“Wha—” he began but Brannie shoved him against the nearest tree trunk.
Startled and annoyed, Aidan barked, “What did I do now?”
She stood in front of him, hands again on her hips, and staring directly at him.
“Well?” he demanded. “What did I do?”
Her left hand slipped behind his neck and pulled Aidan close.
“Branwen—”
“Quiet,” she ordered, her gaze fixed on his mouth.
Aidan knew he could have stopped her. Knew he should stop her.
But as his lips neared hers, all he could think about was what it would be like to kiss Branwen the Awful. He had to know. Even though he knew he shouldn’t.
Just a kiss, though. That shouldn’t be too big a deal. Just one kiss.
* * *
He appreciated her tail and warned off Uther and Caswyn. How could she ignore that?
Brannie knew she couldn’t. So she decided to try her test. The kiss. If the kiss fell flat . . . then she wouldn’t think about Aidan in any other way than as the best friend of her favorite cousin. It was her easiest way of ruling out males—dragon or human—that would be a waste of her time.
A bad kiss usually meant a bad everything else, so why bother?
With that in mind, Brannie pulled a gawking Aidan close until their lips were inches apart. She took a breath and leaned in, pressing her lips to his.
Her first thought was, Yeah . . . okay. Eh.
That was . . . until Aidan kissed her back.
He tilted his head a bit and used his tongue to open her mouth. A shock, like getting hit with a lightning bolt from a Northland dragon, went through her. From her lips and down her body until it shot out her fingers and toes.
Aidan’s hands, balled into fists at his sides, loosened and came up until he could cup her jaw.
Their kiss deepened, their tongues delving. Brannie pushed her naked body against his chain mail–covered one. Her arms going around his shoulders, her fingers digging into his hair.
That’s when he turned them both and pinned Brannie’s body against the tree. He was reaching for his leggings, but she beat him to it, shoving them down while she kept up their kiss. Not letting him break away.
She lifted her leg and wrapped it around his waist. With one push he was inside her and they both gasped and smiled at the same time.
Brannie returned her hands to his shoulders, digging her fingers into the back of his neck. She knew that might hurt a bit, but she got the feeling Aidan would like that.
She wasn’t wrong.
Aidan hiked her raised leg a little higher and pinned her body to the tree trunk with his weight. Then he pulled his hips back and, with one glorious push, he shoved his cock back in.
Her breath caught and her fingers dug harder, urging him on. He wasted no more time, fucking Brannie hard with long, powerful strokes.
When Brannie had pulled down his leggings, she’d still been kissing him, and hadn’t managed to catch sight of his hardened cock. But she didn’t need to see it. She could feel it. Filling her up completely, hitting a spot deep inside her.
Every nerve inside her came alive, her body now meeting his stroke for stroke. It took little time before she was panting and trembling, her pussy contracting tight around him. She pulled her mouth away from their kiss so she could bite down on his shoulder. She did that to stifle her screams as she came hard, her brain briefly shutting down as everything around her exploded.
* * *
She moved his chain mail aside just so she could bite down on his shoulder. The bite was hard, drawing blood. And it was all Aidan needed to send him over the edge, coming hard inside her, his hips jerking, his hands gripping her waist.
She was coming too and that made his release even stronger. If they were attacked right now, he was sure he couldn’t fight back. He’d be oblivious even if a sword rammed into his spine.
But Aidan didn’t care. Not when something felt this good. It was like her pussy had been built just for his cock, wrapping around him perfectly and holding him tight.
And when her pussy began contracting . . . his eyes crossed and he briefly wondered if he’d lose consciousness.
He didn’t, but when they’d both wrung themselves dry, they were still clinging to each other, panting and sweating, even in this cold.
Aidan had no idea how long they stayed like that but Brannie’s tap against his shoulder pulled him back to the moment.
“The suns are coming up,” she warned, meaning the rest of their camp would be rising at this very moment.
“Right,” he muttered, working hard not to growl when he forced himself to pull out of her.
He stepped back and gazed at her.
“No, no,” she said with a shake of her head, trying to pretend she wasn’t still panting. “We’ll have none of that.”
“None of what?”
“That look.”
“What look?”
“That look on your face that says you’re feeling a bit . . . clingy. We needed to get this out of our systems and we did. That’s it.”
“Is it?”
“Aye. It is.”
Brannie took a step and nearly crumpled to her knees but Aidan caught her, got her back up, worked even harder not to laugh.
“Not a word,” she cautioned.
“Wouldn’t think of it.”
Tossing her head back, she took a few tentative steps, found her balance, and headed toward the water.
“Need to cool down?” he teased.
Throwing her arm back, she raised two fingers at him.
“Awwww,” he said, laughing, “now that was just rude!”
Chapter Twelve
“Why are you smiling?” Caswyn asked Brannie while they were packing up their horses.
“No reason,” she replied, dropping her head down. She needed to get hold of herself.
“Don’t lie to me. What are you plotting?”
Now Brannie looked at the big dragon in human form. “What?”
“You heard me.” His eyes narrowed. “What are you planning?”
