What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(100)

He was there, in front of her, pulling her close, his arms tight around her.

“You’ll not say that again,” he told her gruffly. “You’ve done all you could. Now I want you to let it go, love.”

She did. For hours. Sobbing into the poor man’s surcoat until she practically passed out in his arms from exhaustion.

Izzy dashed up one of the highest hills within three leagues of Dark Plains and screamed into the night, “What have you done?”

When there was no immediate answer, she bellowed, “Don’t you dare … Don’t you dare ignore me!”

The flame-imbued lightning flashed out and Izzy barely moved in time as it struck at her feet.

“Ordering me?” a voice she knew as well as her mother’s boomed. “Me?”

“You should have protected her! I told her to trust you!”

Rhydderch Hael, the father god of all dragons, appeared. He did not come out of the darkness as much as he was a vast part of it. His dragon body stretched for what looked like miles and his hair glowed in the moonlight. She’d seen him three times now like this. Before her mum had sacrificed herself to save Izzy seven months ago, she’d only met Rhydderch Hael in her dreams. If it was urgent, she’d hear him in her head.

Lately, however, things had changed. He’d appeared the first time while she’d been off practicing with her spear by one of the lakes. She’d tried to hug him, but she couldn’t even hope to reach her arms around him, so she sort of ended up squeezing his enormous dragon neck. They’d talked for hours, and Izzy had promised never to tell that he’d come to her in physical form. But his voice could still pop in her head unbidden. Like it had that morning when he told her it was time for Annwyl’s babes to be born.

She’d given her childhood heart to Rhydderch Hael a long time ago. And then she’d given her soul in order to save her mother.

“We all make sacrifices, little Izzy.”

“You’re a bastard,” she snapped. “A right bastard.”

His dark violet eyes flashed and his twelve-horned head lowered a bit. “And I’m still the god you’ve committed your life to. Your loyalty is to me.”

“My loyalty is to my kin. And they’re my kin. You’re not.”

“You say dangerous words, little Izzy.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care because my queen is dying. And it’s all your fault.” She wiped her face and realized at that moment that she was crying. “I know you’re a god, and we mean nothing to you. But just remember, those babes are your creation. No one will protect them like their own mother. Like Annwyl. No one.”

Rhydderch Hael yawned and motioned her away with his claw. “Go home, little Izzy.”

His black dragon body shimmered, and then he was gone. And she felt the betrayal all the way to her bones.

* * *

Dagmar stood outside Gwenvael’s door. She’d almost knocked three times. This wasn’t like her. Not knowing how to handle something. She handled everything. But she didn’t know whether stopping by would be … inappropriate? That seemed the best word.

Their one night together did not mean anything more than what it was.

But she was worried about him. Everyone seemed to be taking all of this so hard. Even the servants and the soldiers. On her way in, she’d passed poor Izzy running out. She didn’t bother trying to stop her, knowing the girl needed her own time to deal with this.

She knew Gwenvael loved Annwyl, and she felt the almost overwhelming need to care for him, which seemed absolutely ridiculous.

Besides, would Gwenvael even want that kind of comfort? At least from her?

She hated feeling like this. Insecure and confused. It wasn’t like her, but she guessed everyone had these moments.

The door was snatched open and she looked up into Gwenvael’s face.

“How long were you going to stand out here?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I just—”

He grabbed her hand and dragged her into the room, slamming the door shut. He pulled her over to the bed and pushed her onto it.

“Roll onto your side,” he ordered. “Facing the window.”

“All right.” She did as he bade, the bed behind her dipping a bit as Gwenvael, fully dressed, crawled in behind her. His arm wrapped around her waist and he moved in close behind her. He rested his chin against the top of her head, and they both lay there staring out the window.

Neither spoke, nor moved, and they remained where they were until the two suns rose the next morning.

Chapter 25

Keita the Virtuous, a name recently given to her that would cause her brother Gwenvael to roll around the floor and laugh like a hatchling should he hear it, stared out over the cold, hard lands of the Northlands. She was in Horde territory, standing on the flat mountaintop of the Olgeirsson Horde lair, and all she could see for miles and miles in either direction were more snow-covered mountaintops.

But for nearing two weeks now, she’d been trapped in this place … with these dragons.

She had yet to meet a Lightning who wasn’t a barbarian. Appalling manners, distasteful habits, and brains the size of cooked peas. Every day had been a new experience in dealing with idiots.

Yet, as with most idiots, they were crafty enough.

Her talons brushed the steel collar locked around her neck. A long chain went from it to the spike buried in the floor and surrounded by several-feet-deep marble.