What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(70)

“Oh!” Her hand covered her mouth as she realized what she’d done. “Gwenvael!”

Then she was up and running.

“Is there something wrong with you? Beyond that which we already know of?”

Gwenvael looked at his sister, the piece of fresh fruit he’d just taken off her plate still in his hand. “Huh?”

Morfyd sat down at the table where battle plans and decisions regarding Annwyl’s kingdom were made on a daily basis.

“What possessed you to bring her here?”

“I had no choice.”

“What do you mean you had no choice?”

“How was I going to find out why that Lightning wants her here if I didn’t bring her with me? Of course”—he glanced around—“I seemed to have misplaced her. But I’m sure I’ll find her again.”

Morfyd rubbed her eyes and took another breath. “Gwenvael, she is the Only Daughter of The Reinholdt. And the Northland men are intensely, almost rabidly, protective of their daughters. And you just traipse off with one.”

“I didn’t traipse. There was no traipsing. And I don’t know why you’re so angry at—”

“Don’t speak.” She held her hand up, palm facing him. “Just don’t speak. We have to figure out what we’re going to tell Annwyl before she finds out”—the door slammed open behind them, Annwyl glowering at them both—“on her own.”

“You idiot!”

“Annwyl! My heart!”

Annwyl stalked across the room, her belly leading the way. Actually, her rage led the way, her belly right behind it. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Well—”

“Don’t speak!” Morfyd cut in. “Just don’t speak.”

Dagmar charged into the room after Annwyl. She was out of breath and slightly sweaty. Did the woman exercise anything besides her manipulation skills? Weak as a kitten.

“If you could just give me a moment, Your Majesty,” she panted out. “I can explain what brings me here.”

Gwenvael snickered. “She called you ‘Majesty.’ ”

Annwyl hit him on the forehead with the flat of her hand.

“Ow!”

“How do you do that?” Annwyl demanded of Gwenvael. “How do you convince them to take the blame for you?”

“It’s all in the hands,” he countered.

“I assure you I’m not taking the blame for anything, Your Maj—”

“Call me that again, and I’ll tear you open from bowels to nose. It’s Annwyl, you sod.”

Gwenvael saw Dagmar’s eyes narrow, her nostrils flare, and he quickly jumped in before the little barbarian could say something that would forfeit her head. “Tell them how you blackmailed me.”

Dagmar’s back snapped straight, Annwyl’s rudeness immediately forgotten. “What?”

“She’s just using me,” he explained to Annwyl. “Using me to get to you.”

Adjusting her frames, Dagmar said, “It’s time for you to stop talking.”

“I don’t want to.”

“But you will stop talking.”

“We’re on my territory now, Beast. You can’t strut around here and pretend you rule all—”

“Quiet.”

“But—”

She raised her right forefinger.

“She—”

Dagmar raised that damn forefinger higher.

“It’s just—”

Now she brandished both forefingers. “Stop.”

He gave Dagmar his best pout, which she completely ignored, turning her back on him to again face Annwyl. “Think there might be some place private we can talk, my lady?”

Gwenvael’s mouth dropped open. “Did you just dismiss—”

Dagmar held up that damn forefinger again but didn’t even bother to look at him when she did.

Annwyl’s grin was wide and bright. A smile Gwenvael hadn’t seen from her in far too long. “Right this way, Lady Dagmar.”

“Thank you.” Dagmar brusquely snapped her fingers at Gwenvael. “And don’t forget to bring my bags up once I get a room, Defiler.”

Annwyl fairly glowed as she followed Dagmar from the room, her smile growing by the second. Gwenvael faced his sister. “It’s Ruiner, which is a vast difference.”

“Uh …”

“So get it right!” he yelled at the empty doorway. He shook his head, fighting his smile. “Rude cow.”

His sister stared at him so long he began to worry. “What?” He brushed his hands over his face. “Is something marring my beauty? Besides these hideous scars that I received while protecting those I love?”

“You like her.”

“I like everyone. I’m filled with joy and love and—”

“No. Nitwit. You like her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not even the kind of female I’d be attracted to.”

“Because she can construct and verbally repeat full and complete sentences?”

“That’s top of my list.”

Morfyd leaned forward. “Good gods … you haven’t f**ked her. Have you?”