Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(3)

She stormed out, but returned a moment later, her rage seemingly—and disturbingly—gone as she asked Ragnar, “You enjoyed telling me that—about my mother. Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I guess I did.” How could he not enjoy it, seeing as it allowed him to reveal the royal’s true nature to his kin? Now they’d see the dim-witted princess for what she really was: a cursing, snarling, spoiled royal with the most amazing ass ever created by the gods— No, wait. What?

“Good,” she told him. “Enjoy that feeling while you can, Lord Ragnar.”

“Why? What do you think you can do to me?” And when Meinhard punched him in the back for his rudeness, Ragnar totally ignored the pain.

She smiled—his kin sighing around him—and reached up with one hand, fingers stroking Ragnar’s jaw, his neck, trailing down to a spot on his chest. When she was done, she stepped back, gave a small bow of her head.

“My lords.”

Then she daintily lifted the hem of her skirt so it didn’t drag on the ground, and left them all standing there, gazing after her.

“That, lads,” Meinhard sighed after she’d gone, “is a fine lady and should be treated as such.”

And several hours later, after his father had been killed by human females, an alliance was in place with the Fire Breathers, and Ragnar was busy trying to staunch the excessive flow of blood caused by a vengeful princess, he’d remember exactly how big a lot of idiots he’d been cursed with as kin!

Chapter One

Two years later…

Was he supposed to be dead?

Keita the Red Viper Dragon of Despair and Death—Keita the Viper, for short—leaned in a little closer and sniffed the male human lying prone in his bed.

He definitely smelled dead. And she could hear no heartbeat, nor the sound of blood rushing through tiny little human veins. All things she could easily do when a living being was anywhere within a one hundred–foot radius of her.

But this human, the Outerplains Baron Lord Bampour that once was, was not supposed to be dead. Not yet. Not until she’d actually killed him.

Letting out a breath, Keita stood straight and placed her hands on her hips. She wore a gown given to her by the late Baron Lord, made of the finest silks gold coin could buy. She also had on the bracelet he’d given her, a thick gold bangle, and the matching necklace. She hadn’t asked for these things, but, as happened with most needy males, he’d happily given them to her. She knew why, too. In the hopes that she’d give him a lusty ride and enthusiastic cries of ecstasy…blah, blah, blah.

Males were all the same. A few compliments, a sweet smile, a little teasing, and Keita would be inundated with goods she’d never asked for and didn’t necessarily want. She didn’t mind, though. If males wanted to give her things, why should she stop them? What irritated her, though, what had always irritated her, was the belief some men had that a few gifts would somehow gain them access to her bed. They didn’t. In fact, Keita chose her bedmates as carefully as she chose the accessories for a particular gown.

Males on a whole were far too irritating for her to ever think of letting those who brought nothing but gifts, and little else, into her life.

As she explained to a friend once, “I’ll take their gifts, but that doesn’t mean I’ll take their cocks.”

So she’d taken the Baron Lord’s gifts. Happily, for unlike some, he had excellent taste. She’d also put up with him for the last three weeks. Him and his son. She’d bedded neither and had had no intention of doing so.

Mostly because she had no desire to, but also because Keita had come here with a purpose. For Bampour had crossed a line that made him a danger to those Keita loved. Too bad, though, someone had beaten her to the task.

Especially since she was ever so good at taking care of such things.

Debating whether she should get rid of the body herself, she heard it.

An extra heartbeat in the room that did not belong to the late Baron Lord since his heart had already stopped beating.

Keita looked over her shoulder, eyes narrowing on a dark corner.

That’s when the human came rushing out. She wore only a sheet, blond hair loose around her shoulders, small blade slashing wildly.

Keita grabbed the woman’s wrist and twisted, putting her on her knees. She thought about breaking that wrist just because the little bitch had come dangerously close to cutting Keita’s precious face, but the banging on the door quickly pulled that option from the table.

“Open this door!”

Keita looked down at the woman. She could snap her neck and be gone, but it didn’t seem right when the blond had only done what needed to be done anyway.

“It’s your lucky day, wench,” she said over the continued banging.

Keita released the human and ran to the largest of the windows. She pushed it open. It was small but would do. “Ren!” she called out.

“I’m here.”

“Hold on then!”

The woman watched Keita rush back to her. “What are you going to—eeeh!”

Keita swung the human up into her arms, spun on her heel for a little momentum, and flung the female through the open window. Poor thing squealed until strong arms outside that window caught her.

“Got her!”

“Take her. Go.”