“You’re still healing. You need rest—not tales of the past.”
Fed up and worried for her friend—she didn’t remember ever seeing him like this before—Ghleanna straddled Bram’s lap.
He blinked hard, brought quickly back into the moment. “What are you doing?”
Ghleanna tugged off the cotton material that held down her arm and had covered her breasts.
“Ghleanna—”
“Look at me, Bram.”
He smiled a little. “I can hardly look away.”
“I meant look at my eyes, you pervy bastard.” She laughed and said, “Now hear me well. I am no weak female who cannot handle hard news. I am a Cadwaladr.” And her back automatically straightened, her chin lifted. “And we are in this together, you and I. For good and bad. So tell me what you’ve been hiding from me.”
Bram closed his eyes, his breathing deepened. The walls of this place were closing in on him as they’d done to her.
Ghleanna lifted Bram’s hand and pressed it to the wound on her chest.
“We’re bound together, Bram. Nothing can ever change that. Nothing ever will.”
“Understand, it is not shame that stops me from telling you the truth, Ghleanna. It’s fear . . .”
His words faded out, his gaze on hers, and Ghleanna’s brow peaked. “You fear what I might do.”
“As you said . . . you are a Cadwaladr.”
She appeared so insulted, Bram almost felt bad for what he’d said. But she always demanded honesty. So honesty was what she would get.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he argued. “It’s not as if I’m pulling this concern out of my ass.”
She gave a little snort. “You might have a point.”
“I just need to know—”
“I won’t touch her. The Empress. At least not without orders from you or someone who outranks me. There. Happy?”
“Fair enough.” Bram took in a breath, watched his forefinger ease across the scar of her recent injury. He focused on that so he could let the words flow.
“Many years ago. I was lured here.”
“By the Empress,” Ghleanna guessed.
“She wasn’t the Empress then, but yes. By Helena. I was young and she was . . . beautiful, and it never occurred to me that I was being used. Once I was here, they sent word to Adienna that they had one of her royals and they wanted her to return the Fin who had gone past the port towns and been captured by Adienna’s troops.”
“Adienna didn’t bargain.”
“No. She didn’t.”
“Then why did we not hear of this? This is the sort of thing the Cadwaladrs excel at. We should have been sent to fetch you.”
“It was Adienna’s decision to do nothing.”
Ghleanna leaned back, her scowl dark and dangerous, her voice flat. “She left you here?”
“Aye.”
“So what did you do?”
“I bargained my own way out. It wasn’t easy. I learned to enjoy fish. All kinds of fish. And, in time, they eventually let me go.”
“It couldn’t have been that easy.”
“It wasn’t.”
Ghleanna cupped his jaw in her hand. “They hurt you.”
“Yes. Some scales were removed to send to the queen. But that didn’t help.”
“But there was more, wasn’t there?”
“The Emperor’s chancellor decided to make me his personal project. I’m still not sure why.”
“He enjoyed your pain. I’ve known blokes like that. They’re never for the quick kill. Not if they don’t have to.”
“Chancellor Kleitos does like his pain. And he enjoyed mine.”
“But you got out.”
“I did. The Fin Adienna had in her dungeons was Helena’s lover. When Adienna wouldn’t release him, Helena came to me.”
“Because she thought her hostage would help?”
Bram chuckled. “No. She came to me to complain. I’m in chains, missing scales—bleeding quite profusely. And she’s complaining.”
“How’s that funny?”
“You had to be there.” He shrugged. “She complained and I listened, pretended I cared, pretended I empathized.”
“Then you manipulated her?”
“No. I persuaded. And promised I could get her lover out.”
“And she released you?”
“She had no choice. Her father would no longer help and Adienna wouldn’t bargain. Killing me would only ensure her lover’s death.”
“So she let you go.”
“She let me go.”
“And, of course, you returned home and called for revenge.”
“No. I secured the release of her lover.”
“Why, Bram?”
“Because I’d given my word.”
“I’d call you a fool except that I’m sure it is the very reason you’re now the most trusted dragon in the Southlands. Which I’m sure is why she’s asking you to get this truce for her now. You helped her before . . .”
“More fool I.”
“You survived, Bram. Without anyone’s help.” Ghleanna’s head tipped to the side and she studied him. “It couldn’t have been easy for you to come back here.” When Bram only stared at her, “And yet you did. You came here to save me.”
“It was the only place I could think of at the time.”
She stroked his cheek. “Gods, I owe you more than I realized.”
“No. You owe me nothing.”
“Bram—”
“Haven’t you realized yet?” he asked, frustrated. Because the gods knew he didn’t want her pity. “I’d do anything to keep you safe? Anything at all?”
“I was to be protecting you, royal.”
“We’d run out of options.”
Ghleanna framed Bram’s face with both her hands, her dark eyes focused on his mouth. He didn’t know what he’d said to prompt this, but he watched her lean in, his breath halting in his lungs as her lips neared his.
But then there was that damn knock at the door.
Bram closed his eyes. Why? Why were the gods torturing him?
