Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(32)

The Five . . . they didn’t balance each other out. Instead, they seemed to work as one, and that created a power that concerned both Fearghus and Briec. Two dragons who rarely agreed on much of anything.

“Auntie Annwyl took the Rebel King gently by the hand and led him down the hall to her private chambers . . . while knowing his name,” Gwenvael’s daughter said.

Talwyn abruptly pulled away from her brother and glared down at Gwenvael as Rhi “tsk-tsk’d.”

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. Her mother taught her to be so observant.”

“But Auntie Dagmar uses her knowledge for the right reasons,” Talwyn argued. “Not just to f*ck with family members.”

“Oooooh,” the little girl chastised. “I’m telling Mummy you said a bad word.”

Talwyn took a step forward, tossing her hair off her face with a rough shake of her head.

“Do you know who I am?” Talwyn asked the child.

“Yes,” the little girl replied. “You’re the one my sister Arlais is going to kill one day so she can take your throne.”

Rhi and Talan exploded into laughter, but they also quickly turned away from Talwyn’s withering glare.

Talwyn swung back toward her young cousin, her roar shaking the castle walls.

The little girl squealed at whatever she saw in her cousin’s face or heard in that terrifying roar and disappeared in a flash of smoke.

Grinning, Gwenvael leaned forward and kissed Talwyn on the forehead. “Welcome home, little niece.”

Gaius stood beside the queen, both gazing down at one of the world maps she had spread across the thick wood table, in deep discussion about who might or might not be aligning themselves—and their armies—with Duke Salebiri.

He was just leaning over, pointing out a little-known kingdom behind Salebiri’s territory, when the door was thrown open.

Annwyl’s hand was on her sword before Gaius could blink—he hadn’t realized exactly how fast she was, especially for a human—but she quickly relaxed when she saw her mate standing there.

“Oh. Fearghus,” she said, before refocusing her attention on the map.

The black dragon’s dark eyes locked on Gaius, and that’s when Gaius noticed Fearghus’s two idiot brothers standing behind him.

Instigators.

True, it had only been Gaius and his sister when he was growing up, and they’d worked with each other, not against. But he’d had enough cousins who’d wanted him dead or, at the very least, truly annoyed, to immediately know what was going on here.

He could have been the bigger dragon. His sister would expect that of him. She was very big on etiquette, his Aggie, which explained why she was so annoyed by Annwyl and her queendom. Annwyl the Bloody had absolutely no etiquette outside the battlefield. She’d be the first to rattle off the rules of war. No killing of the innocent. No rape. No unnecessary destruction. How she had gone on and on before their first and only battle against his Uncle Thracius. But etiquette here? In her home? That was more limited and, to Gaius’s secret delight, much more flexible.

So he leaned into her a bit—she didn’t even notice, so focused on the map in front of her—placing his arm on the other side of her so that he had her caged in next to him.

The black dragon’s head lowered, a fang flashed, and smoke eased from his nostrils while, behind him, his brothers grinned. Even the cranky Silver who never seemed to smile about anything except his daughters.

“Annwyl!” the dragon snapped and, again, Annwyl moved so very fast, pulling her swords from the sheaths strapped to her back and assuming a combat-ready pose before Gaius had a chance to take his next breath.

“What?” she demanded, eyes searching the room. “What is it?”

With his brothers watching him, the Black searched for a response. “Uh . . .” He found one. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Introduce you? To who?”

The prince’s eyes narrowed and he gestured at Gaius. Annwyl glanced back and shrugged. “Don’t you already know him? We took down Overlord Thracius together and he’s stayed here several times.” She blinked, glanced down at the floor, then asked Gaius, “Right?”

Gaius nodded. “Right.”

“Oh, good. Thought I was confusing you with someone else.”

“No, no. That was me,” Gaius replied before gently putting an arm around her shoulders. So very casual. So very comfortable. He could never explain how he knew he had nothing to fear. At least nothing from Annwyl. Perhaps because when it came to off-the-battlefield etiquette, she truly didn’t care. They had an enemy to squelch and as long as Gaius wasn’t grabbing a breast, Annwyl just didn’t notice. Already she’d let her gaze drift back to the map, in search of more information on the kingdom Gaius had just mentioned to her.

But the black dragon prince . . . ? Ah, that was another story altogether.

It was as if he planned to shift right there, in the middle of the human castle, into his full dragon form just so he could tear Gaius limb from limb. But before he did any of that, Prince Gwenvael’s head was snatched back, his yelp startling his silver-haired brother beside him.

“What was that for?” Gwenvael whined seconds before Dagmar Reinholdt marched into the room.

“King Gaius,” she greeted, “I wanted to make sure you had everything you need.”