About a Dragon

by G. A. Aiken

  Éibhear silently watched Talaith’s daughter almost slice her face open with the sword she’d been playing with for the last half hour. He’d been flying when he caught her scent far from the castle. Worried someone had taken her, he tracked her to this rather open glen where the light from the full moon gave her enough illumination to play warrior.

  His only plan had been to sit back and watch her, then make sure she got back to the castle safely. But at this rate, she’d cut her own throat. Who gave her that thing anyway? Then it suddenly occurred to him it was the sword he’d been looking for. “Dirty, thieving, little cow,” he snarled.

  When she got the blade stuck in a tree trunk, he moved forward silently. He waited until his snout was barely inches from her neck, before he shouted, “And what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Screeching, the young girl spun around and punched Éibhear dead in the snout. It didn’t hurt as much as it startled him, but he still moved back from her. But as soon as she saw who he was, she immediately calmed down.

  “Oh,” she said with obvious lack of interest, “it’s you.”

  “Yes. Me.”

  “I thought it was someone scary.” And with that, she went back to trying to get the sword out of the tree trunk.

  Spoiled little heifer.

  “Are you going to stand there and stare at me or are you going to help me?” At this point, she had both her feet planted on the tree while desperately pulling on the sword’s hilt.

  Éibhear had to admit, she must have some strength if she got it stuck in that far.

  “I’d prefer you tell me what you’re doing out here…alone?”

  “Have we lost track of my mother, that you feel the need to fill in for her?”

  Why you little…

  “Look, I care about Talaith. And for some unknown reason she’d actually care if something happened to you. So I’m here to make sure you’re safe.”

  “Care about her do you? Well I hate to dash any of your hopes, but Briec got to her first. And I like him. He’s perfect for her. You, however, are not.”

  Éibhear took a deep breath to calm his growing rage, when the blade suddenly dislodged, flew from her hands and skittered past him. Another inch it would have embedded itself in his forehead.

  “That is it!” he roared, uncaring if he woke up all of Dark Plains. “I’m taking you back right now!”

  When the blade dislodged from the tree, she’d lost her footing and landed flat on her back. Now she stared up at him with wide light-brown eyes.

  “By the gods, are you all right?” She scrambled to her feet. “Did that cut you?”

  He heard the concern in her voice, but chose to ignore it. “Move.”

  “All right. No need to yell at me. I didn’t throw that at you on purpose.”

  She easily picked up the sword he’d seen grown men struggle with and headed back toward the castle.

  “And when we get back, you’ll put my sword right back where you got it.”

  “Oh, don’t get all moral on me. I was only borrowing it.”

  “Don’t even try to explain it. There is no ‘borrowing’ where dragons are concerned.”

  “Fine. You know, dragon, this would go much faster if you flew me there.”

  True, the trek back to the castle was not a short one, but there was no way he was placing this spoiled brat on his back.

  “Forget it and keep walking.”

  “Fine.”

  She picked up her step and Éibhear glanced up to judge how far the castle actually was from them and how much longer he’d have to endure her presence. And that’s when he saw it. The moon hovered over the castle, orange and yellow light bathing the white stone so that appeared as if flame surrounded the building. He didn’t need anyone to tell him something was very wrong with what he was seeing. Magick of some kind, yet he didn’t feel any sense of pain or suffering. Actually, when he allowed his senses to expand out, he felt something else all together. Something that made his loins tighten.

  He looked down at the young girl he’d gamble his treasure was still a virgin. He rolled his eyes. He couldn’t let her go back there. At least not tonight.

  “Wait.” He slammed his tail on the ground in front of her. “Perhaps I’m being—”

  “Oooh. Can I play with your tail again?”

  She reached for it and Éibhear yanked it back. “No!”

  “Well, you don’t have to yell at me.”

  All he wanted to do was throw this girl back at her mother and fly away, hopefully never to see her again. But that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. So, he steeled his already taut nerves and stared down at her.

