The Dragon Who Loved Me (Dragon Kin #5)(21)

“Uh-huh.”

“Unattached old friends. So leave it be.”

Except Vigholf wasn’t sure he could.

Rhona blasted the deer with her flame, using the power of it to turn the carcass over and over until it was wonderful y roasted on al sides. She reached for it and lifted it onto her shoulder. That’s when Vigholf asked, “Do you want to be attached?” Rhona froze. Al these questions were beginning to get strange. Then again, the barbarian was strange.

“Attached to what?”

“A mate of your own.”

“Guess I hadn’t thought much about it. Why?”

“No reason.”

“How could you have no reason to ask me that?” Rhona snapped.

“Because I don’t.”

“Wel , you don’t have to snarl!” She turned away from him.

“But,” he said to her back, “you’re not against having a mate?”

Rhona faced him again. “Why are you asking me these questions?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“Wel , be curious with another female.”

“Why? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me except that I’d never settle for a male who wouldn’t fight with me in battle.”

“I’ve been fighting with you in battle for five years.”

“Not wil ingly.”

“That’s ox shit. When have I ever said—”

“‘Females . . . fighting by my side?’” Rhona imitated in her low, making-fun-of-Vigholf voice that she used to entertain the triplets. “‘When did the hel s come to earth?’”

He blinked. “Oh. Al right. I may have said those words before, but—”

“But what?”

“But not when it’s been you. I’ve never said those words about you. You’ve impressed me from the beginning.”

“How very big of you,” she snipped, again turning away from him. “You lunkhead.” Rhona took a few steps, but Vigholf cut in front of her. “I’l admit that my opinion of female fighters was that there were none. But,” he quickly added when she hissed, “you and your sisters have changed my opinion on that belief. Shame I can’t say the same about you believing al Northlanders are barbarians.”

“You are al barbarians.”

“Even Ragnar?”

“Wel . . . no. But he’s different. Special.”

Vigholf ’s left eye twitched and she suddenly felt fear for Ragnar’s safety. But, after a moment, Vigholf went on. “And has any of my brethren tried kidnapping one of you, forcing you into a Claiming?”

Rhona rol ed her eyes. “No.”

He took a step toward her, slowly closing the gap between them. “Have some of us not proven ourselves to be excel ent strategists in battle rather than berserkers you need to leash between fights?”

“I guess.”

Another step. “Haven’t we been polite and considerate to al the female warriors even when they’re throwing ale, starting fights, and general y being a bit crazed?”

She let out a breath. “Most of you, yes.”

“Then how about giving us a break? Giving me a break?” Another step. “Since we’re al doing so wel , that is.” They were nearly touching now, his grey eyes gazing down at her.

“I have to get this meat to Ren,” she said. “He needs to eat before we can return to the skies.”

“Al right.”

But he didn’t move or stop looking at her that way. She couldn’t explain what that way was—but it was that way. So Rhona forced herself to walk around him and slowly headed back to her cousin and friend.

Although to be honest, she real y wanted to make a run for it. She just didn’t know why.

Chapter 8

Morfyd the White, Eldest Daughter and Third-Born Offspring of Dragon Queen Rhiannon, Heir to the Queen’s Magicks, and Battle Mage for Queen Annwyl’s Army, tracked down her human mate.

She rode her horse around hurrying troops, cooks, riders, scouts, and al the others that made up a human queen’s army.

“Morfyd?” Her human mate, Brastias, general of Queen Annwyl’s army, pushed his men aside to stand by her. “What is it?”

“We move now for the Euphrasia Val ey.”

“So soon? I thought we had a few more—”

“The Sovereigns aren’t pul ing back. They’ve moved out. Heading to the Val ey.” Brastias glanced out over what had been their battleground for nearly five years. His laugh was a little bitter. “I’d hoped they’d been running from our relentless onslaught.” He looked up at her. “But they’re off to help the Irons.”

“Aye. They’re already heading there.”

“You’ve seen it.”

“I’ve seen what the gods have shown me.”

“Could the gods be lying?”

“Of course. But we both know they aren’t this time.”

Brastias nodded. “So we fol ow.”

“Take the Eastern Pass. If I remember the terrain correctly, you’l be able to cut the Sovereign army in half.” He nodded, turned to the commanders of Annwyl’s legions. “We move. Now,” he ordered. “Bring only what each man needs. No more.”