Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(59)

And it was true that Addolgar’s nephew could be a little chatty for a dragon. The boy did like to talk. Even more annoying, ask questions. But nothing that couldn’t be stopped with a, “Shut it, Celyn.” Yet, Ghleanna had insisted on babying the dragon as if he were as weak as her Fal. Also one of Addolgar’s nephews, but one he liked to pretend wasn’t.

Addolgar moved closer as Celyn got to his claws and gestured at the human female beside him. “Uncle Addolgar, this is Elina of the Impossibly Long Name.”

“That is not my name, Dolt,” the female shot back.

“And Dolt is not mine.”

“And yet you continue to act like one!”

“I am Addolgar the Cheerful,” Addolgar stepped in before the bickering could start again. “And what is your name?”

“I am Elina Shestakova of the Black Bear Riders of the Midnight Mountains of Despair in the Far Reaches of the Steppes of the Outerplains.”

Gods! That was a long name. No wonder Celyn refused to use it. He probably couldn’t remember it.

“But,” the woman went on, “you can call me Elina Shestakova.”

“Nice to meet you, Elina Shestakova.” Addolgar glanced around. “So what happened here?”

“Costentyn is dead, Uncle. Murdered.”

“Old Costentyn? Murdered? By these bastards?” he asked, gesturing around him.

“Baron Roscommon ordered it.”

“Did he now?” Addolgar sneered.

“He did,” Celyn said. “And I think he should be dealt with quickly and by us.”

“Probably a good idea.”

Addolgar studied the woman for a bit as she cleaned and sharpened her arrows. Or, at least, what remained of them. Based on the bloody cloth she was using, she’d been helpful while Celyn faced all those men. He liked that. Nothing bothered Addolgar more these days than weak females. He hadn’t always felt that way. At one time he’d just liked them pretty and eager, but things change, don’t they?

Addolgar glanced back at the battle unit that had traveled with him, focusing on the young blue-haired She-dragon. “My bag, Elara.”

“Here, Daddy,” she said when she tossed the bag to him, nearly knocking him off his claws from the power of her throw. He remembered when she couldn’t even take him to the ground during training. Now, like the rest of her sisters, she’d grown into a powerful dragoness. Just like her mum, too, favoring the hammer and all. She’d gotten damn good at it.

Addolgar dug into his travel bag and pulled out the cloth-covered stash of arrows that he used in his human-sized bows. He handed them to the human female. “Take these, Elina Shestakova. You look low.”

She unwrapped the big stack and grinned. “Thank you so much, Addolgar the Cheerful.” She pulled out one of the arrows, examining it closely. As she did, she went on. “Although you do not seem so cheerful. Is that his fault?” she asked with a jerk of her head in Celyn’s direction.

Addolgar’s nephew threw his claws up. “Now you’re just attacking me.”

“You make it easy!” she snapped back, her focus still on the arrows.

There were many arrows in the stack Addolgar had given her, but they weren’t all the same because he’d taken most from the bodies of his fallen enemies. He even had orc arrows in there somewhere.

He watched her test one. Her form was perfect, and she took down a squirrel that he could barely see several hundred yards away.

Addolgar grinned. He liked this woman. He wasn’t so sure, though, whether his nephew did.

“Are you done showing off?” Celyn sniffed.

“Are you done being pain in ass?”

“As a matter of fact . . . I’m not!”

“Celyn,” Addolgar cut in again, “perhaps we should talk about what we plan to do.”

“Of course, Uncle.”

“Oh, look,” the woman taunted. “You can follow orders.”

“You don’t give me orders, insolent female.”

“Do not point talons at me, Dolt!”

“I’ll point my talons anywhere I want to. Because I don’t take orders from you.”

Addolgar glanced back at his daughter and crossed his eyes. And, as it did with her mother, that made her laugh.

Celyn didn’t know why Elina was being so mean to him. Before Addolgar had arrived, they’d been getting along. Now, she was sniping at him like some fishmonger’s wife.

And he was sniping back; he simply didn’t know why. Over the years he’d found not reacting to those yelling at him was infinitely more effective than yelling back. The calmer he remained, the angrier they became, until they snapped. Gods knew, he used to do it with his cousins all the time.

Yet now, this one tiny, pale, ready-for-death female was making him angrier than he’d ever been before. Over nothing. That was the worst part. Angry over the murder of Costentyn? Completely justifiable. Angry over this woman’s general rudeness . . . ? A bit absurd.

Addolgar’s claw landed on the back of Celyn’s neck and he cringed, waiting for Addolgar to slam his head into the nearest tree. Sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time his uncle had done this to him . . . or to his brothers. His sisters, including mouthy Brannie, had all managed to avoid the Addolgar Head Tree Slam—as the brothers called it when they woke up a few days later.