by G. A. Aiken
“Now what?” he asked her as she hung there, frighteningly far up from the lake.
“Now? I let go.” And she did. He watched her crash back into the water, disappearing into the dark blue recesses of the lake. But, within a few seconds, she fought her way back to the surface.
“That,” her wet face flush with excitement, “was bloody brilliant!”
Fearghus lowered his head so they met eye to eye. “Have you always been so . . . different?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably.” She kissed him sweetly on the snout and swam away.
His claw touched the spot where she’d kissed him. She had such soft lips. He growled low as he watched her naked body swim across the lake and wondered what it would feel like to bury himself inside her, to feel her climax, to feel her soft mouth on his. . . .
“Sorry, Fearghus, am I interrupting anything?”
He gritted his teeth at the sound of his sister’s voice and wondered how long she’d been standing there. Knowing his sister, he bet it was quite a while.
Fearghus slammed his tail down and she jumped out of the way just in time. “No,” he innocently replied. “You’re not interrupting anything.”
His sister glared at him and he feared she might shift right then so she could ensure her blast held enough strength to knock him across the cave floor. He knew he heard “bastard” muttered under her breath.
“I have to go back to the village for a few hours. But tell Annwyl there’s food for her.” She turned to walk back the way she came.
“As you wish.” He lazily swished his tail and heard her curse as he swiped her feet, causing her to trip and stumble out of the cavern. “Sorry,” he called after her.
“Was that Morfyd?”
He found Annwyl stepping out of the water. Her brown hair reached down to her knees, covering her long, strong body and, thankfully, those breasts.
“There’s food.”
“Good. I’m starving.” She reached down and grabbed her clothes and sword.
“Annwyl . . .”
“I know. I know. He serves a purpose and I should just give him a chance. Right?”
“Actually, I was going to say you should put your clothes on, there’s a chill in here.”
“Oh.”
“But you should also give him a chance.”
She squinted up at him. “Fine, dragon.” She grinned. “Anything for you.”
And Fearghus’s heart missed several beats before it began moving again.
“But he best not piss me off again.”
Fearghus cringed. He could practically guarantee he couldn’t stop himself from doing that.
Chapter 8
“Here.”
Annwyl found the knight holding a sword out to her. “What’s wrong with my blade?”
“Nothing. I want you to start using both.”
Annwyl took the sword from his hand. It bore beautiful workmanship. A noble’s blade. A little heavy for her, but a weight she would be able to get used to. And she bet it could cut through anything. She wondered where he got it from. What noble died at his hand? She shrugged. She never liked nobles much, so she really didn’t care.
“How does it feel?”
“Good.”
“Want some time to get used to it?”
She didn’t answer. Instead she swung at his head with her new blade. He ducked and she blocked his retaliatory blow with her other sword. He smiled at her sudden attack and she felt pride. It took much to impress this man.
As the morning progressed into afternoon, the contact of their blades and the grunts of exertion the only sound in the glen.
* * *
Morfyd pulled away from the flames and growled. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t see Lorcan. She couldn’t see into his world. She recently heard he had joined forces with a powerful wizard whose name no one ever seemed to remember.
Powerful indeed. There were very few humans who could block her. She’d have to warn Fearghus. Let him know that the girl may have more to worry about than that demon brother of hers.
Fearghus. What exactly was going on with him and that girl? Morfyd wasn’t blind. She watched him watch her. Clearly he’d become enamored of the female. But she sensed something else going on. As Annwyl became stronger, Morfyd began to spend most of her time in the local village. A recent bout of fever required her skills. But she sensed that neither Annwyl nor Fearghus spent their days in the lair. And if they weren’t in the lair, where the hell were they?
Morfyd knew her curiosity would soon get the better of her. But something was going on, and she planned to find out exactly what.
Annwyl watched the shadows move through the glen. She knew the hour grew late. And her body tensed in anticipation. She saw it now as a kind of ritual. They would meet and train for hours. Break to eat in silence. Train for several more hours. And at the end of it, something would happen. Something that usually caused increased wetness between her thighs.
Their blades clashed one more time.
“Hold,” he barked. She smiled. The stronger she grew, the more she seemed to be wearing him out. She had no doubt he could continue for a few more hours, but she liked that her skills had improved since they’d first started.
He sheathed his sword and turned from her. She crouched down and picked up her shirt, pulling the soft, plain cotton material over her head. She sheathed both her weapons and looked up to find boots standing in front of her. She fought to control her breathing as she slowly looked up at him.
He stared down at her, his face inscrutable and half covered by his black hair. He almost looked angry at her, his silence driving her to distraction. “Is there a problem?” she snapped.
A low growl erupted from the back of his throat as he reached down and took hold of her shirt, pulling her to her feet. Then his mouth latched onto hers. Annwyl didn’t fight him. She had no desire to. Instead she wrapped one arm around his neck, the other around his waist. He had her by the nape of her neck, his other hand slipping under her shirt. His rough fingers moved across the sweat-covered flesh of her back while his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was so desperate, so passionate, she thought for sure he would take her right at that moment.
