What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(115)

Annwyl pointed her sword at Celyn and Branwen. “Move!” The two youngsters fell over each other trying to get out of the way, until their mother grabbed them by their hair and yanked them back.

“Go,” Annwyl told her horse.

Violence reared up then shot off, tearing through the empty space the young siblings left.

As the horse disappeared over a hill, Gwenvael’s Dragon Kin stood silent, unsure what to do next.

Then Addolgar earnestly asked, “I’m confused. Is she dead or not?”

Chapter 29

After all that, Dagmar had really hoped they were heading back to Garbhán Isle, but no. A nice inn somewhere in one of the villages? No. A pub for a pint … or twelve pints, one after the other until she could no longer see straight with or without her spectacles? No.

Instead of any of those lovely ideas, the Queen of Dark Plains took her to a cave. A dark, dank cave. She couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face or the babes in her arms, but of course this place must be safer than the tunnel they’d just escaped from.

She hoped so, anyway.

Thankfully the horse seemed to know where he was going, happily trotting along through the winding black tunnels. Eventually he stopped and Annwyl jumped off. Dagmar could hear the queen moving around and some cursing when she walked into things. But then flint struck rock and a torch was lit. Annwyl walked around the cavern, lighting more torches attached to the walls, and as she did, Dagmar could now see she was not in some random cave Annwyl had stumbled upon. They were in a furnished cave. A dragon’s cave. She let out a sigh of relief and the horse lowered himself to the ground, allowing Dagmar to slip off. Not easy when she was desperately trying not to drop the sobbing babes in her arms.

“Why are they crying?”

The naked queen stood before her, blood covering most of her, and there seemed to be a fresh wound or two, but this … this was the queen Dagmar had always heard of. Tall, powerfully built. Muscles any male warrior would envy and generous br**sts any woman would love to have been gifted with. The only sign that showed Annwyl had once been with child was the horizontal scar across her lower abdomen. But it looked as if it had been there for years.

It seemed Annwyl had a new patron goddess who took much better care of her subjects than Rhydderch Hael, bringing Annwyl back to the way she was before the babes were born—at least physically.

Emotionally, the woman was a mess.

“They’re crying because they’re frightened,” Dagmar explained, hoping the queen took her babes soon. Her arms were growing tired, their abnormally large size turning them into quite the burdens.

Annwyl looked at the Minotaur sword in her hands, then set it down. After that she walked around the large cavern, rubbing her hands together. Dagmar noticed a table and chairs, so she sat down.

The queen turned and faced her again. “I put the sword down, why are they still crying?”

“They’re probably hungry.”

“Then feed them.”

Uh-oh.

“They’re not mine to feed.”

“Who do they belong to?”

This is just bloody wonderful!

Dagmar cleared her throat, and spoke carefully. “They’re yours.”

“I don’t have children.”

Dagmar was so tired, the patience she prided herself on quickly deserting her. “What do you remember?”

The queen thought for a moment, pointed at the horse. “I remember him.”

“Do you remember his name?”

Annwyl frowned. “Black … ie?”

Dagmar exhaled. “Do you remember your name?”

She chewed the inside of her mouth, stared up at the ceiling. After several minutes, the queen asked, “Do I need to?”

“Reason preserve me,” Dagmar sighed. The babes cried louder and she looked down at them. “You need to settle down.”

And when they did, she found herself more disturbed than she’d been by their crazed mother.

“See?” Annwyl said, smiling with relief. “They are yours.”

“No, my lady, they are most definitely—”

“They couldn’t be mine,” she cut in quickly. “I’d make a horrible mother. Five minutes with me and they’re already covered in blood.”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll be back.” Abruptly, the queen walked away down a dark tunnel Dagmar had no intention of following her into.

Gwenvael turned to his mother. “So she’s gone ’round the bend then?”

“Well, she’s clearly not sane.”

“I’m going after her,” Fearghus said.

Rhiannon grabbed her eldest son by the hair.

“Mother!”

“For once, don’t be a prat, Fearghus. She doesn’t even recognize you. Go near her now and she’ll kill you.”

“If that’s true, then it’s a good thing she’s alone with the children,” Briec stated dryly.

“And she has Dagmar.” When they all looked at him, Gwenvael added, “She matters, too.”

“They’ll be fine,” Izzy said, positive as always. “Annwyl just needs a little time to get back to her old self.”

Éibhear snorted. “And aren’t you the one who said we should trust Rhydderch Hael and he’d never hurt her?”