by G. A. Aiken
“Only when necessary. Otherwise I try not to let my brilliance overshadow my giving and loving nature.”
“Do you know that you’re not nearly as arrogant as most of my family?”
“Actually . . . I do know.”
She gazed at him. “I’m so sorry I thought . . .”
“The worst of me?” he guessed.
“Something like that.” She rubbed her hands across her face. “It’s been a very long few months. And not very good ones, I’m afraid.”
“Want to tell me about it? I’m a very good listener.”
“Tell you? So you can feel sorry for me, too?”
“Ghleanna, you just had a blade to my throat. There are limits to my mercifulness I’m afraid.”
That made her smile. A little. “I’m afraid there’s not much to tell really. I usually spend my time in battle. Dragons have few wars, but humans fight all the time. When one battle ended, there was always another. Another fight. Another war.” She briefly closed her eyes. “But one time . . . this one time in a very long decade, I . . .” She cracked her neck. “I took a chance.”
“You loved him,” Bram said, so quietly she almost didn’t hear him.
She shook her head. “Gods, no. I didn’t love him. I don’t love him. I’m ashamed to say I was just lonely. And stupid. Very, very stupid.”
“We all make mistakes, Ghleanna. The point is not to dwell on them.”
“Easy enough for you. You probably never make mistakes. When you fart, I bet rainbows shoot out your ass.”
“That is far from the truth,” he said around a laugh. “I’ve made my share of mistakes. Especially with females.”
“Like what?”
“Apparently I’m easily distracted—”
“You are.”
“I don’t need your help in listing my mistakes, Captain.”
“It’s not a mistake. You have a lot on your mind. One just needs to be aware of it so you can be . . . managed.”
“You manage me?”
“Quite well. And is that it? Being distracted because your brilliant brain is constantly turning isn’t much of a mistake.”
“I’m always involved in my precious books and papers.”
“Not a mistake.”
“And I spend more time doing things for the reigning queen than I do for anyone else in my life.”
She blew out a breath. “Still waiting on those mistakes.”
“Isn’t being a distractible dullard who’s never around mistake enough?”
“Not to me. Sounds like you’re just very busy. You simply need to find someone who can handle that. Who respects your space without crowding you. Probably someone who has a job of her own so you don’t become her job. That’s where you probably get into problems, peacemaker. You need an independent female who’s not threatened by all the work you’re doing.”
The royal blinked. “You mean someone like you?”
She shrugged. “Sure. If you like, I can introduce you to a few of my cousins. I’m suggesting my cousins rather than my sisters because you don’t want to have to go through the gauntlet that is my brothers. It’s not fair to any dragon.” She raised her gaze, found the dragon staring at her, eyes narrowed a bit. “What? Are my cousins not good enough for you? Because they’re not of royal blood? Don’t be such a snob, Bram the Merciful.”
With a sigh, the dragon stood. “On that note, I guess I’ll go back to bed. Try to get some sleep.”
Ghleanna pulled a key from the top of her boot. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“I reserved the room across the hall for myself but you can use it. See if you can get some sleep in there.”
Bram took the key from her. “Are you sure?”
“We have a long day of walking tomorrow. Many of the nearby towns are too dangerous to fly over. Plus you didn’t get much sleep last night. So go,” she insisted. “It’s fine.”
“What about you?”
“Addolgar will be up soon enough to take my place.”
“But where will you sleep?”
She looked over her shoulder at him and said, “In the room with you. Unless you snore.”
And that’s when she saw it. When he was dragon, his scales just shined a bit more. But when he was human—his face turned red.
“Wh-What?” he stammered. “No. No. I don’t snore.”
“Then I don’t see a problem. Do you?”
“No, no. That’s fine. I’ll leave it unlocked. Good-night.” Then he went into the room and closed the door.
Grinning, Ghleanna went back to sharpening her weapons.
Bram entered the simple room and sighed in relief. Had she noticed his sudden panic? And lust? No. No. He doubted that. She didn’t notice. She never noticed anything about him, including his attempt not to be overeager about the pair of them sharing a room.
Nay. She hadn’t noticed a thing.
Bram stepped into the room and smiled. Quiet. Lovely, lovely quiet. Without bothering to remove his clothes, he fell face first on the bed and tried to push thoughts of Ghleanna from his mind.
Didn’t work, though. She was right there. Like always. Driving him mad.
And then there was Feoras. She hadn’t said his name but Bram knew whom she’d been speaking of. Feoras the Fighter. So named because he always fought to find a way not to have to do anything. Always looking for the easy way ‘round. The easy way to earn gold, move up the ranks, whatever. Honestly, his name should be Feoras the Jealous. He wanted to be where Ghleanna was but he didn’t want to work for it. Not like she had. The constant training; battles with humans as human so she could hone her skills; taking any dangerous, sure-not-to-survive assignment that came her way. No. Feoras wasn’t willing to do that. But he’d still wanted to be a Captain. A Dragonwarrior Captain who received all the best assignments, led the most important battles. When that didn’t pan out, he’d fucked Ghleanna instead. Then ran around telling everyone. Including many of her soldiers in the Tenth Battalion, hoping to turn them against her. Ghleanna had been mortified and had disappeared for months.
