Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(104)

“They will be soon enough what?”

“Fucking.”

Gwenvael stopped again. “I thought you just said they weren’t?”

“They’re not. Although I don’t know why it bothers you so much.”

“What if he’s just toying with my sister because he’s good and pissed I got you?”

“I think it would be very hard for any male to toy with your sister and live to enjoy it. But it doesn’t matter because that’s not Ragnar’s way.” When Gwenvael could only manage a grunt, Dagmar stroked her free hand against his chin. “And I’m with you, not with him. He understands that.”

“He better.”

“Besides, I’m sure once he beds your sister, he won’t think about me for another second.”

“How are you so sure that’ll happen?”

“Do you need my spectacles to see, Defiler?” She tugged him into moving again. “They’re both gagging for it!” Keita was heading out of town with Ragnar when she saw him. He stood by a blacksmith stall, talking to a pretty young girl. He held the girl’s hand and leaned in close.

She stopped, stared, rage singing through her veins.

“Keita?” Ragnar slid his hand down her back. “What is it?” Unable to answer, her anger too great, she marched across the street until she reached the pair. Lifting both her hands, she slammed them into the human male, shoving him to the side. She grudgingly had to admit she was impressed. Although hitting her brothers like that would do little more than annoy them, she had been known to break a few bones of the human males.

This one, however, just stared at her.

“Keita?” he asked, obviously shocked.

“Do you think,” she snarled at the bastard, “that you can do this and get away with it? That I’d let you do this?” The general of Annwyl’s armies and her sister’s worthless human mate frowned, appearing confused; then his eyes grew wide. “No, no. You don’t under—”

Unable to look at him without wanting to set him on fire, she spun on the girl. “You. Whore. Get from my sight, or I swear by all the gods that I’ll destroy everything that you love!”

The girl, rightly terrified, burst into tears and ran off, allowing Keita to focus on the man behind her.

She faced him, pointing a finger. “I should rip the flesh from your human carcass, you low-born—”

“She’s my cousin,” he cut in.

“Yeah. Right. Nice one. Like I’ve never heard that line of centaur shit before.”

“I was asking her to be our new nanny.”

That had a ring of truth to it, didn’t it? “New nanny?”

“We lost another nanny, and Morfyd asked me to see if my young cousin would take the position. The young cousin you just sent screaming and sobbing back to my aunt and uncle, who will probably never let me see her again.”

Keita lowered that accusing finger, knowing he spoke the truth. “Oh.”

“You can ask Morfyd, if you’d like. She knows my whole family.

They adore her.”

“Brastias, I’m so…very…”

“No, no. It’s always wonderful when your fourteen-year-old cousin is called a whore on the street and you’re accused of betraying the mate you adore. And in front of the blacksmith, too.” Keita looked over, and the blacksmith gave a happy wave.

“Truly, I am so sorry. I just—”

“You and Morfyd go at it like cats and dogs,” Brastias said, “but something always told me I never wanted to be on the wrong side of that.” He walked past her. “Now I know I was right.” He headed off down the street, back to the castle, and tossed over his shoulder, “Some of the Cadwaladrs are dining with us tonight. With Izzy back, there will probably be dancing. I thought you should know.” Keita buried her face in her hands. Mortified. She was absolutely mortified!

So when Ragnar put his arm around her shoulders and led her out of town, she didn’t even ask where they were going. She didn’t even care.

He took her deep into the forests, leading her along until he got to a small lake behind some large boulders. It was secluded and quiet, a place he’d stumbled upon when he’d been here two years before. Less than a mile away was the spot where Keita had stabbed him with her tail. She didn’t go into a rage often, but when she did…there were always so many victims.

He brushed off one of the smaller boulders and led her to it. “Sit.” She did, planting her elbows on her knees and her face back in her hands.

“You all right?”

She answered, but he couldn’t make it out with her hands in the way, so he crouched in front of her and pulled them away. “What?”

“I said I’m mortified.”

“Is that a new experience for you?”

“Kind of.”

Ragnar brushed her hair from her face. “All right. So you called a child a whore and accused your sister’s mate of betraying her…I’m sure it could be worse.”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to make you feel better?”

“You’re not very good at it.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She gave a little laugh. “I think it’s endearing.”