Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(117)

“Are you sure about this?” her lieutenant asked. “Her mother is the queen.”

“And she’s a traitor. News about her and Esyld is spreading through the town like flame on dry wood. We need to make an example of her now before it’s too late. Nothing else matters.” The lieutenant nodded, but before walking off he said, “By the way…

that’s a nice eye patch.”

It crossed Elestren’s mind to tear both the bastard’s eyes out, but she’d wait to unleash all that rage on Keita the Traitor, Giver of Ridiculous Eye Patches.

Chapter Thirty

Ragnar woke up when he heard the snuffling. He smiled. “Good morn to you.”

The mare brushed her muzzle against his head, giving him her blessing, before she lazily moved on to the next bit of grass nearby.

Although Ragnar had woken up like this before, surrounded by mares and their yearlings, he’d never managed to wake up like this with a dragoness by his side. But this time was different. This was Keita, and she had her own entourage—all of them stallions. And all of them watching Ragnar closely.

Eventually Keita stirred on her own, brown eyes slowly opening, arms stretching wide.

“And good morn to you too.” He kissed her forehead, felt her hand stroke his cheek. “Feeling better?”

“Aye. My rage has turned to cold determination.”

“Then the world should quake in fear.”

“Sarcasm so early in the morning?”

He brushed her hair from her face. “That wasn’t sarcasm. It was honesty. I’ll admit I misread you in the beginning, Keita, but I’ll not make that mistake again.”

Her hand slid around to the back of his neck. “And I thought I’d be so bored with you by now.”

“I’m so glad I was able to disappoint you on that.”

“So am I,” she whispered, pulling herself up, her lips mere millimeters from his. Ragnar closed his eyes, waited for that kiss. When it didn’t happen, he opened his eyes and realized she was staring off at the horses.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.” She looked at him, blinked. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What?”

“We all are!” She scrambled away from him, quickly grabbing up her gown and yanking it over her head.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

“I’ll catch up with you later!” she yelled at him, already running toward the castle, the stallions watching her go while the mares pushed their yearlings out of the way.

He stood, his c**k hard and already dripping. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me like this!”

“Use your hand!” she said before she disappeared over a small hill.

“Exactly where are you taking us?”

“Oh, shut up,” Keita ordered her sister, tired of her asking the same damn question over and over. Rousing the females out of bed and away from their mates had been a task of its own—except for Dagmar, who’d already been up and “plotting” as Gwenvael put it, which was true enough since rumors about Keita and Esyld had already begun to spread—but getting them to follow her several miles into the forest on the other side of the eastern fields took all her cajoling skills.

Keita felt a hand swipe at her hair, and she spun around, her own hands open and slapping at her sister until Annwyl reached between them and shoved them apart.

“Give it a rest!” she barked. “You two are worse than the twins.” Keita tugged her dress back into place. “This won’t take long. I promise.” Then she added with a little snarl, “I’m trying to help!”

“Then help,” Talaith said. “We’re right behind you.” Wanting to be done with this, Keita ignored her sister and continued on. When she reached a high ridge that looked over the Deep Canyons, she stopped.

“What are we looking at?” Talaith asked.

From out of the line of trees on the low plain surrounding the canyons, wild horses raced forth. They were all beautiful and free, tearing across the countryside, unencumbered by being beasts of burden for men or dinner for dragons.

“Horses?” Annwyl scratched her head. “I have a horse.”

“Wait,” Morfyd said, stepping next to Keita, “this won’t work.”

“Have you even tried, Princess Doubt?”

“Only Mother can summon them, and she told me she wouldn’t.”

“Why do you wait for her?”

“She’s our mother and queen of these lands. Should I go against her?”

“Have you not learned it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission?”

“That’s how you and Gwenvael survive. I can’t live like that. Besides, if you summon them and you piss them off, Keita, they’ll tear these humans to bits.”

“On that note…” Dagmar turned to leave, but Keita caught her arm.

“Leave it to me.”

Keita released Dagmar and stepped to the very top of the ridge. She’d hoped she could get Morfyd to do this. As heir to their mother’s Magickal power if not her throne, she would most likely have an easier time of it. But Keita had learned a long time ago to wait for no one, especially her easily frightened sister.