Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(19)

“We’re just taking a break here then?”

“Yes.”

She waited for something more, but he ignored her after that, and began whispering to his brother. When he was done, Ragnar walked off, and Keita did not like the direction the Lightning went in.

Keita brushed up against Ren, appearing impossibly playful, her tail tugging with his. But as she giggled and teased, she leaned in and whispered,

“Do you see where he’s headed?”

“Aye. I do.”

“I’ll kill him. You take care of the other two.” She started to follow after Ragnar, but Ren pulled her back.

“Are we still forced to have this conversation?”

“What would you suggest then, Duke No-Kill?”

“You delay King Big Head. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Fine.”

Ren kissed her cheek and backed away from her. He moved around until he caught the attention of the other two Lightnings. It wasn’t hard—they’d been watching Ren with something very close to fear since they’d first seen him. At least, as much fear as any Northlander was willing to show. All they knew was that Ren was different; and clearly different made them nervous.

While they watched, Ren leaned up against a small hill—and vanished.

“What the bloody—”

Knowing the Lightnings would spend ages searching for him, Keita followed after Ragnar.

Dagmar Reinholdt, also known as The Beast among her Northland kinsmen, went to the kennels to do a midday check on all the dogs. Her latest batch of puppies were doing well, and the men she’d handpicked to train and work the dogs during battle were better than she’d hoped.

Always thinking ahead, Dagmar planned to be prepared with strong battle dogs for the Southland Queen and her troops.

She ensured they had been fed, that all were looking healthy, and that they all had fresh water in their runs. Once she’d done all that, she walked down the line, speaking to each animal while noting any changes and thinking about their training.

But as she reached the last cage, the barking dogs, always so chatty when she was around, suddenly fell silent, and Dagmar felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise up the slightest bit.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said after a moment.

“Do what?”

She faced the god behind her. Many gods enjoyed visiting her now, no matter how annoying Dagmar found their presence or how inane their conversation, but Eirianwen, human god and consort to dragon father god, Rhydderch Hael, liked to call Dagmar her “friend.” Which was strange since Dagmar still didn’t worship any god. They were simply too annoying to be worshipped. “Do not sneak up on me.”

“I’m a god, Dagmar. I don’t sneak up on anyone. It’s not my fault I can simply appear wherever I’d like.”

Dagmar’s head tilted to the side. “Where’s your arm?” Eir examined her left shoulder. “Oh. Right. Lost it in a fight.” She shrugged with her right shoulder. “It’ll grow back.”

“How nice for you.”

Not the most pleasant thing to see before luncheon. Of course, it could be worse. A few months back, the god had shown up missing half her head.

After Dagmar finished retching, though, they had a very nice conversation.

“So how goes it?” Eir asked.

“Well enough.”

“And your queen?”

Dagmar knew the sneaky cow wasn’t here merely to check up on her.

“She’s fine.”

“Liar.”

“But you already knew that about me.”

“Excellent point.” Eir walked over, a trail of shit and blood and mud left in her wake. She must have come right off a battlefield somewhere by the looks of her. “I thought I made it clear to you, my friend, that your queen needs to toughen up.”

Annoyed the god had the nerve to say that, Dagmar replied, “If she were any tougher, she’d be nothing but muscles, eyes, and a sword.”

“I don’t mean physically, and you know it.”

“She’s doing the best she can. You can’t actually blame her for worrying about her children. Not after what your consort did.”

“Don’t blame him.”

“Why not? This is his fault.”

“You still haven’t forgiven him, have you?”

“After throwing me to Minotaurs? You must be joking.”

“You humans take everything so damn personally.”

“When I’m thrown to Minotaurs—you’re right.”

“Fine. Be that way.” The door behind Dagmar opened, and Eir walked out, brushing past her.

Dagmar watched her and finally asked, “And where’s Nannulf?” She couldn’t think of a time that she’d seen the goddess without her loyal wolf-god companion.

“Off taking care of something.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Dagmar scowled. She didn’t like the sound of that whatsoever.

Ragnar tromped through the trees toward Esyld’s house. He hated doing this. He hated being the one to bring her back to Dark Plains. But he already had a plan.

Initially, he’d thought of telling Esyld to run and then reporting to Rhiannon that she wasn’t at her house. Yet he had a feeling the queen would never believe it and he still didn’t think the Horde was ready to get on her bad side. Plus, there was the risk that Esyld wouldn’t run. She had that air about her. As if she was determined to stand her ground. He admired that about her.