Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(72)

“She started it,” Briec stated before holding his “perfect” daughter out to Talaith and announcing, “She looks to need nourishment. Unleash your br**sts for her.”

“Would you stop saying that!” she yelped over Fearghus’s laugh. “I hate when you say that!”

“Do you? I hadn’t noticed.”

Talaith snatched her child from her mate. “You do realize that when I’m finally forced to kill you, no one will blame me for it?”

“I know I won’t,” Fearghus tossed in, busy holding his children upside down by one leg each, grinning when they laughed and squealed.

Although neither of his children spoke. They never spoke. Except to each other and only in whispers…and in a language no one understood. The family had finally admitted it to each other when the twins were about one and the truth could no longer be avoided. But again, there were worse things that could happen with them, but it was still strange. The twins were strange.

Talaith walked across the room and sat in a rocking chair Briec had made for her right before Rhianwen had been born.

“Whatever you two do, please don’t scare off your sister before Izzy arrives in a few days. You know she’ll want to see Keita.” And, Talaith hoped, Keita might be the one being who could defuse Izzy’s rage when she found out the truth about Rhianwen.

Talaith hadn’t been lying to Keita when she’d told her no moment seemed to be right to tell Izzy about her sister. There was so much going on in the west, and the last thing Talaith wanted was for Izzy’s mind not being on her task. She didn’t want to send a letter with all the information, only to find out her daughter was ambushed a day later by barbarians because she wasn’t paying attention. Because she was worrying about her mum. That was how it felt in the beginning; then after the baby was born, it just seemed wrong to tell her in a letter. But Talaith had thought Izzy would have been home by now. That she would have told her by now.

But when Izzy got home in the next few days, it would be the first thing Talaith did. She’d make sure of that.

“We’re not going to scare her off,” Briec informed Talaith. “We’re simply making it clear that what she did was unacceptable and will not be tolerated again.”

“And how well that has worked for you in the past, eh?”

“Don’t try to tell me how to raise my baby sister.”

“Raise her? She’s nearly two hundred years old.”

“Not yet she’s not.”

“Och!” Keita barked, stepping out of the Great Hall and into the late-day suns. “I simply can’t believe Briec named his poor hatchling after that slithering pond scum!”

“Shouldn’t you just call her Mum when we’re on her territory?”

“Only when she’s directly in earshot.”

Keita watched as Ragnar returned with Gwenvael and some servant.

“There you are! You can’t just go wandering off, warlord. Unless, of course, you were hoping for a haircut so you can match your brother.”

“Is it my imagination or is that concern in your voice?” the warlord asked.

“Hardly. More like annoyance.” She continued down the steps and grabbed Ragnar’s forearm. “Come. We need to talk.”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t question me, Gwenvael.”

“But Keita—”

“Later. I need to talk to Ragnar.” Keita stopped by the servant.

“Please ensure our Northland guests have all they need. I believe they were taken to the third floor. Make sure they have food. My sister has a tendency to forget that sort of thing.” She glanced at what stood behind the servant, a large bone held in its mouth. She’d seen a lot of those around the territory.

More than she’d seen before. Must be an overpopulation issue. Something she could help with. “Dog might do. Roasted. Not heavy on the salt.” She sighed longingly. “Roasted dog. Yum.” She pressed her hand to her stomach and realized how hungry she was. “Send some up to my room as well. We’ll be back in a bit.”

Keita hopped off the last step and looked back at Ragnar. Shocked at the warlord, she could only ask over his laughter, “What’s so funny?”

“Keita—” her brother said.

“What?”

Gwenvael put his arm around the servant, and Keita sighed softly in exasperation. Why her brother felt the need to protect every female, especially now when he had some barbarian warlord mate of his own, was beyond Keita’s reckoning. It wasn’t as if she’d battered the female into submission or something. She’d given her simple orders to follow. That was her job, wasn’t it?

“I’d like you to meet Dagmar Reinholdt,” Gwenvael said.

Really? Now there had to be proper introductions to servants? But Keita didn’t want to argue any more with her siblings. Even Gwenvael.

“Nice to meet you, Dagmar. You can call me Lady Keita.” That seemed to make Ragnar laugh harder, when the dragon rarely laughed at all. He especially didn’t laugh like this.

“What is so funny?” she demanded.

“Dagmar Reinholdt,” her brother said again, as if she hadn’t understood him the first damn time. “Thirteenth Offspring of The Reinholdt, Only Daughter of The Reinholdt, Chief Battle Lord of Dark Plains, Adviser to Queen Annwyl, Human Liaison to the Southland Dragon Elders, and my mate. ”