  “No. You cannot play with my tail. But if you really want to go flying—”

  Before he even finished the words, she squealed, grabbed hold of his mane and scrambled up onto his back.

  Stunned, he sat there for a moment. He’d never known a human so immediately comfortable with who and what he was. Even Annwyl took a little time to get completely comfortable with Fearghus.

  “Go, go, go! I want to fly!”

  “Calm down!” This is going to be a long night.

  He turned and walked off the other way.

  “Aren’t we going to the castle?”

  “That’ll be too short a trip. I thought I’d take you out for a bit.” At least until that moon goes back to wherever it came from. “But no screaming or anything. People are trying to sleep.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Éibhear grunted, pleased he’d finally gotten her to calm down at least a little.

  “You have gorgeous hair, you know. I love the color.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can I put warrior braids in it?”

  “No you can not!”

  “I was only asking.”

  Then he heard the little brat giggle and as he took off, heading away from Garbhán Isle and that moon, he debated whether to spin over onto his back and let her take her chances. But that seemed wrong.

  Damn his morals.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Still waking up, Brastias held Morfyd tight against him. Her body warm, she smelled wonderful. He kissed her forehead, her cheek. She moaned and snuggled closer to him, her lips brushing his jaw.

  With a smile, he kissed her. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, tugging him closer. One of her long legs wrapped around his waist as he gently moved her to her back, his tongue lazily exploring the wet warmth of her mouth.

  Sighing, her hands buried in his short hair, Morfyd teasingly sucked on his tongue, playfully torturing him with a mere taste of what she could do to his cock.

  Pulling back slightly, he licked her lips. He could spend hours merely kissing this female. Although he was sure he couldn’t last hours. He pushed his erection against her mound and she groaned…then she froze. He felt the change in her down to his toes. Forcing himself fully awake, Brastias leaned back and stared down into Morfyd’s beautiful blue eyes. And that’s when he saw pure panic.

  “Morfyd?”

  “Oh, gods!” She pushed him off her with one good shove, and scrambled out from under him. Somewhere during the night, the majority of her clothes went missing. She grabbed up her robe and satchel.

  “I…uh…” She looked at him one more time. “Well…see ya.” she screamed, her face flush with embarrassment and horror. Then she ran. He didn’t know the dragon could move that fast as human.

  Brastias dropped back onto the hard, unforgiving ground and stared up at the two suns.

  Stared and wondered when last he may have seen his leggings.

  It was late morning when Talaith finally opened her eyes. The insistent knock at the door forcing her awake.

  “Hold,” she squeaked.

  She looked at Briec. On his stomach, his face turned away from her, Briec’s arm still held her captive at his side. She reached over and poked him with a finger. He didn’t even move. Not surprising. Not after last night.

  She pushed his arm off an
d slowly swung her legs off the bed. She winced and shuddered from the pain. Her entire body sore and well-used, sticky from sweat and other fluids, she wasn’t sure she could actually make it to the door. After a few moments of sitting, she grabbed one of the furs from the bed and wrapped it around her. Shuffling slowly she made her way over to the door, unlocked it and let the servants in.

  Like every morning since she’d been at Garbhán Isle, they brought hot water for her bath. She waited while they filled the tub and then she dismissed them.

  Talaith closed the door and made her way to the tub. Dropping the fur at her feet, she stepped into it and eased herself into the water, her body screaming in protest the entire time. Once she was in, she dunked her head under the water and proceeded to scrub herself clean.

  Her exhaustion bone deep, every muscle sore. Her lips, nipple, sex sensitive to the touch. She had no idea what happened last night, but she’d be feeling its effects for days.

  Over and over again, Briec took her. He was relentless and she was demanding. Sometimes he’d take her four or five times in a row. As soon as he’d climax, he’d flip her over and, still erect, start again.

