Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(20)

Vateria, cunt of the ages, had made sure he’d received detailed reports of what his sister had endured at their cousin’s claws. She’d always been that perverse. That cruel. And between Vateria’s reports and his own imagination, Gaius had soon grown as cruel as she, his anger leading the way.

When Queen Annwyl had finally tracked him down, he’d been one step away from being no better than his Uncle Thracius. In fact, to this day, he had no idea what had held him back from slaying the human female outright. He’d hated Annwyl on sight, so it should have been easy. But something had stayed his claw. Something had kept him from killing her and her small party of dragons and one human girl.

Whatever the reason, the universe would never know how grateful he truly was for that decision. Because it was Annwyl and her party who had eventually managed to rescue his sister. Killing Thracius and destroying his army had just been a bonus gift.

When Gaius had returned to his cave, he’d found his sister there. Alive and well and waiting for him. In front of their troops, their greeting to each other had been sweet but aloof. They were still royals after all, rebels or not.

But, once they were alone, Gaius had held his sister while she’d sobbed against his chest. Her sobs had been filled with pain and rage and relief that it was all over.

They hadn’t discussed it again after that, but they didn’t have to. Just like now. Aggie didn’t need to tell Gaius how worried she’d been about him. He could just feel it. In his bones.

You’re safe now, though? she finally asked, slowly getting hold of herself.

I am.

Good. Then I’ll touch base with you later.

All right. I’ll be here.

You better. Or I swear to all the gods . . .

She didn’t need to finish that threat. And it was a threat.

The communication between them abruptly ended and Gaius took in a deep breath. One that he would let out slowly. A technique he’d learned to control his weaker elements. But before he could do anything, an arrow shot past him and lodged into the neck of a bear that had been gnawing on the bones Gaius had littered over the ground during his feasting.

The bear gave a strangled roar before falling flat on its back. A few seconds later, Kachka Shestakova walked past Gaius to retrieve her prize.

“Excellent shooting,” he noted, very glad to be distracted from his sister’s pain and fear.

“I do not allow for any other kind.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Gaius watched the Rider carefully place aside her bow and quiver before pulling out a short sword and dragging it across the bear’s throat. She wiped that blade clean with a cloth and returned it to its scabbard before taking a rope and tying one end to the legs of the bear. She threw the other end of the rope over a nearby sturdy tree and proceeded to haul the carcass up so that the blood would drain and she could remove the fur and butcher the animal.

Gaius didn’t offer to help her because he knew better. Rider females didn’t need the help of anyone but another Rider. And they definitely didn’t need the help of some imperialist male.

Grateful as Gaius was to Kachka Shestakova, he wasn’t about to insult her. So he sat there and watched while he ground an elk leg down until the end was a point, then proceeded to use that to pick his fangs clean of flesh and hide.

“So,” he finally asked when the sound of her butchering that carcass became too much for him, “what does Annwyl the Bloody have the Riders doing for her that has you sneaking around your own territory, Kachka Shestakova?”

Kachka stopped in the middle of what she was doing to that bear to slowly face Gaius. And, in that three-second time span, Gaius knew . . .

She was debating whether to kill him or not.

Kachka was searching out weak points on the dragon’s body when he said, “You do know that killing me really should be your last option . . . don’t you?”

“Is that because you are royal and think you are important to entire world?”

“Mostly . . . yes. But what’s significant is that your queen thinks I’m important.”

“You ask too many questions, and she is not my queen. Daughters of Steppes have no queen. No king. We live and die for each other.”

“I do not ask too many questions. I ask one. And if you have no queen, then why are you out here? Obviously helping her. Trying to get me, a useless royal, to safety? Willing to face”—his lip curled in distaste—“whatever that She-dragon was that removed that cursed torc from my neck? Why do all that if Annwyl is not your queen?”

Kachka didn’t answer, but the dragon thought he could guess.

“Yes. Of course. Your sister. She offered protection for your sister if you do her bidding.”

“I know that my sister is safe with the Mad Queen and the giant lizards. They actually like her. And, surprisingly, do not find her weak and pathetic.”

“That is big of them.” He stared at her a moment. “So you’re not in fear for your sister. You’re definitely not in fear for yourself. Then what are you doing?”

“Why do you ask, dragon? Why do you need to know?”

“I’m curious.”

“You should just be glad to be alive. If Zoya Kolesova had her way, we would have put you down days ago.”

“True. And she’s very—”