She glanced behind her and realized that more of his troops blocked her escape.
Annwyl glared at her brother. “Afraid to face me yourself, Lorcan?” He wouldn’t even meet her eyes. “Can’t you answer me, brother?”
“You can direct your questions to me, Lady Annwyl.”
She looked at what could only be Hefaidd-Hen. Unlike Fearghus and his kin, she saw no beauty in this beast. No sense of grace or elegance. Just a cold-blooded killer. His dragon body appeared almost skeletal. His color a sickening maggot white. His dragon eyes a pale, watery blue. Just looking at him made her skin crawl.
“Are you ruler of Dark Plains now, Hefaidd-Hen?”
“I am merely counsel to Lorcan.”
“And what has been your counsel to my brother?”
“That he should not waste his time killing you. He should leave that to me.”
Annwyl stilled her panic. The queen supposedly gave her a gift that would help her fight Hefaidd-Hen. She had no idea what her flames would do, but she prayed that the queen really did help her. She prayed hard. For although she could hear Brastias calling to his men, hear them battling to get through the line of troops separating her from them, she still knew. She knew, as Hefaidd-Hen reared back to take in a lungful of air, that they would never get to her in time.
She looked at her brother. “No matter what happens, this isn’t over, brother.”
Fearghus flew as fast as he could, Morfyd doing her best to keep up with him, calling his name. He ignored her. Morfyd saw the ambush. An ambush for Annwyl only. As strong as she was now, she would never be able to face Hefaidd-Hen down. Never be able to win against him. He wasn’t just a dragon, but a wizard as well. His flame, like Morfyd’s on occasion, would be rife with Magick.
But as he closed in on the ridge his woman now stood on, he could see he wouldn’t be in time. No matter how fast he flew. No matter what he did. He would lose her.
Brastias couldn’t clear the enemy troops and make it up the ridge before the foul beast sent a blast that completely covered his leader in a white-hot flame. And no ordinary flame, like the one he saw her dragon-lover spew. But something different. And seemingly a waste of Magick, considering she was just a girl.
But when the flame and smoke cleared, there she still stood. Her eyes shut tight, her face turned away. Everything as it should be. Even her chainmail and surcoat.
Brastias stopped. That wasn’t possible. There should be nothing of her left. Not even ash.
He saw the dragon rear back in confusion as Annwyl slowly opened her eyes and looked around. She most likely expected to see those of her ancestors welcoming her to the next world. Instead her eyes focused on a startled and a little bit disturbed Brastias.
She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows at him. “She’s bloody mad,” he whispered as she swung around and looked at the dragon.
“Did you miss?” she asked sweetly.
The dragon looked as if he were about to answer, but he never got the chance. Fearghus swooped down and snatched him up. The beautiful Morfyd right behind him.
Brastias threw himself back into the fray, but not before he heard Annwyl address Lorcan. “I guess it’s just us then. Eh, brother?”
Lorcan smiled. Things had turned in his favor. He knew he couldn’t battle Hefaidd-Hen on his own. He’d killed dragons before. But Hefaidd-Hen wasn’t just a dragon. He was something completely different. Unnatural. Unholy. Evil. But with Hefaidd-Hen off battling his own kind, Lorcan could finally do what he’d wanted to do since the day the little bitch became part of his life.
He would kill his only sister.
Lorcan brought his blade up and charged.
Annwyl dodged the blade, slicing her brother’s back as he passed her. But the blade barely touched him. He swung around to face her again.
“You’ve become fast, little sister.” He openly leered. “Did the dragon teach you that before he pushed you to your knees?”
The siblings shadowed each other. Moving slowly, purposely. Waiting for the other to make the next move.
Annwyl knew exactly what her brother was doing. He was baiting her. And it would have worked . . . a few weeks ago
“He taught me many things, brother. Although I think it is you that has become the bitch of a dragon. Did Hefaidd-Hen make you moan as he took you?”
Lorcan began to growl, but quickly it became a fullblown roar. He attacked. A straight thrust to her belly. Annwyl parried with one blade and slashed his midsection with the other. She danced back away from him.
Her brother looked down at the blood seeping from under his garments. Annwyl knew the damage was slight. But Lorcan’s shock went to the fact that few ever came that close to striking him before. And that’s when she knew she had him.
His rage exploded out, surrounding her. She knew she should be scared. Or angry. She felt neither. His anger calmed her. Soothed her. She knew the control belonged to her, while he drowned in his own rage.
She stayed on the defensive, letting him come to her. He attacked again, this time swinging at her neck. She blocked the blade and slammed her body into him. Lorcan stumbled back. He righted himself quick enough, though, and brutally backhanded Annwyl. Her body flew several feet before landing. Yet her dragon had hit her like that before while training, so she barely felt Lorcan’s fist. She scrambled to her feet before he ever reached her.
After fighting Fearghus, Lorcan’s moves seemed slow and blocky. Not the fluid movements of her dragon. Suddenly she couldn’t understand what she’d so greatly feared all these years. Hell, she’d faced Bercelak the Great and almost destroyed him. Was her brother really that much of a challenge?
She found herself getting calmer. Seeing his moves long before he ever made them. She could also see his rage burning through his body. He wanted her dead so badly his attacks became sloppier. Soon blood covered him. And none of it belonged to her.
Fearghus took Hefaidd-Hen up toward the suns, his talons digging into the soft white underbelly. He no longer had the protective scales of their breed.
Hefaidd-Hen spat out a spell and an almost unbearable pain racked Fearghus’s body. A pain that came from within. Now he saw that the beast gave parts of himself for the Magick that coursed through his veins. The Magick that Hefaidd-Hen now used on him. But Fearghus wouldn’t let the bastard go. He’d only go after Annwyl again. He couldn’t risk that. So he kept his claws dug deep into Hefaidd-Hen’s flesh and held on.
Another wave of pain tore through Fearghus’s body. He roared. But his roar could never match Hefaidd-Hen’s brutal scream. He opened his eyes to see that Morfyd had attached herself to Hefaidd-Hen’s back. Her claws dug in deep to the white flesh as she spoke a spell that set the beast on fire. And without scales, he had no protection from the unholy flames Morfyd unleashed.
“Now, Fearghus! Now!”
Fearghus dug his claws deeper into Hefaidd-Hen’s lower body and opened him up from bowel to throat.
Hefaidd-Hen screamed. A scream of surprise and utter pain. Fearghus and Morfyd released his body. The unnatural beast plummeted to the ground, vainly attempting to keep his entrails in and put out the fire that covered him. Morfyd spewed another spell at the retreating form and Hefaidd-Hen burst into pieces.
Fearghus glanced at his sister. “That was a bit much, don’t you think?”
She gave an innocent shrug. “I like to be certain.”
Annwyl saw an opening and took it. She lunged and thrust her blade into his thigh. Lorcan roared in pain and slapped her across the face, his gauntleted hand opening a slash across her cheek. She went down on her belly and he straddled her from behind, his two hands on her throat. His rage had him out of control, but she never thought he’d use his bare hands to kill her. She only had seconds before she blacked out. She pulled her dagger from her side and slashed backward. Screaming, he stumbled off her.
Jumping up before Lorcan could recover, Annwyl turned and saw her brother’s hand over his face, blood pouring from between his fingers. She’d slashed him across his eye. Quickly, not wanting to give him any time to attack again, she moved behind him while he kneeled on the ground, cradling his bleeding eye. Her father always taught her that if one destroys a man’s legs, you’ve destroyed the man. Remembering that, she slashed the
