“What?”
“I said, ‘How do you know him?’”
He tore his eyes away from her chest. “Who?”
She frowned. “Am I annoying you, Lord Dragon?”
Annoying wasn’t the word he’d use. “No. Why?”
With a shrug, “Just wondering. You seem a little tense.”
She caught the end of his tail with both hands. Her fingers were long and strong, and he could easily imagine those hands stroking him to climax.
“The tip of your tail is sharp as a blade and the entire length of it muscle. Do you ever use it as a weapon?”
He cleared his throat. Anything to distract himself from her magical hands. “I have.”
“Fascinating.”
It really didn’t help that she insisted on touching him all the time. He never had a human come near him as dragon, much less constantly explore almost every inch of him. He grunted. She
Why the hell had he involved himself in the Sibling War anyway? He should have just kept sleeping.
“What is it exactly that bothers you about him?”
“Everything.” She glanced down at the water. “How deep is this?”
“I can get my entire body into it. And ‘everything’ seems like a lot.”
“He’s smug.” She gripped his tail between both her arms and held on tight. “Lift me.”
“Are you insane? And
“Yes. But he’s irritatingly smug.” She still clung to his tail. “Please,” she begged with a smile.
With a dramatic sigh, Fearghus lifted his tail, the girl going with it. She squealed and laughed, warming his heart.
“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