Instead, he let her go as abruptly as he’d grabbed her. And she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her throat when he broke off contact. He stared at her for a moment longer, than he stormed off. Just like that. Leaving nothing but the dull ache between her legs to keep her company.
Morfyd placed food in front of Annwyl and watched the girl ignore it. In fact, she hadn’t spoken since her return. Morfyd glanced over the girl’s body. She wore only her bindings and leggings, and for the first time Morfyd noticed the bruises, bloody nicks, and deep cuts that covered Annwyl’s body.
“Annwyl.” The girl’s green eyes flickered toward Morfyd. “Where did those bruises come from?”
“My training.” She made the statement as if Morfyd were supposed to know what the hell she spoke of.
“Your training?”
“Aye. With the knight.”
Morfyd’s eyes narrowed. “What knight?”
“The one who was here when I was healing. The dragon’s friend.”
Morfyd couldn’t hide her surprise as she took a sudden step back. Her brother with a knight friend? Not in this lifetime. Or any lifetime for that matter. And suddenly his recent desire to traipse into the village as human made sense.
“Ah, yes. His knight friend. And he’s done this to you?”
“You could say that.”
Morfyd nodded. She needed to find out what was going on. Now. The curiosity was killing her!
“Is the dragon here?” Annwyl asked hopefully.
“As a matter of fact, no. He’s not.” The girl went back to staring at the wall. “Eat, Annwyl. I need you to keep your strength up. Understand?”
The girl nodded but made no move to eat and continued to stare at her fascinating wall.
He
looped around the glen, moving past a large boulder, heading for the back way into his den. He’d gone into town, running all the way, to order a few things and hopefully work the girl out of his system. It didn’t work. If he stumbled across her now, he’d have a hard time not taking her up against a tree. So, again, it looked as if his cold lake would be his only respite.
But as he came around the boulder he stopped. Morfyd stood waiting for him. Her eyes narrowed in anger, her arms crossed in front of her chest, one foot tapping sharply against the grass.
She glared at her brother for several moments. “I’m telling!” she barked. Then she was off.
“Morfyd!” He charged after her, snatching her around the waist before she could get away from him. She slapped at his hands. But when that didn’t work she slammed her elbow into his face. He released her and she spun around to face him.
The two siblings stared at each other. “Keep your mouth shut, sister.”
Morfyd hissed just before she latched onto a handful of Fearghus’s hair and pulled.
“You little . . .” He winced in pain and wrapped his arm under his sister’s leg, tossing her on her back. She didn’t let her grip on his hair go though, and instead reached up and punched him in the head. “Ow!” He slapped her hands away. Could this be more ridiculous? They were dragons. The mightiest killers in the known world. What the hell were they doing?
“Hold it! Just hold it!”
Morfyd stopped. “How could you lie to her like that?”
“I’m not lying.”
“Did you go up to her and say ‘It’s me. Fearghus.’”
“Well, not exactly . . .”
“Liar!” She dragged herself off the ground by using her brother’s hair to pull herself to her feet.
“Stop yelling!”
She finally released her hold on Fearghus’s hair. “What are you up to, brother?”
“Getting her ready.”
She raised an eyebrow. “For what exactly?”
Dirty little . . . “That’s not what I meant. Soon she will face her brother, and I’m making sure she’s ready to do that. I won’t watch her die.”
“That’s admirable, brother. But I still don’t know why you haven’t told her the truth. Told her who you are.”
“Our power to shift is one of our most sacred secrets. Do you think I’m going to reveal it to some little girl?” He motioned to his sister’s scarred face. “You even kept our secret while they cut your face.” For a moment, even Fearghus believed that excuse. Morfyd however . . .
“Ha! That’s a weak excuse, brother. If they’d known what I was they would have killed me or at least tried to. And I’d rather not be like old Terlack with only one wing. And I’m sure she wouldn’t harm a hair on that big, thick head of yours. So why don’t you simply admit the truth?”
“And what truth is that?”
“That you’re afraid. Afraid that once she knows who and what you are you don’t stand a chance with her.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve seen how you look at her, brother. I’m not blind.”
“No, but you are insane. I have no interest in some human girl.” If he wasn’t careful, his lies would choke him. He wanted that girl more than life itself. He’d tried to walk away earlier, but he couldn’t. He just had to taste her again. And it took all his strength to stop himself from going further. From ripping off her clothes and burying himself inside of her until morning.
“You’re afraid that if she finds out her knight is really you . . . really a dragon, she won’t give you another look.” His sister stood in front of him now. Her blue eyes boring into his head. “You desire her, brother. And you don’t want anything to jeopardize that.”
Fearghus looked down at his sister. “Are you done?”
“Aye.”
“Then hear me well, sister. I don’t have to explain myself to you.” He leaned into her. “You just keep your mouth shut. I’ll tell her when I’m ready.”
“Fine. But you best hope it’s not too late, brother.” She punched him in the chest—hard—and walked away from him.
Fearghus sighed—he had too many damn females in his life.
Annwyl just started eating when Morfyd stormed back in. She stopped and looked at the witch. Watched her pace in front of her. “Is everything all right, Morfyd?”