  She wished she could say the whole thing was some kind of horrible experience, but she’d be lying. Except for the aftermath to her body and the accidental burning of her back during the night, she enjoyed every second, and quickly lost count of her climaxes. The few times he did stop, the break wouldn’t last long. And just as she began to slip into a deep sleep, he’d start kissing her again, fucking her again. Making her beg for everything he had to give.

  Finally, when the first rays of the two suns peeked out, he’d climaxed one last time before passing out on top of her. Thankfully she had enough energy left to heave herself out from under him before dropping off to sleep as well, or he would have awoken to a crushed Talaith.

  After soaking until the water turned cold, Talaith dropped herself from the tub and dried off. She bit her lip to keep her moans and groans in as her muscles screamed at all her movement. She knew enough of healing to know if she went back to bed, as much as she may want to, her body would cramp up and she would be unable to walk or do much of anything for days.

  Somehow she managed to pull on a soft black dress, since the thought of anything touching her sex, even leggings, almost sent her into a crying tantrum. She brushed her hair off her face, and headed toward the Great Hall. She got halfway down the stairs when she stopped and sat down heavily, unable to go a step farther.

  Talaith had no idea how long she was sitting there like that when Morfyd found her.

  “Gods, sister. Are you all right?”

  She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer…her entire body hurt more than she could say.

  “No.” Talaith shook her head as tears streamed down her face.

  Morfyd crouched beside her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “My entire body hurts. I can’t walk.”

  “You mean sore? Or something else?”

  “Sore.” So very, very sore.

  “All right. I’ve got something for that. Come, sister.” The witch slipped an arm around her waist and lifted her up. Being that she was actually a dragon, Talaith didn’t worry she might be too heavy for Morfyd. The female basically carried her to the Great Hall.

  It surprised her to find it deserted. Usually, this time of morning, the Great Hall fairly buzzed with activity. But today it was merely the two of them.

  “Where is everyone?”

  Morfyd sat her in a chair at the dining table.

  “Recovering, I suspect.”

  “Something happened last night. What?”

  “I don’t know. I passed out by the lake last night. I woke up with…um…I woke up and had no idea where I was or how I got there. Although I think I’m glad I left. I’d hate to think what would have happened if I were actually here.”

  Morfyd dug into her satchel and pulled out several jars of herbs. She grabbed a bottle of wine, poured some into a chalice and then mixed in some herbs.

  “Here. Drink this. Straight down.”

  With shaky hands, Talaith took the chalice from Morfyd and did as she ordered.

  “Good.” Morfyd took the now-empty chalice from her. “Give it a few minutes and you’ll be amazed how well it works.”

  “What about everyone else here?”

  “Those who lived away from the castle are fine, although from what I can tell they slept quite deeply. The few servants who’ve been bustling around this morning are all those who lived with their families off the castle grounds.”

  “And the ones who live here?”

  Morfyd winced. “Aren’t much better than you, I’m afraid. But I’ve already made them a batch of what I just gave you.”

  As Morfyd said the words, a soft warmth spread throughout Talaith’s body, and the brutally painful soreness seemed to wash away like so much sand during a high tide.

  Morfyd studied her closely. “Feel better?”

  “Aye.” Talaith smiled in relief. “Aye, I do. Gods, thank you, Morfyd.”

  “You’ll have to drink some more tonight before you go to bed. But by tomorrow you should be completely fine.”

  Talaith wanted to hug the woman, but decided against it. Instead, she stood and took several tentative steps. Her smile turned to a grin. Even the soreness between her legs had melted away.

  “I’m getting the ingredients to that miracle concoction, Morfyd.”

  Morfyd laughed as rose to her feet, watching Talaith walk around in front of her. “Of course. With your skills I have no fears you’ll make it wrong.”

  “Mmmhm. It even helped with this burn.” She very lightly reached back and brushed her fingertips along the burn marks peeking out from under her dress.

  “I have to admit…that did surprise me.”