Whispering, she replied, “Just your death.”
Now Caswyn’s eyes grew wide in panic but there was Aidan, pulling his friend away and back toward his own horse.
“We’re losing daylight,” Aidan announced. “Let’s move.”
He briefly stopped on the other side of Brannie’s horse to glare at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Stop it.”
“I didn’t do anything. He’s being paranoid.”
“Is he?” Aidan asked, sounding wonderfully judgmental.
Good-byes were said to her kin, the triplets hugging Brannie hard before mounting their horses and heading off. Rhona stopped long enough to give her one of her speeches about duty and honor, but when she realized that Brannie had stopped listening halfway through, she went back to her old tactics of hitting her once in the back of the head and ordering, “Don’t be stupid!” Then she, the other dragons, and all those wonderful weapons and armor were gone.
They turned the opposite way and began their journey toward the Port Cities. It had been ages since Brannie had been to the port towns, where a growing number of lands and people brought their wares to sell and trade. It was completely logical that Ren would head there to go home.
Which was why Brannie was still hoping that Ren was alive and well. Maybe even heading this way with his mother’s army at his side.
For once, Brannie did feel bad for Keita. She’d forgotten how close Keita and Ren had always been. Not as lovers. She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think they’d ever been lovers. But as best friends? Maybe even siblings? That they were. That they would always be.
And losing someone you considered a brother or sister had to be hard. Thinking of Izzy being cut down in battle made Brannie sick and they’d been like sisters since they’d met all those years ago.
Even now Brannie missed Izzy. After her morning with Aidan, the
first thing Brannie would have done would be to tell Izzy. In detail. And not having her here hurt. Their kinship went beyond the blood and tough times they’d shared during battle. They considered themselves sisters on another level. Their species differences—dragon versus human—meant nothing when it came down to it. Because they understood each other as no one else had ever understood them.
Brannie’s brother Celyn didn’t even understand her the way Izzy did. And this trip would be ten thousand times more tolerable if only her best friend were here.
“Such sighs,” Aidan remarked from beside her, pulling her away from her thoughts. “What makes Branwen the Awful so miserable?”
She gave a little smile. “I’m not miserable. Just missing—”
“The great Izzy?”
Brannie nodded. “This is the kind of mission she loved when there was no war to pull us away. For some, a proper holiday is in the Desolate Caverns. For me and Iz, it was finding shit to get into. A little protection work. A little killing when necessary.” She sighed again. “I miss our holidays.”
“Wasn’t it one of your holidays with Izzy where Éibhear nearly lost a foot?”
Eyes rolling, “Gods, is he still going on about that? We wouldn’t have let him be sacrificed. I don’t know why he goes on so about it.”
“Because he almost lost a foot.”
“All these years and he’s still a big baby.”
Keita suddenly pulled back on the reins of her horse and looked around.
Brannie stopped behind her cousin and sighed once more. “You’re lost, aren’t you?”
“I am not lost. I’m just . . .”
“Lost.”
“Orienting myself!”
“This road does lead us to the Port Cities,” Aidan pointed out.
“But remember what the priest said. He didn’t lose Ren in Port Cities, so I’m just—”
“Lost.”
Keita glared at Brannie. “We are not lost, peasant!” She suddenly pointed. “There. We should head that way.”
Eyes narrowing, Brannie grabbed Aidan’s arm before he could ride off with his Mì-runach brethren who would automatically follow.
“Why?” Brannie asked Keita.
“Why what?”
“Why would Ren turn off that way?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Because I’m almost positive you’re guessing. And we don’t have time for your guesses. So why don’t we just go to the Port Cities, then backtrack ten leagues northeast? See what we find?”
“I’d rather follow in Ren’s claw-steps, thank you very much.”
“That’s fine, but you don’t know where that is.”
“We are five dragons,” Keita needlessly reminded her. “I think we can handle a little off-road searching.” She pointed at a large dent in a nearby tree. “And the mark on that tree. That’s from Ren. A message to me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Every day, but in this instance, I just want you to be sure. It’s not like we have a lot of time here, Keita.”
“I am well aware of our time limits. So”—she threw out her arm in a big, sweeping gesture—“can we please go, cousin?”
Brannie glanced at Aidan, but all he did was give a small shrug, which meant he was leaving this decision completely up to her. And since she was the ranking officer, that was probably for the best.
Taking the lead, Brannie steered her horse into the trees and hoped they weren’t making a mistake they’d regret later.
* * *
It took Aidan some time to realize that Keita wasn’t merely wandering aimlessly. She was actually following the tracks of her friend. More than once, she’d dismount from her horse and study the ground, or nearby trees.
Shocked, Brannie kept looking at him, as if she expected him to tell her, “Don’t worry. You’re dreaming. Your flighty cousin isn’t a well-trained spy and tracker.”
But she was. And she was damn good.
After three hours of moving through the forest, Keita paused near a small town called Aberthol.
Aidan had passed by this town often when he was on the move with his Mì-runach brethren. But he’d never had the time or need to stop in for the night. It was so far from main roads, Aidan doubted many made Aberthol one of their stops.
