Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(127)

“Here they are!” he called out triumphantly.

Bram glanced around, quickly realizing he was talking to the air again. That was always awkward.

He turned and walked toward the castle steps, shifting to human as he did so. And the whole time he walked, he sensed he’d forgotten to do something . . . but damned if he could remember what it was.

Izzy finally made it downstairs and into the Great Hall by early afternoon. Éibhear was already at the dining table, but he had his head resting on his folded arms and she might have heard snoring.

Gratefully taking the tea one of the servants handed her—they’d been through enough Cadwaladr family feasts to know how to treat any lingering morning-after effects—Izzy pushed at her mate’s shoulder until he sat up and she could settle on his lap.

“We are never drinking like that again,” Éibhear promised as all the Cadwaladrs promised.

A promise they never kept.

She leaned in, kissed him. “Drink some of this tea.”

“What will tea do?”

“It is Morfyd’s recipe. It’ll help.”

“Morning!” Brannie announced before dropping into a chair next to Izzy and Éibhear. Both of them growled at her, but she only smiled wider.

“I was smart,” Brannie noted. “I didn’t drink nearly as much as you two.”

“Only because you were running around, gossiping, all night,” Izzy noted. “I had no idea you could be as bad as Morfyd.”

“This is about my brother. How could I not gossip? Our older sisters will definitely want to know what’s going on. I have to have all the information.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure that’s it.”

“Your sarcasm bites, old friend.” Brannie reached over and took the tea out of Izzy’s hand before Éibhear could take a sip, eliciting another growl from the dragon. But if Brannie noticed . . .

“Do you think Celyn will really take Elina as his mate?”

“Yes,” Izzy and Éibhear answered together.

Their quick and confident response surprised Brannie. “Why? Because he feels sorry about what happened to her eye? Because that was her mother’s doing. My brother—”

“Brannie, Brannie,” Éibhear said in a tone that suggested he was talking to a small child. “This has nothing to do with the loss of her eye. Your brother will choose Elina Shestakova as his mate because she f*cks him stupider than he already is.”

Izzy laughed at that, but Brannie didn’t.

“You’re talking about my brother, worthless Mì-runach.”

“Don’t act like an innocent with me, cousin. I’ve been on campaign with you, and seen more than one battle-weary soldier tossed from your tent when you were done with him . . . or them.” Izzy cringed at that, ready to step in if the fight between cousins turned physical. Gods, she hated when it turned physical while she was still recovering from the prior evening’s drink. “So don’t pretend with me. Ever.”

“I’ll have you know, Éibhear the Idiotic, that I—”

Brannie’s words stopped when Fearghus walked into the hall. “Morning, Izzy. Brannie. Have either of you seen Annwyl?”

“You can’t even be bothered to greet me? I’m your brother.”

Fearghus looked Éibhear over, said nothing, and focused again on Izzy, his eyebrows raised in question.

Izzy shook her head, trying not to giggle at the torture of her mate. His brothers were so mean to him. Still! After all these years!

“No,” she replied. “Haven’t seen Annwyl. Why?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t been able to find her and—”

“So she’s gone?” Izzy asked as she curled her fingers into her hand and dug her short, battered nails into her palm to help keep herself calm.

“I’m sure she’s around some—”

“I’m sure she’s around somewhere, too. Why don’t you go outside and look for her?”

“I should probably go check the library fir—”

“Great idea. Go check the library.”

Fearghus frowned at that, but then shrugged and walked off. When he had disappeared deep into the bowels of the house . . .

“Dammit!” Brannie slammed her hand against the table as Izzy jumped off Éibhear’s lap and began to pace. “I told you, Izzy. I told you she was not going to let that thing with the Rider go. Not in a million years.”

“All right, all right.” Izzy put her hands to her head. “Let’s not panic.”

“I don’t know why you two are worried,” Éibhear calmly reasoned. “I’m sure Annwyl is just—”

“I said not to panic!” Izzy yelled into Éibhear’s face.

The dragon leaned away from her, his hands raised. “I wasn’t.”

“We have to go get her.” Brannie stood. “Now. Before anyone realizes she’s gone.”

“Éibhear, get Gwenvael and Daddy. Have them meet us outside the gates in fifteen minutes. Do not tell Dagmar or Mum. Morfyd either. They’ll just get upset. We especially don’t need for the Iron dragons to hear of this either.”

“She couldn’t have gotten far,” Brannie desperately reasoned. “It takes days to travel to that part of the Steppes. She’s on horseback. If we fly, we’ll catch up and bring her back before it’s even late afternoon.”