Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(50)

Leaning against one of the open front doors of the Great Hall, Gaius watched a weaving Éibhear carry his human mate up the stairs to their rooms. The big Blue had tossed a passed-out Izzy over his shoulder, but he wasn’t holding on much better. Gaius thought about helping the young prince, then thought... “Eh.”

The party had been quite . . . raucous. A little more lowbrow than what Gaius was used to. Of course, in the Provinces, parties involved actors, storytellers, dancers, musicians, poets . . . and the entertainment and feasting went on for days. Then, of course, there were the gladiator games. He’d changed them a bit, though, since he’d become king. They no longer involved slaves. They were no longer used for punishment or torture. Many—mostly his aunt—thought this meant that they would run out of gladiators. They were wrong. With a healthy purse to win and a chance to become a beloved champion, they had more than enough men, and some women, willing to battle to the death without chaining them in their off time.

Still, this had been . . . fun.

Gaius watched a few servants come in to start cleaning up now that almost everyone had either gone to bed or was passed out on the floor. While they worked, Gaius silently watched as Prince Fearghus and the queen walked into the hall together. They held hands but said nothing, smiling at each other like two youngsters in love.

It was a little embarrassing, considering who they were. The names and reputations they’d built for themselves over the years. But Annwyl stopped at the bottom of the stairs and did something extraordinary. She ordered the servants to bed.

“You can clean it up tomorrow,” she told them when they began to argue. “Trust me. You don’t want to clean around these big oafs passed out on the floor. Wait until they get up, throw up, and go to bed.”

Agreeing with that logic, the servants went off and Annwyl the Bloody, like a much younger woman, jumped up so that she was on Fearghus the Destroyer’s back, her legs around his waist. Her arms loose around his shoulders.

Laughing, they walked up the stairs, Fearghus—most likely purposely—stepping on the head of one of the Mì-runach who’d passed out on the steps.

And for some unknown reason, Gaius had the strangest feeling. Of regret?

No. No, no. That was impossible. He hadn’t fallen that far, had he?

Deciding it was best to go to bed since he was getting a little maudlin, Gaius walked to the stairs and carefully stepped over those who’d passed out on the steps. As he neared the bedroom he’d been given by Lady Dagmar, he heard noises that he assumed were coming from the queen’s bed chamber. But when he pushed open his door, he realized he was wrong.

Tragically, disgustingly, appallingly wrong.

Slamming the door closed, Gaius went to Kachka’s room but only found the Khoruzhaya siblings and Marina Aleksandrovna passed out on the bed. He slammed that door, too, and went to Elina’s room. He pushed the door open without knocking and ignored the roar of the dragon getting his cock sucked.

“Where’s your sister?” he demanded.

“Get out!”

“Quiet, boy, before I burn this house down!”

Celyn’s cock popped out of Elina’s mouth and she calmly replied, “She went hunting.”

“It’s pitch black out.”

“She is Daughter of Steppes. We do not let darkness stop us from—”

“Oh, shut up. Where did she go?”

“Go east from front doors.” She waved Gaius away. “Now go. I must finish sucking his cock or he gets very cranky.”

“I’m past cranky!”

“See?” Elina asked flatly.

Gaius slammed the door shut and stomped down the stairs, out the doors, and headed east. He stalked for a while until he heard something charging at him in the darkness. He turned just in time to see the eyes of a boar shining at him.

In a rage, Gaius blasted it with his flame, turning it to ash in seconds.

“That was mine,” Kachka complained as she moved out of the darkness, where the moon above made her easier to see.

“You,” he snarled.

“What did I do?”

“You brought Zoya Kolesova here. And now she’s in my room, f*cking some poor soldier who, I have to say, appeared quite terrified by the entire experience.”

Kachka stared at Gaius for a moment, and then she burst into laughter. So hard that she was bent over at the waist, dropping her bow and quiver to the ground at her feet.

“What is so gods-damn funny?”

Arms around her middle, Kachka stood up, but she was laughing so hard, she couldn’t speak.

“It’s not funny! I am a king. Kings get their own room, heartless female! But what they don’t get is forced to share a bed with Zoya Kolesova and her obvious victim!”

Kachka stepped over her weapon and went to Gaius. She placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him. She opened her mouth and Gaius thought she was about to apologize. She didn’t.

She did, however, keep laughing!

Only now she was leaning against him. Laughing.

“I’m the One-eyed Rebel King,” Gaius complained. “People, everywhere, fear me. Fear my wrath. But then I come to the Southlands and it all falls apart.”

Kachka stepped back and grasped Gaius’s hand, pulling him.

“Where are we going?” he asked, but she didn’t answer.