest dragon monarch in the last six centuries.”

When Bram only blinked, Addolgar added, “I’m not stupid, royal. No matter what you’ve heard.”

Ghleanna blocked another blow from Feoras’s sword. Spun, brought her axe down, and when he blocked it, brought her tail around and slammed the tip of it into a weak spot under his arm.

Feoras roared in pain and yanked his body away from her. He stumbled a few feet ahead of her, bringing his arm down to stop the flow of blood.

Ghleanna turned on her talons, swung her axe and imbedded it into Feoras’s spine.

The dragon whimpered, his body tensed. Ghleanna yanked out her axe and walked around him. Feoras dropped to his knees, gazing up at her once she stood in front of him.

She held out her free claw to Addolgar and he tossed his own axe to her. Ghleanna caught it, held it.

“Don’t, Ghleanna,” Feoras begged. “Please. Don’t.”

Ghleanna stared at the dragon for a moment. “I never loved you at all,” she murmured. “I know that now.

“Of course—” Ghleanna hefted both axes—“that makes this so much easier.”

She brought both axes together, not stopping until the blades met in the middle of Feoras’s neck. The dragon’s head popped off clean, landing on the ground at Ghleanna’s claws while blood shot out and covered his comrades.

She stepped back and slowly looked over the other warriors and soldiers who were waiting. Waiting for their next orders. Their next decision. Ghleanna gave it to them.

“Death to all traitors!”

Her kin roared in agreement before descending on Feoras’s foolish sycophants. She walked through the slaughter and over to Bram. He, again, leaned against a tree—waiting for her. And beside him stood her father.

“You off then, Da?” she asked.

“Aye. Too old for all this killing.” And to prove that, her father turned and brought his axe down on the head of a traitor that had gotten too close. Spun once more and cut off the legs of another.

He faced them again. “Need to get back to my rocking chair and some hot tea.”

“Clearly.” Ghleanna hugged her father. “Tell Mum I’m fine and when this is all done, I’ll be back to see her.”

“You better. She will track you down if you don’t.” Ailean smiled at Bram. “Take good care of her, royal. She means the world to me.”

“I will, sir.”

Her father walked off and Ghleanna looked at Bram.

“That—” and he motioned to the pieces of Feoras’s body—“was a bit showy.”

“I like to give the lads a bit of a show. It’s good for morale.”

He leaned down, pressed his snout against hers. They held like that a moment and then he told her, “You have more killing to do.”

“And I thought you’d try to stop me.”

“My mercy has never extended to traitors, Ghleanna.”

She stepped away from him, twisting her axes in both hands. “Then I’ll get to work.”

“Good. Because when we’re done here, we still have a contact to meet in Alsandair.”

“Overachiever,” she accused him with a grin, before she turned and killed every traitor in her path.

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