Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(77)

“Stay out of my head, warlord!”

“Try to control where your thoughts go, princess.”

“And that sounded like prince-ass!”

He smirked. “Are we going back before your baby brother starts sobbing?”

She pointed a warning finger at him. “Never, and I mean never, pick on my brother.”

“Isn’t he a little big to coddle?”

Keita slid off Ragnar’s lap and stood. “You will stay out of my head.”

“Why? What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing, but it’s rude and invasive. And as powerful as you claim to be, you should have as easy a time blocking out what you hear as you do hearing it.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now can we go?”

The warlord got to his feet, moving with an ease belied by his size. To be honest, she always expected him to lumber a bit more.

“Now remember,” she told him, smoothing down her dress, her hair,

“just let me take the lead on this and all will be well. We can decide later if we want to take that kiss further.”

Ragnar’s arm wrapped around her waist as he walked by, pulling her into his chest. “You’re trying to drive me insane—I won’t let you.”

“I am not—”

“And we will damn well take that kiss further.”

“Oh, you think so, do—”

He kissed her again, stunning her with the power of it. But as quickly as he started, he ended it, releasing her with a hard swat to her ass.

“Let’s go, princess. You have to get dressed for dinner and get me that damn antidote.”

“I’ll have to have it made, so you’ll get it after dinner or tomorrow.

And I’m still hearing prince- ass!” she shouted.

Amhar the Blood Drinker watched his niece follow after that Lightning. He’d been so focused on the carcass at his feet that he’d thought she’d gone inside long ago. But when he lifted his head, she was just standing up in the tall grass and the Lightning was right behind her.

Amhar didn’t like the looks of all that. Especially that swat to the ass.

The kiss meant nothing to him; it was the ass swat that he saw as a stronger message of intent.

Although his niece might be freer than most with males—she took after a lot of his sisters on that score—no respectable female in their family would ever lower herself to bed down with some barbarian snake with wings. And as one of the royals, Keita had to know better than that.

Then again, the only thing Keita the Viper knew better was how to get herself into trouble.

Worried, but not one to deal with a female issue himself, Amhar decided to discuss it with one of his sisters first. He definitely wouldn’t be the one to bring it to Bercelak’s attention. One of his nephews had lost the fangs on the left side of his head because he’d suggested that Keita should be locked away in a nunnery so she wouldn’t bring shame on her kin. Not that Amhar could blame his brother. Bercelak protected his daughters like Amhar did, as their father had taught them to. Some of his nephews either needed to learn to keep their mouths closed or put up a better fight.

Deciding what his next course of action would be, Amhar went back to his nearly devoured carcass and thought no more about it for the moment.

Chapter Twenty

Dagmar smoothed her grey gown into place and glanced at herself in the extremely tall standing mirror. Good enough, she reasoned and stepped away, only to be pulled back by her mate.

As he liked to do, he tugged the front of her gown down to reveal more cle**age.

“Is this necessary?”

“I’m already beautiful—you want to at least keep up.” He turned her around and lifted the back of her dress until it rested over her rear.

“What are you doing?”

“I think you should wear your gown like this to show my mark.”

“And why, by all reason, would I do that?”

“So your Lord Ragnar knows who you belong to.”

“He’s not my…” Dagmar stopped, gazed at the floor. After a moment, she lifted her head and asked, “Are you jealous?”

“I prefer the term proprietary.”

“You’re jealous…over me?”

“You are mine. I thought I made this clear long before I marked your ass. Perhaps I need to mark it again to—”

Dagmar raised her hand, silencing her mate. “Please. Allow me a moment to enjoy this.”

It wasn’t merely that the most arrogant and vain male she’d ever known was jealous, it was that any male was jealous over her. She’d long ago accepted the fact that beauty was not something she could count on to get her through life.

Still, moments like these did manage to surprise and delight her when they happened—and they happened more than she’d thought possible with her impossible dragon.

“I do not trust that smile of yours.” His arm slipped around her waist.

“Back to bed. I sense I need to exert my dominance yet again.” She attempted—rather weakly, she’d admit—to pry his arm from around her waist. “I will not leave my Northland comrades alone with your brothers at dinner tonight.”

“When did they become comrades?” Gwenvael tossed her onto their bed. “Spread your legs, woman. Prepare yourself.”