Dragon Actually

will take you. I have some . . . uh . . . plans with a few soldiers near the glen.”

Annwyl shook her head as Morfyd snorted in disgust. “Um . . . all right.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Brastias.”

“Yes, Annwyl?” He stood beside Morfyd trying desperately not to smile, and failing miserably.

“I must take care of something, Brastias. Think you and Morfyd can keep that grain and lumber moving until my return?”

“Of course.” He grinned. “But we’ll let you know immediately if there’s any bloodshed.”

Annwyl looked at him. “And that’s all I’ve ever asked.”

Fearghus stretched out by his lake, his jaw cupped in one claw, the tip of his tail making swirling patterns in the blue water. He sighed. A year since he’d left her the morning after the final battle with her brother. A year since he’d held her in his arms. A year since he’d kissed her. A year since he’d buried his head between her thighs. A year since she’d punched him in the face.

He sighed again. He truly did miss her. He didn’t think he could miss anything or anyone that much. He wanted to go to her. Wanted to take his rightful place by her side. But he feared for her safety. And, more importantly, did she even still want him? What if she’d found someone else? Someone human? Someone who wouldn’t cough and accidentally toss a fireball at her in the process?

Did she already forget about him? Did she still love him? And when exactly did he become so insecure?

He sat up. This is ridiculous. He would go to Garbhan Isle. He’d retrieve his woman. She belonged to him. He’d Claimed her and nothing would change that.

Besides, he couldn’t take it anymore. Everything around his lair reminded him of Annwyl. He could almost smell her. Could almost feel her running up his dragon back, climbing atop his head, and bending her body over him so their eyes could meet.

“Did you miss me?”

“Annwyl?”

Fearghus, startled, jerked and Annwyl fell backward, tumbling down his back and tail. She hit the ground with an, “Oaf!”

He spun around and stared at her, unwilling to believe she was really in his lair. As she struggled to her feet, he shifted.

“Well that was quite the greeting . . . oh!”

He grabbed her and dropped both of them to the ground, his arms protecting her head and back. Once he had her on the ground, he kissed her. Her body’s response immediate and as strong as always. Then he pinned her arms over her head, holding her body down with his. “Where the hell have you been? ”

“Where have I been? Where have you been?”

“Here! Waiting for you!”

She tried to yank her arms from his grasp, but he held on tight. He would not let her get away now. “You left me, Fearghus. I woke up and you were gone. What was I supposed to think?”

“That I wanted to protect you.”

“Yes. So your sister told me. But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have let me go?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He stared at her . . . hard. She glared back.

“If that’s how you feel, then why are you here now, Annwyl?”

“Your mother came for me,” she bit out between clenched teeth.

Fearghus stopped. “What?”

“I said that your mother came for me. Told me it was time to take my place beside you.”

His mother ordered Annwyl back to him. That couldn’t be good. Fearghus was afraid to ask but he had to know. “What did you say to her, Annwyl?”

“I told her to mind her own business.”

“Gods, woman!” Fearghus released her so he could use his hands to cover his eyes in exasperation as he sat back on his heels. “Are you mad?”

Annwyl pulled herself out from under him. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“What else?” He looked at her. “What else did you say to her?”

She shrugged. “Let’s see . . . well, I asked her how Bercelak’s tail was doing?”

Fearghus buried his head in his hands again. “Are you that sure she won’t kill you?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. Figured she’d kill me right on the spot.” She stated it so nonchalantly he knew she was being completely honest with him.

“And yet you . . .”

“Don’t like to be ordered around, Fearghus. You should know that.”

“Well, she clearly didn’t kill you. So what did she say?”

Again the shrug. “She gave me the loyalty of all dragons.” Fearghus stared at Annwyl. Not sure he heard her correctly. His mother handed to a human the loyalty of all dragons? Was he on another plain of existence? Had the gods decided to play tricks on his mind? What in hell . . . “Then she said she had to go, and I asked her if she was going back to her chain.”

His mother’s gift completely forgotten, he tried to look stern, but kept laughing instead. “Tell me you’re lying. Please.”

Annwyl grinned at him. “Wish I could. But it just flew out of my mouth.”

Fearghus grinned back. How could he not? He loved the most difficult woman he’d ever met, and he couldn’t imagine his life without her. He eyed her slowly. A bit leaner and a little darker, he guessed from the time she spent in battle and under the two suns. She still had a thin scar across her cheek from her brother’s gauntleted hand. And his brands stood out clear and triumphant on her forearms. Ah, Annwyl. Still beautiful. And still his.

“That’s a very subtle tunic you’re wearing, my love.”

Annwyl glanced down at the sleeveless chainmail shirt she wore. “I had these specially made. I like my arms to be free and comfortable. Easier to take heads.”

Fearghus nodded. “Did you miss me?”

Annwyl leaned back, the palms of her hands lying flat against the cave floor. Her body stretched tight. Taunting him. Tempting him. After all this time he still wanted her so badly he could barely breathe. “Not really.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Tell me you missed me, Annwyl.”

Annwyl’s eyes locked with his own. “No.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Tell me now, woman.”

She stared at his mouth. “Make me.”

“A challenge, Queen Annwyl?”

“Not a challenge you’d ever be able to live up to, Prince Dragon.”

With a snarl he knew only Annwyl would find playful, he seized her ankle and snatched her body to him, dragging her across the cave floor.

“Oi!”

He pulled off her weapons, yanked off her chainmail shirt, and dragged her leggings from her body, pausing only briefly to lick the brands on the inside of her thighs.

Annwyl pushed at his chest. “You know, I should really beat the living—” He didn’t let her finish. Instead he pushed her down and stretched himself across her, covering her mouth in a brutal kiss. She shoved at his shoulders while her legs wrapped around his waist. Still his Annwyl, always fighting to the bitter end while milking him dry. He grabbed her wrists and again pinned her arms above her head. She growled in response as she sucked his tongue deep into her mouth. He settled between her thighs and buried himself inside of her. Slick and ready, her body shook beneath his with barely contained lust. Her moans and cries desperate against his lips. Her hips arched against him and he thrust hard into her in response.

She’d been gone too long from him. Too many nights spent alone, wondering if she were safe. If she were happy. If she missed him. Too much time apart for both of them, and he would never let it happen again.