Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(64)

“Talaith!” Keita cheered, hugging the acid-tongued witch tight. “It’s so good to see you.”

“And you, sister.” They pulled away from each other, and Talaith gave Keita an astonishing smile that lit up her whole face until she faced her mate and that smile quickly turned to a scowl that even a demon spawn would fear.

“I thought we discussed and agreed,” Talaith bit out between clenched teeth, “that when we saw Keita again, none of you were to pounce and yell at her. Instead, we were all to have a nice, friendly, family chat to discuss and resolve any issues.”

“There was no discussion,” Briec said. “You, heart of my heart, just talked, talked, talked like you always do and I ignored, ignored, ignored, like I always do. Did you really think I heard or bothered to listen to a word you actually said on something regarding my baby sister?” A damning finger pointed at Briec. “If I thought, for one moment, that either of your daughters would forgive me, I’d cut off your tongue and wear it around my neck as an amulet to ward off your idiocy!”

“Isn’t your one, constantly yammering tongue enough for even you to handle, Lady Never Quiet?”

“Not when a day doesn’t pass that you don’t torture me with your insanity, Lord Stick Up His Ass!”

Keita stepped between the bellowing couple. “Must you two do this out here?” she asked desperately. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “The servants are watching.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Keita and Gwenvael burst out laughing, earning themselves several sighs of disgust.

“Battle Lord?” Ragnar asked again. “She made you Battle Lord?”

“Annwyl made me Chief Battle Lord. All Battle Lords of Dark Plains report to me.” Dagmar sipped her tea. “Your mouth is open, my lord.”

“I…uh…” Ragnar put his tea down…and closed his mouth. “I must admit. I saw this house and thought that you’d been forced here. Of no further use to the Mad Queen of Garbhán Isle and the Fire Breathers who rule with her.”

“I guess there’s always that risk with Annwyl, but she likes me.”

“And fears you as well?”

“Why would she fear me? As long as she does what I tell her without question there is nothing to fear.”

“I don’t know if you’re joking.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s unfortunate.”

To think, for a few brief minutes Ragnar had worried that Dagmar had been tossed aside as many brilliant females often were, but he should have known better. If there was one survivor he knew, it was Dagmar Reinholdt.

The Thirteenth Offspring of the Reinholdt, Only Daughter of the Reinholdt, and now shockingly powerful Battle Lord of Annwyl the Bloody, Mad Queen of Dark Plains. He should have known Dagmar would never allow herself to be tossed aside by anyone. He should have known.

“And you enjoy what you do?”

“Quite a lot.”

“So then…you’re happy?”

She pursed her lips, hands wrapped around her cup of tea, her gaze on the ceiling.

Finally, Ragnar added, “Happy for a Northlander.”

“Oh! Oh, then yes. Quite happy.”

“I’m just glad you’re home,” Fearghus said, kissing the top of Keita’s head and hugging her close again.

“And I’m glad to be back. I’ve missed almost all of you.” Fearghus laughed. “And you say that I hold a grudge.”

“You do hold a grudge—as does your mate.”

“Annwyl?” Fearghus leaned back a bit. “What did she do?”

“Nearly took the head of Lord Vigholf and crushed the leg of poor Lord Meinhard.”

Fearghus pulled her to his chest again. “That’s…that’s too bad. I’ll talk to her about that later when I see her.” It was too quiet.

Keita pushed away from Fearghus and found all her kin—and Ren!—laughing. Silently, but still! “This is not funny!”

“Yes!” Briec crowed, ending their silence. “It is!”

“Do you know the jig I had to do to calm the situation? We can’t afford to make them enemies because you can’t control your mate, Fearghus.”

“Control Annwyl? I don’t try to control her, baby sister. I unleash her on the world like a devastating storm from the sea.”

“Here they come,” Gwenvael noted, shaking his head. “And just look who leads them.”

Briec sniffed. “I see two years has not given that idiot more sense.”

“They’re his friends now, I’m sure.” Fearghus sighed, looking and sounding more like their father every day.

But Keita wouldn’t stand for it. Always picking on little Éibhear! It was unforgivable!

Keita stood before her three brothers, hands on her hips. “Listen well to me, you uncaring lizards. You be nice to our brother! All he’s talked about the entire trip was seeing all of you, and you will make him feel welcome or I will do all in my power to make you suffer in ways that even the gods will fear.”

“What happened to our wailing little Keita?” Gwenvael asked.

And that’s when she punched him in the groin, dropping her brother to his knees. “I said be nice!” she snarled at her now-wailing older brother.