Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(102)

“He’s a dragon, too.”

Kachka scratched her head. “By the horse gods, they’re everywhere.”

The bear—another dragon, Kachka would guess—stepped in front of Annwyl, his big hands on her shoulders, his face turned away, his eyes closed tight.

“Please, Annwyl!” the bear begged. “Please just calm down!”

“Look!” the queen yelled, her arm swinging out toward Kachka and Elina. “Look what that bitch did to her!”

The two males and Annwyl looked over at Elina, and Kachka and her sister glanced at each other, then behind them. They didn’t see anyone back there so Kachka quickly realized Annwyl was talking about Elina.

“Me?” Elina said, pointing at her chest.

“I will not let this go unanswered!” the queen raged.

“I know you’re upset, Annwyl,” the bear went on, “but let’s wait until Dagmar or Bram gets here. Then we can all sit down and discuss the best course of—”

The queen, clearly not liking what she was hearing, grabbed the bear by his blue hair and yanked him down and around.

“Owwwwwwwwwwwwww!”

She stepped past the bear and out the doors.

Kachka turned to Elina, about to say something, when she heard the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh. The queen stumbled back into the hall and a tall, brown-skinned woman followed her in. The queen was stunned by the first hit, and before she could take a swing of her own, the brown-skinned woman punched her in the face again, then once more. The third hit landed the queen on her back, and the brown-skinned woman shook out her hand. “Her bloody jaw is like granite!”

Celyn rushed in with another woman who resembled him greatly but who had shorter black hair. He stopped right in the doorway and looked down at the queen.

“Tell me I did that for a good reason,” the brown-skinned woman growled.

“You probably prevented a war. So . . . good job, Iz!”

“I think I broke my hand.”

“Don’t whine,” he said, rushing over to Elina and Kachka. “Are you two all right?”

“Are they all right?” the silver-haired one demanded as he bled heavily from his leg wound. “What about me?”

“Is all this because of me?” Elina asked, pointing at the queen.

Celyn shrugged. “Annwyl has issues with . . . family. She didn’t really get along with her father. Or her brother.” He glanced back at the silver-haired male but quickly turned away, not appearing interested in that one’s plight at all. “I had a feeling she would react this way once she found out Glebovicha was your mother.”

“Gods,” the bear said loudly, “she’s waking up!”

“Don’t just stand there, you idiots!” the gold one yelled. “Get some chains!”

“Chains will never hold her,” the brown-skinned girl nearly screamed. “Let’s make a run for it!”

“Where is Fearghus? Why are we dealing with this?”

“Again,” the silver-haired one yelled. “I am bleeding here! Are none of you going to help me?”

“Daddy, please!” the brown one chastised, shocking the silver-haired one.

“I say,” the gold one suggested, “that we give Annwyl Briec—since he’s bleeding to death anyway—and then burn the whole bloody place down around them.”

“Really?” the silver-haired one snapped. “That’s your grand plan, idiot?”

“You’d survive the flame!”

“She’d survive the flame as well, only then she’d be more pissed off!”

“Someone find Morfyd,” the bear ordered. “She can magickally bind her. That’ll hold her until Fearghus gets back.”

“Why can’t you just contact Morfyd yourself?” the one who resembled Celyn demanded.

“Because she’s blocking me, which means she’s probably with Brastias doing things I don’t want to talk about when it’s my sister.”

“I know where she is then,” the female who resembled Celyn said, charging out of the hall.

“She’s moving,” the brown-skinned woman said. “Do something!”

“I’m not hitting her,” the bear snapped back.

“I hit her.”

“You she’ll forgive.”

“Well, my hand is broken. Until Morfyd or my mother fixes it, I can’t hit her.”

The males shrugged, each one refusing to do anything, including helping the silver-haired male still bleeding on the floor.

“All of you are weak!” the brown-skinned female snarled before she walked over to the queen, who had pushed her head and shoulders up off the floor with her elbows.

“Sorry, Annwyl,” the female said before she kicked the queen in the jaw, knocking her out again.

Celyn grinned at the sisters and gave a courtly bow. “My Lady Elina. My Lady Kachka. Welcome to the Southlands!”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Fearghus walked into the bedroom he shared with Annwyl and went to the desk where he kept personal correspondence. He placed the scrolls he’d received from one of the generals regarding defenses on the outskirts of Southland territories onto the desk and removed his travel bag. He dropped that on the floor and turned to leave.