by G. A. Aiken
She finally found a way to sit up and, for a brief moment, he expected her to pitch forward again, but she managed to keep her seat. He watched her struggle with the ribbon tying her bodice together, which she managed to get completely knotted up.
Sighing, he kneeled in front of her and pushed her hands away. “At this rate, you’ll be sober before you get your dress off.”
He worked at untying the knots she created, but he could feel her eyes on him. Her words still startled him, though. “I like you on your knees, dragon.”
Briec dug in and decided not to look at her, instead concentrating on the knots before him.
“I don’t think you’re necessarily better looking on your knees,” she continued, “but I find you almost charming there.”
“Talaith, I need you to stop talking now.”
“Why? Am I shocking you?”
No. She wasn’t shocking him. But she was making him hard. From this position, he could do all sorts of things to her and with her. But he wasn’t about to take advantage of her while she was flying high on his father’s homemade liquor. He liked his women sober and willing. Not passing out in the middle of it or, even worse, throwing up on him. Besides, hadn’t she done enough of that already?
“Don’t you want to fuck me, dragon?”
He dropped his head on her still-clothed chest. “Where did a nice witch like you learn words like that?”
“Did you forget? Peasant village. I know all sorts of words after living with those people. Want me to list them?”
“No!” He cleared his throat. “No,” he said more calmly. “Just stay quiet…or pass out. Anything that will stop you from talking.”
She stopped speaking.
Then she started again. “Does your dragon cock have scales?”
“That’s it.” He took firm hold of her bodice and ripped it in half. He pulled the dress down, practically flipping her off the bed in his desperation to get it off her. Once done, he tossed the ruined dress into the pitfire.
“Look!” She stood on the bed, arms over her head. “I’m naked!”
He grabbed Talaith to him—ignoring how good her warm flesh felt against his—and lifted her up off her feet with one arm. With the other, he dragged the fur covers back and dropped her onto the bed. He covered up her luscious body as quickly as he could manage.
“Go to sleep, woman.”
He turned and walked several steps away. Stopped. Turned. And walked returned to her. She looked up at him and smiled.
“Big bastard,” she giggled.
“Annoying harpie,” he growled back. Then he leaned down and kissed her mouth hard. She moaned and her hands dug into his hair, clinging to him.
Unfortunately, he had to stop. He had to. Or he’d be inside her in seconds.
“I want you sleeping in the next two minutes,” he ordered.
“Or what?”
He bared fangs, two long ones in the front. He hated doing it, mostly because they tore up his lip due to their size. But the crazy witch made him absolutely insane.
She shrunk away from him. “All right. All right. No need to get mean.”
Moving toward the exit as fast as the erection pushing against his breeches would allow, he said, “Sadly, little witch, you seem to understand nothing else.”
But by then, he could already hear her light snoring.
Chapter Eight
For three straight days, the storms raged. Ice-cold rain beating down, brutal winds blowing, plus powerful lightning ensured Talaith wouldn’t leave the dragon’s cave.
And after her first thwarted escape and drunken escapade—did I really stand on the bed and say “I’m naked”?—Briec wouldn’t let her out of his sight. So for three solid days she’d been stuck with him and his kin. Although, she did have to admit it had definitely been an interesting three days trapped in a cave with three related dragons who seemed hell-bent on torturing each other.
She thought for sure Gwenvael would never forgive her for what she did to him. But he healed fast enough and didn’t seem to care, especially when irritating the living hell out of his brother clearly took precedence.
As soon as he realized merely being close to Talaith annoyed Briec, the gold dragon went out of his way to not only forgive Talaith, but to show her as much affection as he could manage.
It seemed Gwenvael enjoyed lounging around or on her. Of course, all this closeness only seemed to happen when Briec was in the vicinity. Gwenvael would stretch out beside her, sometimes human and sometimes dragon. As human, Gwenvael would lay his handsome head in her lap, ignoring the fact she would be in the middle of reading something. As dragon, he’d lay his snout. Either way, when Briec found him it always turned ugly. She’d gotten to the point that as long as stones didn’t drop from the ceiling onto her head, she didn’t worry.
As for Éibhear, he couldn’t seem to do enough for her. He made sure she ate well, had warm clothes, clean bedding, and books to read. He had to be the kindest being she’d ever known. Plus, very funny and very smart. She’d begun to call him Éibhear the Diplomat. He was the only one who could calm his brothers when they went into one of their arguments. He seemed to like everything and everyone peaceful.
Still, he did have his occasional mood changes, but he never directed those her way. His brothers received the brunt and they didn’t seem to notice. Gwenvael finally told her that, among his kind, Éibhear was young. “Not yet a hundred,” Gwenvael would tease, knowing to a human—even a Nolwenn witch with their long lives—that sounded strange. In a few more years Éibhear would finally grow into his true dragon self. She already mourned the loss of the sweet, endearing bear of a dragon who loved to make her laugh.
And then there was Briec.
After her little escape attempt and their kiss, he circled around her like a bird of prey. If his brothers got too close, he was there to move them. If she got lost in the enormous caverns and tunnels of Gwenvael’s home—which, unfortunately, happened more than once—he’d find her and lead her back.
