Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(144)

“I still hear prince- ass. …”

“—you’ll have no other c**k inside you. No other male’s claws or hands on you. That seems a fair trade, don’t you think?”

“Fair enough,” she gasped, already rocking her hips against him. “Fair enough.”

Dagmar headed toward the stairs. She wore another dress picked out by her sister-in-law Keita that looked as good as the first she’d given her.

Apparently the royal intended to get Dagmar “an entire new wardrobe of pretty things!” A thought that horrified Dagmar a bit, mostly because she knew Keita had no intention of actually buying that new wardrobe, so she feared for any caravans that might be traveling through the area in the next few days.

Halting her steps, Dagmar glanced down at Canute. She raised her brow at the dog, knowing they both had sensed it, and went back down the hallway until she stood in front of her niece’s room. Without knocking, she walked inside and caught her niece quickly hiding something behind her back.

“Give it,” Dagmar ordered, her hand out.

“But—”

“Iseabail, Daughter of Talaith and Briec, give. It. ”

“He cheers me up.”

“Don’t give me that face, Queen’s Squire.” And she saw her niece purse her lips, trying to stop the smile she got anytime someone called her that.

“Can’t I keep him until we leave?”

“Trust me, Izzy. You can’t keep him at all. Now give him over.” Sighing, she pulled the puppy from behind her back and placed him in Dagmar’s hand.

“I like dogs,” Izzy said.

“Izzy, you like everything.” Dagmar kissed her forehead and headed out of the room. “Get dressed. Dinner soon.” Dagmar took the puppy down the stairs and out the back way of the Great Hall before she tossed him to the ground. “Stop pretending you’re a puppy, Nannulf!”

The wolf-god landed on his giant paws and grinned at Dagmar, his tongue hanging out. If he had a human form, she had no doubt he’d be laughing at her. “And leave my niece alone,” she warned him. He opened his mouth, and she quickly added, “And no barking!” The fortress walls couldn’t stand the damage that would cause.

Nannulf pouted, tail hanging low, until Dagmar petted his head. Then he slathered her face with his tongue; spun around, hitting Dagmar with his tail and almost knocking her on her ass; and took off running.

“Who are you talking to, Dagmar?” Morfyd asked as the Dragonwitch came up behind her.

“A god,” Dagmar said simply.

Turning right around, Morfyd marched back inside, muttering,

“Show-off,” as she did.

Éibhear walked up to his sister and tugged on the sleeve of her gown.

She faced him, one brow raised, her lips pursed in disapproval, before he’d managed to say a word.

“Don’t still be mad at me, Keita,” he said. “I can’t stand when you’re mad at me.”

“Did you apologize to Izzy?”

“No.” He folded his arms over his chest, knowing he was pouting but not caring. “And I’m not going to. She’s crazed! Won’t listen to reason.”

“She won’t listen to reason?”

“You know, you were my sister before you were her aunt. Does that mean nothing in this family?”

“Of course it doesn’t.” Keita walked away from him, and Éibhear stared down at the floor. This was intolerable. He had his brothers constantly telling him, “You should have killed Celyn when you had the chance, you idiot,” and Morfyd petting him and telling him, “It’ll be all right, luv. Don’t you worry now.” All expected reactions, but he didn’t realize until this moment how much he needed the full balance of his kin’s reactions, including Keita’s direct but fair advice. So having her simply angry at him without talking to him or telling him how she thought he should handle things was too much. Especially since Keita was the only one of his siblings who didn’t treat him like he was stupid or made of spun glass.

Éibhear heard something scrape the floor, and he lifted his head, watching Keita drag a big chair over to him.

“Isn’t that Annwyl’s throne?” he asked, looking around for someone to be concerned.

“I’m just borrowing it.” Keita placed the throne in front of Éibhear and stepped onto the padded seat. Now that they were at eye level, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “You do know I love you, don’t you, little brother?”

“I guess. But it would be nice to hear it.”

Keita smiled, and Éibhear felt relief at the sight of it. “It may take some time—you are ridiculously stubborn like the rest of this family—but I know you’ll make this right one day. Until then”—she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight—“remember that my love and loyalty always belong to you.”

“Aw. Thanks, Keita.”

She pulled back and pointed a finger at him. “But when you are rude, little brother, I will not hesitate calling you a prat!” That part Éibhear already knew.

“Oy, you dizzy cow!” Annwyl yelled from across the hall. “What the battle-f*ck are you doing with my throne?”

Ragnar stared at his kin, his mouth slightly open.