What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(109)

“So what?”

“Dragons’ ability to shift to human is not a gift from you at all, is it? It’s a gift from her. Because of her love for you and desire to protect your kind as best she could.” Dagmar tapped his chest with her forefinger. “That explains why, when the dragons of the Southlands fly into battle, it is her colors they wear under their armor. It is her powers that their battle mages call upon. Not yours.”

The Dragon God said nothing, merely stared.

“That was Morfyd and Talaith’s mistake all along, wasn’t it? It should have been Eirianwen they called upon. Eirianwen to protect Annwyl. Because of the two of you, she seems to be the one with the heart. The one who cares.”

She stepped back from him. “I know! Perhaps I will call on her. I’ve never called on a god before, but as a follower of Aoibhell, I’m sure my call will be heard by all the gods. Dragon, human or otherwise. Perhaps she will be able to do,” she sneered, “what you are not powerful enough to do!”

Then his hand was wrapped tightly around her throat, stopping any more words or air from escaping her mouth. He lifted Dagmar from the floor, ignoring the way she clawed at his fingers.

“So very smart, Dagmar Reinholdt. So very, very smart. Let’s see just how smart you are.”

He released her, tossing her back in the process. Coughing and trying to get her breath back, Dagmar didn’t have a moment to ask what he meant before he slipped his hand under Annwyl’s neck and tilted her head back. He kissed her then, and Dagmar watched as he pulled the last breath from her lungs, the Magicks that had kept her breathing, harshly ripped from her.

The dragon god stepped back and Annwyl’s arm fell to the side, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

He’d killed her.

Dagmar felt panic sweep through her, her body trembling as she stared at the dead queen.

“Now her death is on your head, human.” He placed Annwyl’s twins in Dagmar’s arms. “The question is … Will the twins’ deaths be on your head as well? I think so.”

“Wait—”

He turned from her, snapped his fingers, and when Dagmar blinked again she was no longer safe in the Garbhán Isle castle. She was underground in a tunnel somewhere, the babes in her arms crying because they’d felt the last gasp of their mother.

And at her feet was Annwyl’s naked corpse, the wound from where they’d opened her up to get to the babes no longer bleeding since there was nothing left inside her to bleed out.

Slowly Dagmar raised her gaze and kept raising it until she could look into the face of the nine-foot beast standing before her. The light from the torches they used to allow them to clearly see their work as they dug out one of the recently closed tunnels glinted off the creature’s horns.

“It seems today,” the Minotaur said softly, grinning down at her and the babes, “the gods have decided to treat their most loyal servants with gifts.”

Chapter 28

It was something none of them had ever heard before. At least not in the context of true pain.

Their mother cried out.

Gwenvael spun around to look at her, along with everyone else in the room, as Rhiannon sat forward, her hand over her chest.

“Oh, gods. She’s dead, Fearghus.” She looked at her eldest son. “He took her from me. He ripped the life right from her body.”

They were all moving for the door when she said, “No.” She shook her head, still trying to get her breath back. “She’s gone.”

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Fearghus snapped.

“I mean she’s gone. The babes are gone. They’re gone. He took them.”

“No.” Morfyd stepped forward, her eyes unfocused as she saw what her mother saw. “He didn’t take them. He sent the babes away.”

“Where?” Gwenvael asked. “Where did he take them?”

Rhiannon closed her eyes, going inside herself for more information.

Bercelak pushed past his children and siblings and crouched in front of his mate. “What is it, Rhiannon?”

“He wanted me to see. To see what he did because seeing through her pain makes it harder—” She gripped Bercelak’s hand, her face contorting as she tried to see past a god’s tricks to the truth.

Rhiannon snatched her hand away from Bercelak and abruptly stood, her face red with rage as she snarled, “That bastard.”

Fearghus moved toward his mother. “What is it? What has he done?”

“He sent them to the Minotaurs.”

The room fell silent, everyone standing for a moment, brutally stunned. Then Fearghus was stalking across the room and tearing the door open. Without even realizing it, he ripped it off its hinges, Briec and Gwenvael forced to step aside as it flew by.

They all stormed into the Great Hall, Talaith and Izzy waiting for them all.

The Nolwenn witch had felt it, too. She knew what had happened to her friend and the twins.

“They’re not alone,” Rhiannon called after them, and as one they all turned to face her.

“Who’s with her?” Fearghus demanded.

When his mother’s eyes rested on him, Gwenvael felt the breath stop in his lungs. “Dagmar?”

His brother asked him something, but he couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything above the roar in his ears as Gwenvael realized what had happened to Dagmar—and what would happen to Dagmar if they didn’t get to her and the babes in time.