Morfyd looked at her and Annwyl put her spoonful of food down. Based on the expression Morfyd wore on that scarred face of hers, Annwyl wanted to make sure she could sprint to the door if necessary.
“What’s going on with you and that knight?”
“What? Uh . . . nothing?”
Morfyd pulled a chair over, sat in it, and stared at Annwyl.
She’d always heard it was a bad idea to lie to a witch. “Well, he’s kissed me a few times.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
“Nothing else has happened between the two of you?”
“No.”
“But you want more, don’t you?”
Annwyl’s face got hot. A blast of the dragon’s flame couldn’t make it any hotter than it was at this very moment. “I . . . uh . . .”
“Annwyl.”
“Yes. All right. I do want more.”
“So why has nothing more happened?”
Annwyl shrugged.
“Are you afraid? I know he’d be your first.”
“No. I’m not afraid.”
“Is it because you might become with child? Because as long as you keep drinking the wine—”
“No. No. That’s not it.” Morfyd waited for her to continue, but she didn’t think she could speak the full truth. Not out loud. “You’ll never understand.”
“Annwyl, I’m a witch. I understand much more than you could ever conceive. Just tell me before you shred my nerves.”
Annwyl looked into those clear blue eyes as she found herself wringing her hands. “I . . .” she swallowed, “I feel guilty.”
Morfyd tilted her head. Her brows pulled together in confusion. “Feel guilty about what?”
Annwyl closed her eyes and rushed forward before she lost all nerve. “I can’t help but feel I’m betraying the dragon.”
Silence followed her admission. She slowly opened her eyes to find Morfyd still staring at her. But her expression of anger and confusion were gone. Instead, she smiled. A smile of such kindness that Annwyl felt her heart warm for the scarred witch.
“I want you to do me a favor, Annwyl.”
“Anything.” And she meant it.
“If you want the knight, take him.”
Annwyl blinked. That wasn’t the response she’d expected. Ever. “What?”
“I’m sorry. Was I not clear? I said if you want him. Take him.”
“But . . .”
“Do not worry about the dragon. Just promise me. If this is what you want, you’ll take him.” She reached out her hand and ran it along Annwyl’s cheek. “Trust me, my friend.”
Annwyl watched Morfyd leave. Her confusion continued to grow by the day. The minute. The second.
She pushed her chair away from the table, slowly standing on wobbly legs. She needed to see the dragon. The one calming thing in her life. He was what he was and she loved him for that.
Fearghus, his head resting in the palm of his claw, sighed. Again.
“How many times must we do this?”
“Until I get it right.”
“Aren’t you tired? You had your training today, didn’t you?”
“Yes. But all we do is sword train. This hones my reflexes. Now do it again.”
Fearghus again sighed and swung his tail. Then he swung it back. He heard her squeal, but unlike before he didn’t hear her lovely bottom hit the ground. “Annwyl?” He turned around but she’d disappeared. His confusion lasted only a moment. He felt the weight on his tail. Slowly, doing his best not to laugh, he brought his tail around. The tip of it caught under her shirt and there she hung. “Are we done now?�
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Her face took on a charming beet-red color. “Yes. We’re done now.”
“You sure? I mean, we can keep going if you like.”
She growled at him. “Enjoying this, are you dragon?”
“As a matter of fact, yes I am.”
“Down.” He carefully lowered her to the ground and watched her struggle to get untangled from his tail. She finally had to yank off her shirt and Fearghus took in a shaky breath. She wore no bindings.
She really needed to stop getting naked around him.
“I should be faster than that.”
“Annwyl, you’re tired. You had a long day. As did I.”
Annwyl raised an eyebrow as she pulled the shirt back on. “And what did you do all day?”
“Many things. Dragons are very busy higher beings.”
Annwyl smirked at him, her arms crossing in front of her voluptuous chest. “Higher beings, eh? It must be nice.”
“You need not feel jealous. You are much better than most humans.”
Annwyl laughed outright. And Fearghus realized how much he loved to see her smile. “Why thank you, oh mighty dragon.” She curtsied low.
“Now. Now, Annwyl. No need to curtsy. A simple nod of your head and absolute worship will be more than enough.”
Annwyl liked Fearghus more and more every day. At some point she began to think of him as her dragon. As if the great beast belonged to her and her alone. Ridiculous, of course. The dragon belonged to no one, but she found the feeling comforting.
She laughed now when she thought of how afraid she had been of him. Afraid of him and all his kind. That feeling seemed like ages ago. Now she found herself almost dreading the day she would have to leave. he and the dragon never spoke of it. They spoke of everything except her leaving.
And Annwyl did love talking to her dragon. She loved to hear the history of his kind. The stories of his family. She loved to hear him. Just the deep, rumbling sound of his dragon voice calmed her. Eased the rage that always pulsated just beneath the surface.
“Absolute worship? That’s a very tall order.”
“You are a very tall girl.”
Annwyl chuckled as she knelt before the dragon and held her hand out to him.
“I thought you knelt before no man.”