Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(12)

Their mother shifted to human and, with arms wide open, walked toward them.

“Clothes!” their father barked. “Clothes, female!”

Rhiannon stopped, her arms dropping to her sides. “These tedious humans with their insecurities. Who has time for all this?”

Bercelak threw a burgundy velvet robe around his mate’s shoulders. “Five bloody seconds. It takes all of five bloody seconds to cover yourself.”

After putting her arms through the sleeves, she knotted a belt around her waist to hold the robe closed and impatiently waited while her mate tugged on black leggings and boots.

“Why are you here, Mum?” Fearghus asked.

“Éibhear called to me. Said to meet him and Izzy here. They should be along shortly.”

“What’s happened now?”

“Nothing any of you have to worry about. Good gods, what is that?”

“What is what?”

“That giant, phallic-looking building.” She pointed at the tower Annwyl had been having built for quite a few weeks now. The stonemason was hurrying to finish his project before the harsh snowstorms of the winter season began to hit.

“That is Annwyl’s tower.”

“Tower? What does she need a tower for? Does she plan to torture a lot of people?” Rhiannon frowned. “Gods, she plans to torture a lot of people.”

“Mum,” Fearghus said. “You left your mountain fortress for a reason. Why not just tell me rather than giving me a lot of horse shit. What is it?”

She stroked her hand against Fearghus’s cheek. “Always so smart. You make me so very proud.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I know.” She grinned and walked around him. “I know.”

Boots on, their father stood beside Gwenvael. “Why are we just standing here?” he demanded.

Fearghus frowned. “We were waiting for you.”

With a grunt, the dragon pushed past his sons, but before Fearghus could throttle the mean bastard, Rhiannon caught one of Fearghus’s arms and Gwenvael caught the other.

“Why is he always such a rude bastard?” Fearghus growled.

“Only to you lot,” Rhiannon reminded him, patting his arm. “He adores me.”

Celyn and Brannie neared the open front doors of the Great Hall while the arguing between Briec and Annwyl continued.

The siblings had only this one chance to escape and they knew it. But just as they reached their last step to freedom, they were suddenly blocked by the Dragon Queen and more of their royal cousins.

“Brannie! Darling!” Rhiannon called out happily, her arms opening wide to grab Brannie in a smothering hold.

Celyn eased past his queen, more than ready to leave his sister to fend for herself as she would have done to him if their positions were reversed, but a large hand gripped him around the throat and pushed him back.

“Cousin!” Gwenvael falsely cheered. “How wonderful to see you! It’s been . . . days. At least.”

Celyn pushed against his cousin’s chest, but tried his best to hide his desperation from his queen and uncle.

“Come!” Gwenvael continued. “Join us!”

“Let me go, you bastard!” Celyn snarled softly at his older cousin.

“No, no! You’re family! You must join us!” Gwenvael’s voice lowered to a mean whisper. “I insist.”

It had been years—bloody years!—since Gwenvael had warned a very young Celyn not to go near his adopted niece, Iseabail the Dangerous. A warning Celyn had promptly ignored. And a few years later, when it had come out that Celyn and Izzy had become lovers, Gwenvael had made it his business to torment his cousin. Celyn didn’t know why. Chasing after unrelated, beautiful females was something Gwenvael had always done himself before he’d mated with Dagmar. And, according to Annwyl, Gwenvael had definitely at least tried with her before Fearghus had properly Claimed Annwyl as his.

Surprisingly, though, Gwenvael was shockingly sly about his small bouts of revenge. Never making a big deal of it, or involving his brothers. It was as if he wanted to hide the fact that something so minor bothered him so much. He was considered the jovial one of the royal siblings, after all.

But none of that changed the fact that the golden-haired bastard was currently making Celyn’s throbbing head that much worse.

Gwenvael reached out and grabbed Celyn’s shoulder, spun him around, and shoved him forward.

“Mum!” the bastard cheered. “Look who’s here to escort you home once you’re ready to go? Our wonderful cousin Celyn!”

With her arm tight around Brannie’s shoulders, her grin appearing as plotting and unholy as her son’s, the queen said, “Wonderful! And dear, sweet Brannie can stay, too! I simply adore family time!”

Gwenvael’s arm looped around Celyn’s neck and his chin rested on Celyn’s shoulder. “So do I, Mummy. So do I!”

Chapter Five

Éibhear the Contemptible shifted to human and quickly pulled on leggings. He had to drag on his boots while following an angry, stalking Izzy. The only thing keeping her from completely outpacing him was that she wasn’t running and he had longer legs.

“Izzy, wait!” he yelled after her, even though he knew she wouldn’t listen. Not when she was this pissed off. “Iseabail!”