What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(108)

“I’ve read enough about the dragon gods to know that will be of no use to me. I can flatter you with compliments, but what will it buy me?”

“So then why are you here, my good Lady Dagmar?”

“I want to understand why.”

“Why what?”

“Why you’d do this to them. There was no one protecting my mother or me, so her death was unavoidable. But these babes”—she pointed at the twins, who tugged on their mother trying to get her attention—“they’re your creation. Why would you do this to them?”

“I’ve done nothing to them.”

“Taking their mother from them? Do you think they’ll forgive you?”

“They’ll have to understand. She’s too weak to protect them.”

“Now, yes, she is. But not before she was pregnant. And you’re a god. You could give that back to her.”

“If I deemed her worthy. I don’t. But fear not, sweet Dagmar, I’m taking them away from here. I’ll protect them and make sure they’re raised properly. I did a very good job with Izzy.”

“You don’t think their father will do a good job?”

“He’s very angry. He doesn’t want to blame them, but he does.”

“He wouldn’t have to if you gave him his mate back. Only she can protect these children.”

“That’s what I thought.” He glanced down at her, an insulting pout on his lips. Insulting because he wasn’t nearly as sad as he pretended.

“They will never forgive you,” she promised.

“They won’t have to know.”

“Ahhh, I see. Take them from their kin and they’ll never hear the stories about how you killed their mother.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

“Yes, you did. This is down to you, my lord. You and only you.”

“Well, it’s too late now.” He dismissed her with a wave, becoming frustrated. “By tonight, she’ll be greeting her ancestors. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

Her mind moving fast, Dagmar tried to find a way out of this. A way to help the babes first and perhaps, if she were lucky, Annwyl second. But for some reason, she could only think about wool socks. What in all of reason did wool socks have to do with anything?

She no longer even had that pair she brought with her. She’d given it to …

Dagmar rested her hand on the baseboard of the bed, steadying herself. She had only one chance here; she’d better make it good.

“And what of your mate, Rhydderch Hael?”

He stared at her. “What of her?”

“Ragnar told me the stories about the dragon gods.”

He laughed. “You mean when you thought he was a monk?” When she didn’t laugh along, he let out a bored sigh. “So what about my mate? And can we make this speedy?”

“I have a theory.”

“That does not sound speedy.”

“Everything I’ve read by humans or been told by Ragnar and those who traveled with him is that Eirianwen, your mate and the most feared goddess of war, is a dragoness.”

“I grow so bored,” he suddenly said.

“I’m sure you do. But just hear me out. I found this very old text written by a monk believed to be completely insane—”

“That’s always a good source.”

“—and he wrote about a tale of two goddesses. One, Arzhela. A goddess of beauty, light, and fertility. Loved by all the human gods. Worshipped as one of the most loved deities. Then there was her younger sister. Eirianwen. A dark goddess. Opposite in purpose and even looks. She favored the desert gods. Brown of skin and hair and eyes. And”—now she made a sad, pouting face—“so unfairly feared. Even by her own sisters and brothers. Because she looked nothing like them and she had a blood thirst rivaled by few. It makes sense she’d become a god of war. Aaah.” She wagged her finger. “But few human warriors would worship her. Those who followed Arzhela had nothing but horrible things to say about poor Eirianwen and gave her nothing but a horrible reputation throughout the land. Saddened, Eirianwen wandered away, becoming the traveling war god. Until she eventually wandered into the midst of the dragon gods. Unfortunately, she was human and they did not like human gods.”

Feeling her confidence return, Dagmar moved closer toward him. “And just as Eirianwen was about to give up and wander away yet again, tragically dismissed by everyone, she met the father of all dragons. Oh, and he took quite a shine to her, and so he and she could … well … you know, he turned himself to human. A skill he only had because he was a god. None of has own creations could turn to human, which had never been a problem until the humans began to fight back on being dinner.

“Then Arzhela found out about you and Eirianwen, didn’t she? And she was not happy, mostly because she still had no mate of her own. How could her scary, over-muscled, blood-drenched, murderous baby sister have a mate and not she? Even worse, he wasn’t one of the human gods but one of those scaly reptiles.”

When that received a raised eyebrow, she held her hands up. “Merely repeating the text I read, my lord.”

“Of course.”

“So there was war because that’s how things are handled between gods. A surprise attack was planned, with the retrieval of Eirianwen added in for good measure. Because it wouldn’t be right if they didn’t bring her back to her own kind who had been treating her so wonderfully up to this point.” He smirked at her dry tone. “But Arzhela, always a little too confident, forgot that her sister was a god of war. Battle, blood, and strategy are her friends, just as reason and logic are mine. She knew this would be coming and planned a counterattack, rallying all the other dragon gods to your side. And by doing so, she risked everything for you.” Dagmar moved in until the hem of her dress mingled with his long hair. “Because when the battle was done and the air cleared, there was no more crossing over from one god domain to the next. She was now part of the dragon pantheon.”