So to find evidence that the Zealots had made the town one of their sanctuaries wasn’t exactly shocking.
But he’d admit that the sight of the massive fort not even a mile from the town . . . that was a bit of a shock.
And the rows and rows of humans who had been “purified,” staked out in meticulous lines? That, too, took them all by surprise.
Keita’s horse reared back after sniffing the first victim. The decomposing body on its knees, body staked to the ground by a wood spike through its diaphragm and out its spine and directly into the dirt. Its head tipped all the way back, hardened silver covering the sockets where the eyes used to be before they’d been burned out. The mouths frozen open in panic and horror.
That was the Zealots’ “purification” process when their victims refused to give up their gods and their beliefs. They poured molten silver into their victims’ eyes and allowed them to slowly die under the two suns. It might take hours . . . sometimes days.
Keita expertly got her horse to back up until she was safely hidden in the trees beside the rest of their small party. With a nod, she turned her horse and rode farther away from the fort.
When she finally stopped, the rest of the group surrounded her and Keita’s gaze landed on her cousin.
“On Annwyl’s land?” Brannie bit out between clenched teeth, her anger great.
“You need to calm down.”
“I need to kill them all.”
“So many bodies,” Caswyn muttered. “How could they kill so many defenseless people?”
Few of the bodies purified appeared to have been warriors. Most appeared to be locals.
Keita took in a breath. “I know this is . . . disturbing.”
“It’s more than that.”
Holding up her hand to her cousin, Keita went on. “But I think Ren . . .” She took a moment, looking off and licking her lips. Attempting to get control of her emotions.
The royal cleared her throat. “I need to know if Ren is in—”
“I’ll go,” Brannie announced.
“I can’t ask—”
“You didn’t ask. But I’m not sending you in there. I can get in.”
“What if the Eastlander is . . .” Uther paused a moment, worried how to phrase the rest of his sentence. “. . . among the . . . uh . . . purified?”
“They’d know,” Aidan explained, “that as an Eastlander he must be a royal. He’d have a place of honor. Either inside the fort or right outside the main gates. I doubt he’d be left among the rows of the dead.”
“If he’s here. I’ll find him,” Brannie said.
“I’m going with you,” Aidan told her.
“No. I need you to get Keita to the Eastlands if—”
“Caswyn and Uther can get me to the Eastlands if necessary,” Keita cut in. “Aidan, go with her. I don’t want my cousin in there alone.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“No,” Keita said with a determined shake of her head. “No.”
“The suns have gone down,” Aidan announced, dismounting his horse. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirteen
Letting their horses go with Uther and Caswyn, Brannie and Aidan stayed in the line of trees surrounding the fort and waited.
They waited in the same position for hours. Even when it began to rain and they were soaked to the bone, they waited.
This was why Brannie had sent Keita off with Uther and Caswyn. Not just to keep her safe but because Brannie didn’t want to hear her complain the entire time that they needed to “move! Move now!”
As a Protector of the Throne—something that still had Brannie’s mind spasming
every time she thought about it—Keita might have the patience necessary in every assassin, but knowing Ren might be trapped inside that fort, possibly being tortured . . .
No. It was best she was kept out of the middle of this for now. For her own good and the good of everyone else.
The downpour had stopped by the time Brannie saw what she’d expected all along . . . that this fort was very well protected.
For those unwilling to wait, it probably appeared as if the fort was undefended like many of the temples in the Southlands. But the Zealots weren’t like other god worshippers and this was no temple. It was a battle fort. Nothing more or less.
So, as Brannie patiently waited and watched, she finally saw the changing of the guard. Zealots seemed to appear out of shadow and mist to be replaced by comrades who, just as smoothly, disappeared into shadow and mist.
Once she was positive of where the guards were located, she looked at Aidan. He nodded and, still crouching, they began to move through the trees until they were across from the best spot to get inside.
Now it was their turn to move as if part of shadow and mist. A skill Brannie had been trained in when she was still clinging to her father’s tail. Her poor father. She’d loved creeping around and sneaking up on him when he was involved in his work, scaring the wits from him. In retrospect, it seemed cruel. Her father was as far from a warrior as one could get. But he’d always been a good sport about it.
“You’re like your uncles!” he’d exclaim, picking her up and tossing her high in the air, laughing at her hysterical giggles. “Always trying to find ways to scare the very life from me.”
But it was those early years of childish play that had trained her for this.
* * *
Aidan was glad Keita had insisted he accompany Brannie into the fort. He would have insisted if she hadn’t, but the order was better coming from her. That way Brannie could be annoyed with her cousin rather than him.
His need to go with Brannie wasn’t because he feared so greatly for her safety. Not at all. He just didn’t want her alone in a Zealot-run fort. He was sure there were priests and priestesses inside who could manage a rampaging dragoness if Brannie were forced to shift. And magick sometimes trumped just being a very large dragon. Especially when the dragon didn’t have any magickal skills of her own besides being able to shift.