“What?” he snarled.
Kleitos in human form walked in. “I am sorry to interrupt, Lord Bram. But the Empress has requested your presence at the Senate.”
“Of course she does,” he muttered.
“Sorry, my Lord?”
“I said I’ll be there in a minute. Now go.”
“Of course, my Lord. I’ll be right outside.”
Kleitos slinked away, closing the door behind him.
“That was him, wasn’t it?” Ghleanna demanded after a moment.
“That was who?”
“The one who tortured you. The one who hurt you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’re never rude to anyone. Even my idiot brothers. Not only that but I could feel it in your body. The way you tensed. It was him.”
“Ghleanna—”
Ghleanna scrambled off Bram’s lap naked, and stalked across the room. She yanked the door open and Kleitos quickly pulled back.
“Really, Kleitos?” Bram asked, slipping off the bed. “Listening at the door? Isn’t that beneath even you?”
“Oh, no, my Lord. I was doing nothing of the kind. Surely you—owwww!”
Ghleanna had rammed her head into Kleitos’s with all the force she could muster.
“You barbarian whore!”
That’s when Ghleanna hauled back and punched the Fin, most likely re-breaking his nose.
Kleitos scurried away and Ghleanna followed.
“I’m going to enjoy removing your skin, lizard.”
Bram caught Ghleanna around the waist before she could get her hands around Kleitos’s throat. He picked her up and carried her back into their room, slamming the door with his foot.
“You promised!” he roared, shoving her away.
“I promised I wouldn’t touch the Empress. Didn’t say anything about him!”
And damn her, but sh
e was right.
Ghleanna itched to go back outside and finish what she’d started.
Imagining Bram as a young dragon, not even a full-grown adult, trapped in a dungeon and at the mercy of that slithering pond scum had her blood boiling.
She’d been alone like that before, but her kin had come quick enough. And she knew they would. She knew that none of her kin would leave her to die. But they were warriors, trackers, blacksmiths, pit fighters. Bram’s kin were cultured royals who relied on their queen for protection—and she’d failed them. Adienna had left their son and her loyal subject to the whims of the enemy.
And no one had suffered for it. Not Adienna. Not the Empress nor her father. And not Bram’s torturer. Unsurprisingly that stuck in her craw most of all.
“You’re right. You did only promise to leave Helena be. But now I’m asking you to do the same for Kleitos.”
“I’ll not make that promise, peacemaker.”
“He’s chancellor, Ghleanna.”
“I don’t care.”
“Do you wish to get out of here alive?”
“Of course I—”
“Then I want you to leave him be. Do you understand?”
She looked off.
“Ghleanna . . .”
“Yes,” she hissed. “I understand.”
“Good. I need to go.” He frowned at her chest. “Your wound is irritated.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Yes, but—”
“It’ll be fine!”
Bram stepped back, raised his hands, palms out. “I’ll see you later then.”
He turned but Ghleanna caught his arm.
“Ghleanna, I have to go.”
“I know. It’s just . . .”
“Just what?”
Ghleanna raised herself onto her toes and pressed her mouth against his, her hands sliding into his hair, fingers digging into his scalp.
Bram caught hold of her waist and she thought he meant to push her away. But he pulled her close, held her tight, and slipped his tongue into her mouth.
Her human body heated, her nipples hardened, her sex became wet. It was all instantly there. And instantly perfect. But then Ghleanna was falling, everything around her spinning.
Bram caught her in his arms. “Ghleanna?”
“I’m all right.”
“I’ll send for the surgeons.”
“No, no. Just bed. I’m just tired.” He didn’t look like he believed her. “Don’t question me, royal. Just take me to the bed and go to your meeting.”
Bram picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. With infinite care, he placed her on it, then covered her with the fur.
“Get some sleep. We’ll talk more later.”
Talk? As far as Ghleanna was concerned they were long past talking. But the peacemaker was skittish. Best not to spook him.
She nodded. “Later then.”
Ghleanna watched him walk out, the door closing behind him, and her mind turned.
For the first time in six months, she wasn’t thinking of her own misery. She was thinking of others—and how to make their misery worse.
Chapter 10
When Bram didn’t return for several hours, Ghleanna got up again and found some leggings that fit her.
She opened the door—still unlocked—and walked out into the hallway. There were new guards at her door. They turned, facing each other, and slammed the butt end of their pikes into the ground.
“My Lady—”
“It’s Captain.”
“Captain.”
“Why are you human?” she asked.
“Orders, Captain.”
That was good enough. They probably didn’t get an explanation and knew better than to ask for one. “I’m hungry. Any food around?”
“We can have the servants bring you—”
Ghleanna waved that away. “Not in the mood for servants. I need to move around a bit. Or am I still under arrest or whatever you’re calling it?”
“No, Captain. We are merely here as protection for an honored guest.”
Ghleanna blinked. “Honored guest? Wasn’t it just a few days ago that I was the horrifying Low Born that had to be kept human?”
“They still want you human, Captain, but you’ve been given leave to walk where you’d like.”