But what she still didn’t know was that her troops had not taken kindly to what Feoras had done. They’d not taken kindly to it at all. And they’d gone after him like rabid dogs after a bone. Last Bram had heard, Feoras was still on the run, hiding out somewhere in the Creese Mountains. And Bram hadn’t said a word to Ghleanna about it, because he’d hoped that Feoras would be tracked down and killed in short order so that it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t very merciful, but as he’d told Ghleanna—his mercy only stretched so far.
Then again, everyone learned that about him eventually.
Ghleanna finished sharpening the blades of her axes, her sword, and her knives. By the time she slid the last blade into her boot, the door to the bedroom her brothers slept in opened—followed by a nightmarish amount of snoring—and closed.
Yawning and rubbing his face with his hands, Addolgar dropped onto the stair right beneath Ghleanna. Unlike Bram, he’d never be able to sit next to her without his shoulders forcing her into the wall.
“Anything?” he asked around a yawn.
“Nope. Quiet.”
“Get some sleep. We have a few hours before the suns rise. I can take it from here.”
“You sure?”
“Aye. Go, sister. Because nothing is worse in the morning than you without enough sleep. Cranky cow that you are.”
“Thank you so much for that. The love of my kin simply overwhelms me.”
Addolgar motioned her away with a flick of his hand and Ghleanna walked up to the room she’d put the royal in.
“Oy,” her brother whispered. “What are you doing?”
“Sleeping with the royal. It’s just for a few hours.”
Her brother grinned. “Saucy wench.”
“I just mean I’m staying in the same room, you dirty bastard.” She pointed at the room her younger brothers slept in. “You can’t expect me to put up with that for the ne
xt few hours?”
“No, no. I really can’t.”
Ghleanna stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
The royal slept fully clothed on his stomach, his long silver hair reaching down his back, his head resting on his crossed arms. And, except for his breathing, he was silent.
No. She’d not be sleeping in her brothers’ room this night. Not when she could sleep in wonderful silence without having to make herself deaf first with one of her blades.
Ghleanna carefully placed her two axes and her sword on the wood chest at the foot of the bed—she still had blades strategically placed in her boots and inside her chainmail shirt and leggings should something need to be killed during the night—and eased onto the mattress beside Bram. He didn’t even move or wake up and she realized how exhausted he must be.
Once she was stretched out on her back, one arm behind her head, the other at her side, Ghleanna let out a luxurious sigh. Now she’d be able to sleep like a baby.
That is until Bram wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her in tight against his body. Ghleanna froze. Was he awake? She didn’t think so.
She tried to remove his hand from her waist, but he only gripped her tighter. Then he moved closer, pushing into her side, resting his head on her shoulder, his face turned toward hers. His eyes were still closed and his breathing normal. He was asleep but . . . still. He was awfully affectionate while he slept.
“Bram?” she whispered, loath to wake him up, but . . . still. “Bram.”
He moved around a bit, sighed out, “More oil. Bring me more oil so we can see all those delicious scars.”
Good gods, what was he going on about? Or maybe she didn’t want to know.
Deciding there were worse ways she could be spending the night—like in a room with her brothers—Ghleanna stopped worrying and went to sleep.
It was the first good sleep she’d had without the help of ale in six bloody months.
Chapter 6
“Wake up!” a voice boomed, shocking Bram into wakefulness. “The two suns are nearly up and we must face the day!”
“Shut up, Addolgar,” another, sweeter voice said from beside him.
“Don’t have all day, sister. We need to get on the road. Many miles to go.”
“I am quite aware. Now piss off!”
“Suit yourself.”
The door slammed shut and the body that sweet voice belonged to burrowed in deeper beside Bram.
“Uh . . . Ghleanna?”
“Just another five minutes,” she softly begged. “Just another five.”
But in less than five minutes—more like ten seconds—Ghleanna jerked away from him, wide dark eyes gawking.
“What are you—” she began.
But Bram quickly cut in, “I was here first.”
“You . . . oh. You were.” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “You got a bit clingy when I stretched out last night.”
“Did I?” Bram sat up, ran his hand through his hair. “Sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize. And you weren’t . . . I mean, your hands didn’t go . . . I mean . . .” She let out another breath. “You were quite proper is what I mean to say.”
“Good. Good.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed. “Then we can forget it ever happened.”
“Right. Good idea. It never happened. We were both just . . . tired.”
“And all that snoring.”
“Right! The snoring. How could anyone expect us to sleep with that lot snoring away? We had to sleep together. It was necessary.”
“Although,” Bram admitted after a moment, “it was quite lovely, wasn’t it?”
“Aye,” she replied, her voice soft. “It was.”
“Thank you for that.”
“And thank you. That’s the best I’ve slept in—”
The door swung open again, cutting off Ghleanna’s words. “Oy!” Cai yelled into the hallway. “Addolgar did see ’em in bed together! Who knew the little bastard had it in him?”
Hew stuck his head in. “They still have their clothes on. What’s the point of being human if you’re going to do it with your clothes on? Playing with the flesh is the best part.”