  “Why? Have you never accidentally burned one of your lovers during a lusty bedding?” she joked.

  Morfyd took the chalice back from Talaith. “Accidentally?”

  “Aye. Do you have something for burns? I’d prefer not to have to live with the scars if I don’t have to.”

  Coughing out an uncomfortable, awkward laugh, Morfyd pulled the shoulder of Talaith’s dress down a bit. “Uh…Talaith. This was no accident.”

  “What do you mean?” That didn’t make sense. Briec had never hurt her, intentionally or otherwise. Even last night, when his lust got the best of him, he still made her feel cherished, cared for, and so very loved.

  “I mean Briec marked you last night. He Claimed you as his own.”

  He’d Claimed her. Briec’s desperately spoken words floated back to her, “Tonight I Claim you. Tonight I make you mine.”

  “Didn’t he tell you?”

  “Does it look like he told me?” Talaith screamed in fury, the full weight of what he’d done slamming down on her. “That arrogant bastard. I’ll kill him.”

  “Talaith, I don’t think it was anything he could control.”

  She stalked up to Morfyd, ignoring the fact the female towered over her. “Are you saying if the kitchen maids were with him last night, he would have done the same? Are you telling me this is meaningless?”

  “No. That’s not what I mean at all. What I think is that Claiming you was something he’d already planned. Knowing Briec he’d planned to wait. To discuss it with you first. At the very least tell you he was going to do it.”

  “Really? Is that what you think, sister? How fascinating your load of centaur shit is.”

  “Perhaps you should calm down.”

  “Perhaps you should fuck off!”

  Talaith stalked over to the open archway of the Great Hall and stared out over the courtyard. Trying to get control of her enormous panic. He’d Claimed her. Gods, what did that mean? Exactly what would he expect of her? She wouldn’t lie to herself, if Briec had asked her, she would have said “yes” and stayed with him forever. Not hard, because she loved him. But, more importantly, it would have been her choice. That’s all she w
anted these days. To have a choice. But he’d taken that from her.

  Trying desperately not to cry, she watched the soldiers prepare for the presence of Lord Hamish and his army in a few weeks time.

  Talaith stared and debated what she would do. And that’s when they came around the corner. Éibhear in chainmail shirt and leggings and Iseabail in the leather leggings and the soft oversized cotton shirt she’d been wearing the night before.

  Iseabail, talking non-stop as always, followed behind Éibhear like a puppy. They reached the steps of the Great Hall entrance and Éibhear stopped, turning around to grab Izzy by her shirt and pulling her onto her tiptoes.

  “Please. For the love of all that’s holy, woman—stop talking!”

  “Well you don’t have to yell at me. I was merely saying…”

  Éibhear, growling like an enormous bear in the woods, released her daughter and stalked up the stairs. Izzy still behind him. Still talking.

  As Éibhear walked past her, muttering, “Good day, Talaith,” she briefly wondered when everything turned a bright, blood red.

  Thoroughly branded, thoroughly fucked, and thoroughly pissed off, Talaith let the full range of her anger loose…and she let it loose on Éibhear.

  Talaith grabbed Éibhear by the front of his chainmail shirt and, using the strength of her ancestors, swung him around and slammed him against the wall.

  One hand shoved against his throat, she pinned him to the spot, while retrieving her blade with the other and placing the point of it against his jugular.

  “What did you do?” she shouted in his face.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “To Izzy! What did you do to Izzy?”

  “Nothing.” Éibhear stared at Talaith, his silver eyes desperate. “I swear!”

  “Mother, let him go!” She could hear her daughter pleading with her, but barely. The rushing in her ears drowned out almost all other sounds.

  This…this was the final straw. If these dragons thought they’d get her daughter too—not in her lifetime.

  “Tell me what you did!”

  “He only took me flying last night,” Iseabail fairly screamed.

  Talaith glared at Éibhear. “Is that what you told her it was called?” she yelled in his face.