When he wasn’t doing all that, he was looking for an argument. He absolutely loved irritating the hell out of her. He made sure to do it often, it seemed. Of course it didn’t help that when he would start the fights, not only would she jump in with much enthusiasm, but the arguments invariably made her want him. Desperately. They both knew it, too. The way he’d stare at her. The way his nostrils would flare seconds before he’d say something else to aggravate her more, proved to her he knew exactly what he was doing.
Yet, she knew deep in her soul, all this did was kill time. Time until he could get her truly alone. Away from his meddling brothers. Talaith, however, lived in fear of that day. She didn’t fear Briec. Not anymore. But she did fear her feelings for him. She’d been so young when she’d met her first and, up to this point, only love. A young, tall warrior with light brown eyes who treated her like a princess. They’d given each other everything, to her mother’s great annoyance. But he’d died in battle and that’s when her entire world changed.
But he’d been a mere boy. Barely ten and eight. Briec, however, was in no way young or inexperienced. Plus the fact he wasn’t human still bothered her…a lot. Many would consider a mating between the two an abomination. Actually, Talaith would have felt that way, too—before she met Briec.
Now she dreamed every night about the big bastard. And in every dream they argued. Which normally wouldn’t worry her. What worried her was waking up a sweating mess with her sex wet and her hand between her legs. Even in the darkness of the cave, she knew Briec watched her. He watched her moan and writhe on the bed and not once did he touch her. Although she sensed he wanted to…very much. She had to admit, she admired his strength of will. Most men she’d known wouldn’t wait for her. Ones not remotely as powerful as Briec would have taken what they wanted from her whether she agreed or not.
He didn’t. Which just made her like him more. And she hated him for it.
Finally, though, the rains and lightnin
g stopped. At least temporarily since the clouds still hovered near. After much begging—and arguing—Briec finally agreed to take her down to the closest village. But she had to promise she wouldn’t do anything “annoyingly stupid” like yell for help. She grudgingly promised, because Arzhela still had not called to her. Once that call came, she would do what she had to, even break her promise to the dragon.
The town near Gwenvael’s cave—where every local woman seemed to know or know of the three brothers—boasted a sizable market, and there were many items she would have liked to purchase if she had any coin. But she wouldn’t ask the dragon for any money. Not in this lifetime.
Gwenvael grabbed her hand and dragged her over to one of the dressmaker shops. “We should get you something pretty.”
“We? You actually plan to spend money on me?”
“No. That’s my dear brother’s job. But I can dress you as the goddess you are. Especially because I have much better taste than him.”
Talaith laughed while he looked over the already made gowns and the available materials. Gwenvael had grown on her. True, she had no doubt he’d fairly leap between her legs if she even gave him the merest hint she might welcome him. But they both knew he’d only do it to annoy Briec.
Which was why she wasn’t surprised when Briec suddenly appeared behind her, glaring at Gwenvael.
“What are you doing?”
“Picking out a dress for you to buy for your lady.”
His lady?
“I am not his lady.”
“She’s not my lady.”
Talaith glared at Briec over her shoulder. “What do you mean I’m not your lady?”
“You just said you’re not my lady.”
She turned to face him. “I can say what I want. You, however, need to keep your mouth shut.”
“You know as I begin to forget your peasant upbringing, you seem to delight in reminding me.”
“As you pointed out before, my upbringing was not that of a peasant. I am the daughter of a merchant.”
“A sea merchant?”
Her eyes narrowed. Sea merchants held extremely bad reputations throughout Dark Plains and Alsandair. Rumors abounded that most of them were more pirates than merchants, their boats coming down from the Northland Sea and raiding seaside towns. “No, you arrogant—” She stopped speaking and looked down at the big hands holding a lovely dress up in front of her. Of course, leave it to Gwenvael to hold her dress up by taking a firm grasp of her breasts.
Before she could tell him to get his bloody hands off, Briec beat her to it. “Remove your hands, brother.”
Gwenvael’s large, strong body pressed against her back while his golden head leaned over her shoulder and stared down, she assumed, at the dress. “I wanted to see how this looked on her before you buy it.”
“Remove your hands…or lose your hands.”
Keeping his head firmly against her shoulder, Gwenvael lifted only those big gold eyes of his. “Now, now, brother. Temper, temper.”
“Oh!” Talaith slammed her foot down into Gwenvael’s instep.
“Ack!”
She pulled away from Gwenvael and quickly maneuvered around Briec before he could grab hold of her either, so her back faced the shop exit. “Both of you cut it out. I will not be tugged between you two like a…a…”
“Fine sweetmeat?”
“Delicious morsel?”
“Tasty tidbit?”
“Scrumptious delicacy?”
“Decadent delight?”
She held her hands up. “Stop. Stop.”
“Good gods, brother.” Gwenvael rested his hand on Briec’s shoulder. “Is that a smile your lady wears?”
“I think so. But I’m not all that sure. I’ve seen so few on her face.”
“It’s beautiful, though.”
“Aye,” Briec answered, his eyes devouring her on the spot. “That it is.”