So the Empress was sucking up—interesting.
Ghleanna started off, but eventually came to a stop. “And you’re to follow me everywhere?” she asked the guards right behind her.
“Yes, Captain.”
Good. Even better. “Well, what’re your names then?” “Anatolios, Captain. This is Demetrius.”
“Anatolios. Demetrius. Does the Empress feed her guards and soldiers well?”
“She does, Captain.”
“Good. Take me to where you eat.”
The arguing turned out to be quite monumental. Full of passion and eloquence.
And yet . . . it was also a phenomenal waste of time.
These senators, the representatives of the Fin populace, were arguing the logic of a truce with the Southland Land Dwellers. A very good discussion to have for any ruling body—except that these senators did not rule. They had no power except that which their monarch allowed them. And Helena, like her father before her, allowed very little.
But she enjoyed the arguing, enjoyed sitting on her throne and watching all of them go at it like wolves after a deer carcass, only to overrule them when they were done.
Even more annoying—she wanted Bram to be a witness to her power. As if he cared. As if any of this mattered when he could still feel Ghleanna’s skin under his fingers. Still taste her on his lips.
At the moment, that was all that mattered to him.
Bram.
Bram blinked, glanced around. Helena smiled at him.
Br-amm.
That sing-song voice. But . . . but that was impossible. Absolutely impossible. Only immediate kin could communicate with each other among dragon kind. He’d already been in touch with his parents and sister. He’d only told them that he was safe and caring for a wounded Ghleanna. He had not told them where he was caring for her. He knew how they would take it and he didn’t want them to worry.
So they wouldn’t contact him unless it was urgent—and this female voice was not his mother’s or his sister’s.
Br-ammmmm.
Good gods.
There you are, my little ray of sunshine!
Rhiannon? How are you . . . why are you . . . what is happening?
Calm down, Bram. Calm down.
But how?
My witch skills have advanced quite a lot lately. Soon I’ll be able to create a space so we can talk directly to each other. Won’t that be fun?
Actually . . . no!
Rhiannon giggled. Oh, Bram. Just so cute!
Ghleanna ate the cooked and seasoned fish and let the soldiers in the hall stare at her. Almost all of them were in human form—orders from their Empress, according to Anatolios. The royal was sucking up to Bram by sucking up to Ghleanna. That slut.
But Ghleanna would not worry about any of that now. She had other things to deal with.
“All right,” she said loudly, so the entire hall could hear her. And they all tensed a little, watching her closely as she pushed her seat back, stood, and sat down on the long table, her feet in her chair.
“What do you want to know about me?”
“What makes you think we want to know anything about you, Land Dweller?” a Fin from the back of the hall asked.
“Because I killed Grimhild the Vile. The Lightning warlord.”
“That’s a load of—”
“I tore him open from bowel to throat. I wear his horns on my battle helm and his scales are hammered into my shield. His teeth are a decorative necklace I wear at family gatherings.”
Another Fin stepped forward. “And what makes you think we’d believe that?” He stepped as close as he dared, appearing tough to his comrades, but still out of arm’s
length. At least he was out of arm’s length for dragons who’d rarely fought as human before. “What makes you think that we’ll believe a little twat like you brought down Grimhild the Vile?”
Ghleanna slammed her foot down, breaking the wood chair into pieces. She picked up a leg and swung it. The soldier, unprepared, tried to block the blow with his arm, but Ghleanna spun, changed her trajectory, and sent him flying back twenty feet or so.
Biting pain hit her at the site of her recent wound, but she ignored it. Convincing herself she felt no pain, she tapped the chair leg against the palm of her hand and said, “Grimhild called me a twat, too.”
She smiled. A little. “So . . . would you lot like to hear how I brought the big bastard down?”
Why, Rhiannon, are you in my head?
First my question . . . are you all right?
And that’s what was different between Rhiannon and the old queen. Rhiannon actually gave a shit about her subjects.
I am perfectly well, Rhiannon. And Ghleanna is healing.
Good. Bercelak . . . he never says it, but he adores his sister. As do you, I think.
As do I . . . you know.
A soft laugh. My dear, sweet Bram. But . . . that female. The Empress. What does she want from you?
I don’t know—
Don’t lie to me, peacemaker. You wouldn’t be alive if she didn’t want something.
Why did he bother trying to hide anything from Rhiannon?
She wants a truce.
With me?
Aye. She’s quite . . . adamant about it. I can try to put her off until Ghleanna is at full strength but—
No, no. See what her terms are.
My Lady?
I am not my mother, peacemaker. I can be reasonable. It’s a new time for us all. A new time of hope and of change and of—
You want access to the coast so you can attack the Lightnings, don’t you?
And it is time for those barbarian Lightnings to bow down before me.
You want me to arrange peace with one breed so that you can destroy another?
Get me my truce, peacemaker. Make me a happy monarch.
And then—Rhiannon was gone.
Ghleanna walked out of the army dining hall, Anatolios and Demetrius behind her.
“You do eat well,” she told them.