“Maybe they got dressed quick.”
“Nah. I bet they just slept.” Hew shook his head. “Boring.”
“Not everyone’s like you, Hew. Running around, fucking anything that moves.”
“Let’s go!” Adain yelled from out in the hallway. “I want to eat!”
The door slammed shut and Bram closed his eyes, trying to remember that this would all be over soon enough.
“That was a bit awkward,” Ghleanna sighed.
“Of course it wasn’t. We’re dragons. We don’t have all those weak sensibilities like humans.” He waved toward the door. “That was nothing.”
“Come on, you two whores!” Addolgar bellowed from the hallway, most likely waking up the entire building, and if not, the brothers’ laughter probably did the trick. “It’s time to eat! Let’s move, move, move!”
“Okay,” Bram told her. “Now that was awkward.”
After a quick morning meal in the pub, they’d gotten on the road as the two suns rose, heading toward the ocean and the port where they’d meet the boat that would take them into the Desert Lands. As they walked, Ghleanna kept thinking about what had happened that morning. Waking up in Bram’s arms—even fully clothed—had been . . . strange. Mostly because she’d been so comfortable. She’d never been that comfortable in a male’s arms before.
Maybe it was because the royal seemed so non-threatening. He was Bram the Merciful, after all. He never ate humans and was always running around trying to create alliances and truces with their kingdom’s enemies. He’d never been in a battle in his life and hadn’t even noticed the one right outside his own castle gates.
He was definitely not the kind of dragon she ever saw herself with. As a warrior from a warrior clan, she’d always been with other warriors. Then again, she’d rarely stayed the night and when she did, she never slept in those warriors’ arms. And Ghleanna was even less comfortable with human males.
But Bram . . .
She shook her head, confused. Annoyed. But surprisingly refreshed, as if she’d had a full twelve hours of sleep.
“You all right, sister?” Addolgar asked her after a few hours on the road. “You’ve been very quiet today.”
“Aye. I’m fine, brother.”
“Is it the royal?” he asked, his voice low so only she could hear. “Should I break him in half for you?”
Ghleanna smiled. She’d always been very close to Addolgar. They’d spent a lot of time together killing things in battle and weren’t very far apart in age. And it always warmed her heart how protective he was of her, although she was often the last one who needed that protection.
“No. That’s not necessary.”
“If it becomes necessary, you simply say the word.” They walked on for a bit and Addolgar added, “He’s not terribly weak, though.”
“What?”
“The royal. He’s not too weak, I don’t think. And he doesn’t look weak. His human body’s not very large but it probably helps him blend in more with the humans. And as dragon he’s a tolerable, average size.”
“Your point?”
Her brother shrugged. “Maybe you should see all that’s in front of you rather than just a small piece. I wanted a She-dragon tiny and soft, like a kitten. And yet my mate is everything but. And I adore that about her.”
Ghleanna sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Mum, but it is a very sweet thought, brother. Still, I think I may be too much She-dragon for our peacemaker. What kind of do-gooder like him would tolerate how many times a year I go out and kill things for sport and profit? I’m rarely home and when I am home, I’m usually recovering from battle wounds and working with one of our blacksmiths on new weapons I want to try out.”
“You give him too little credit, I think. Besides”—A
ddolgar leaned down and whispered in her ear—“when he doesn’t think you’re looking, he stares at your scars.”
What Bram had muttered in his sleep the previous evening came back to her, but she brushed it away and said, “All that proves is he’s odd.”
“Not at all. I know that look. Me mate has it for me when I get home fresh from a battle. He likes those scars, Ghleanna. He likes them a lot.”
Aye. Crazy. Every one of her kin was absolutely stark raving mad.
Bram was digging through his travel bag and walking, trying not to trip on anything, when he realized that he was surrounded by Ghleanna’s younger brothers.
He slowed to a stop. “Is there something you lot—”
“No, no. Keep moving.” Adain shoved Bram forward while Cai and Hew nervously looked back at Ghleanna and Addolgar. “You, uh . . . you like our sister, yeah?”
What in holy hells was going on with everyone?
“Sorry?”
“You,” Adain pushed, “like our sister. That’s what Addolgar says.”
“Well, I don’t see—”
“All we want to say is that if you want to, you know, take a run at her—we won’t rip your arms and legs off.”
“Take a run—”
“Our sisters call it the Gauntlet. Most blokes aren’t good enough for ’em, you see.”
“Human or dragon,” Hew added. “Don’t matter. They’re mostly idiots.”
“But you’re not bad,” Adain confided. “And the females like the pretty ones.”
“I don’t—”
“Look, all we’re saying is that if you want a shot at her, we won’t stop you. The last bastard she was with—he hurt her.”
Cai whispered, “She don’t like to admit it, though.”
“Right, but you, you’re supposed to be real nice. Feeble maybe, but nice.”
“I am not—”
“So maybe you can take her out sometime. Or buy her something a female would like. Flowers or whatever.”
“And,” Hew insisted, “tell her she’s beautiful.”
“She is beautiful.”
“Yeah. Tell her just like that. Like you mean it.”