She knew this was moments from getting horribly awkward. So she did the only thing she could think of. “Both of you are absolutely impossible. I’m leaving.”
She rushed out of the shop only to crash into Éibhear.
“There you are, Talaith. Come. I’ve found a bookseller.”
She barely managed a light squeal before the young dragon had her by the hand, and dragged her off across the square.
Eavan walked up to his commander. “You’re not going to believe who I saw being dragged across the town square.”
His commander turned one cold blue eye his way, the other lost in battle long ago, but said nothing. He was a man of few words.
“Our prize.”
“The dragon?”
“Nowhere to be seen. She has aligned herself with a knight. Perhaps more. But no one that’s a real threat to us.”
His commander grinned. “Seems riches and glory will be ours soon, my friend.”
Eavan returned his commander’s smile. Riches and glory. What he’d always wanted.
Briec snatched the dress from Gwenvael’s hands. “Stay away from her, Gwenvael. Especially her breasts.”
“But they’re magnificent, brother.”
Gwenvael grinned and Briec debated ripping the bastard’s head off. Of course it could make for tense dinner conversation with his mother, though.
What annoyed him more than he wanted to admit was the fact Gwenvael had damn near more physical contact with that impossible female than he did.
Gwenvael shook his head. “Get out now, brother. Really. Give her gold for her trouble and leave her here.”
“No.” He couldn’t. No matter how much the rational side of him wanted to. She must have trapped him with, he was fairly convinced, a spell of some kind.
“You don’t understand, Briec. You won’t be getting rid of her anytime soon. You keep her now…you’ll keep her forever.”
Briec scoffed, “I have no intention of keeping that human harpy longer than absolutely necessary.”
Catching the eye of a shop girl, Gwenvael proceeded to follow after her but not before throwing over his shoulder, “If you think getting your cock inside that woman will end this—you’re dumber than Fearghus.”
Briec already knew that, too.
“I’m falling!”
“Oh.” Éibhear grabbed back half the books he’d piled in her arms. “Sorry.”
Talaith smiled, and Éibhear couldn’t help but envy his brother’s choice of female. He thought Talaith was amazing. So pretty and sweet, with a wonderful sense of humor. Even drunk she was adorable.
Of course, she was also hiding something. But, as always, Éibhear’s only concern was his family. As long as whatever her secret was didn’t involve his family, he’d leave his brother to it. But if any of his kin were in danger, he’d smite the beauty where she stood.
“It’s all right, Éibhear. But you do know I don’t need all these books.”
“You can never have enough books,” he quoted Annwyl.
“I see.” Talaith gave him that indulgent smile she seemed to hold just for him. He wondered if Briec realized how nurturing she was. She’d make a good mother one day.
The shopkeeper slipped into the back to find a book Éibhear had been searching for, leaving them alone in the small, book-filled shop. “You are going to stay? With Briec.”
She looked startled, then she looked resigned. “No, Éibhear. I will not.”
“Will not or can not?”
“Both.” She fidgeted and he realized how uncomfortable this conversation was making her.
“Besides,” she argued, “your brother only wants me for as long as he wants me. I’m sure he will bore of me soon. Especially, if…” Her voice faded out.
“Especially if he beds you?”
She winced and nodded curtly. “It seems males of any species are no different.”
He might agree with her if this were Gwenvael they spoke of. But Briec didn’t waste his time on…well…anything. He bored easily and had an arrogance rivaled only by their father. If he only wanted to bed a
female, any female, he would have left Talaith outside of her little town when she asked him to rather than spend a moment longer trying to lure her to spread her legs. Briec’s determination to have this woman in his bed and life, however, told Éibhear that bedding Talaith a few times would not get her out of his system.
Still, beautiful as this woman was, she continued to remind Éibhear of a coiled snake ready to strike. As long as you left her alone, she’d leave you alone. But if you got too close…
“I’m starving,” he announced, unwilling to obsess over Talaith and her secrets too much.
She grinned. “When aren’t you starving?”
“I’m still a growing boy, you know. I’m barely even ninety winters old.”
She stared up at him, horrified. “Good gods, Éibhear, do you mean you’ll actually get…bigger?”
She didn’t even have to turn around to know he stood behind her.
“You watch me constantly,” she said over her shoulder as she continued to study the lovely jewelry the vendor sold. Silver remained her favorite because gold never looked very good against her skin color. Although she could never afford either.
“I want to make sure you don’t try to slash any of my other kin.”
“Your brother seems to have forgiven me about that.”
Briec stepped up beside her. “My brother will forgive any female anything as long as he can stare at her breasts while doing it.”
“You’re too hard on him.”
“And you are like every other female that allows him much leeway.”
Frowning, Talaith looked up at him, but he would not face her. Instead he stared down at the jewelry as if considering each piece carefully. “I give your brother no leeway and never will.”
“I didn’t see you moving his hands away while he held that dress against you.”
“First off, you didn’t give me the chance. And second, you sound awfully jealous.”
“Me? Jealous?” Briec finally turned and faced her. “Of him?”
“Don’t yell at me,” she replied calmly. “And yes, you sound very jealous of your brother. Like it’s making you insane with rage.”