Dragon Actually

more than any of his brothers, “boy.” Most likely because he knew how much it irritated the living hell out of him.

“Father. You sent for me.”

“Aye. Word came from the queen today.”

His mother stiffened beside him. She always did that whenever a mention of the queen came up.

“About?”

“Princess Rhiannon.”

His heart stopped in his chest. “What about her?” Although he was afraid to ask. The acrimonious relationship between mother and daughter had almost taken on legendary proportions. And Rhiannon was barely a hundred and twenty-five winters. Gods, could the queen have finally done something to her?

“You are to have her.”

Bercelak frowned, which seemed amazing even to him since he frowned most of the time. But this made him frown more.

“What does that mean?” his mother asked before he had a chance. “He is to have her?”

“It means that the queen wants you to mate with her daughter.”

“Over my dead—”

“Shalin,” Ailean cut her off. “This isn’t your decision. It’s the boy’s.”

“Yes, but—”

“I know how you feel about Addiena, Shalin. But, again, this is Bercelak’s decision. Not yours. Not mine. Nor the queen’s.” Silver eyes focused on him. “If you don’t want her, tell me now and I’ll fight the queen on this. I haven’t seen her in centuries, but I’m sure I can still be quite”—his father grinned—“persuasive.”

Shalin snorted and turned away, but his father continued, “But I wanted to give the option to you. What is your decision?”

He had no decision to make. He’d made it long ago the day he saw the white dragoness. He was barely fifty winters and she was already fifty-two. An older dragon. He’d never been to court before and he’d accompanied his mother this time. He made his first misstep as soon as he entered the Queen’s Hall. He stomped on the snowy white tail of a princess. Her rage was instantaneous and without waiting for an apology, she sent the tip of that tail directly for his eye.

What few knew, but eventually learned, was that all of Ailean’s children were raised . . . well . . . differently than other hatchlings. Bercelak couldn’t remember a day when his father didn’t come jumping out of somewhere dark, grab his tail and toss him across the room. Not to be abusive—although it was—but because he wanted his offspring’s reflexes to be better than anyone else’s. And, to Bercelak’s annoyance, it worked. While other dragon warriors were caught off guard or had run from fear during battles, Bercelak never flinched, never feared, and he definitely never ran. Not ever. Instead, he destroyed any and all in his way until they finally gave him the title of Queen’s Battle Lord. The highest rank a low-born warrior dragon, such as himself, could hope to obtain.

So, on that day, when he saw that razor-sharp tail point coming for his face, he reacted as he would with any of his kin; he grabbed hold of that tail and swung, flinging the princess and heir to the queen’s throne across the Queen’s Hall and right past her mother.

As the queen’s guard took firm hold of him, he thought for sure he’d die that day. But the Queen . . . she had other plans. And, to be honest, didn’t seem to care how he’d treated her daughter.

But he did care. After that, he tried everything to get Rhiannon to forgive him. To get close to her. But when she saw him, she rolled her eyes and went the other way. If he tried to speak to her, she yawned in his face and left him standing there.

Eventually, he left her alone. But he never gave up wanting her. And that hadn’t changed. That would never change.

“I’ll take her.”

His mother gripped his arm. “Bercelak—”

“It’s all right, Mother. I know what I’m doing.” He looked at his father. “I’ll take her.”

Ailean grinned. One of those big, toothy grins that annoyed Bercelak to no end. “Somehow I thought that’s what you’d say. She’ll be waiting for you at your den.”

Bercelak and Shalin passed glances. He’d thought for sure he’d have to go get her himself. This was Princess Rhiannon after all. And she never let anyone forget it.

Bercelak tilted his head to the side. “She will?”

Rhiannon took to the air as soon as she walked out of Devenallt Mountain. She flew and flew, determined to make it back to her own den before nightfall. She had much planning to do since she knew her mother would probably plan a counterattack of some kind immediately. But her den was a stronghold. With the help of wizards loyal to her, she’d put up so many Magickal and physical defenses around her cave home, there was no way her mother would ever be able to break through.

She flew past forests and towns. Castles and farms. Few saw her. The ones who did screamed in terror and ran away. Gods, she must be angry. She didn’t even go down and snatch a quick meal from one of the villages or simply revel in their screams.

She headed to open sea, moving quickly since the wind was with her. She neared a large mountain when she felt it. A small tickle in her stomach. She knew it was her mother and immediately chanted a spell to raise stronger barriers around her body. But before she could get them in place, the power of the gods passed through her like a flash of lightning . . . and then she was falling.

Desperate, she tried flapping her wings, but nothing. Then she looked down at herself . . . and she screamed in horror.

Human. Her mother had shifted her to human. And she was unable to shift back!

Seconds before she hit the ground, she had one last thought. . . .

Oh, shit.

Bercelak stared at the naked female crumpled in front of his den. White hair, matted with blood and dirt, covered her except for the small odd brand on her bare shoulder.

Leaning in, he sniffed her. No . . . she wasn’t born a human. She was in fact a dragon in human form.

Well . . . there goes dinner.

He pushed her with his snout, forcing her onto her back. When he saw her face, his heart stuttered in his chest for a second time this day.

Rhiannon. Princess Rhiannon. His Rhiannon.

He looked her over. She was bloody and broken. He looked up at the sky and realized that’s where she’d dropped from. No wonder the queen said Rhiannon would be waiting for him at his den. This was where she’d dumped her daughter.

This can’t be good.

But it didn’t matter. He finally had her. He had his Rhiannon. And he planned to keep her . . . forever.

Screaming. Why is there all that screaming?

Rhiannon moved and the screaming became decidedly worse, but she also realized the screaming was in her head.

She put her claws to her forehead, hoping to push back the pain . . . except something didn’t feel right. Her head felt different. So did her claws.

By sheer will, she opened her eyes and stared at her talons. Except they weren’t her mighty white talons she proudly kept sharpened. They were—she frowned in confusion—they were nails. Human ones. So was the claw those tiny useless nails were attached to. Not her mighty claw, but the claw of a human. A . . . a hand.

She looked down at herself and realized she hadn’t been dreaming. Human. Her mother had turned her human. She’d shifted to human many times, but only to fool the humans around her . . . well, and to see if her human form was remotely attractive. Otherwise, she lived her life as a dragon and never understood those who didn’t. Why anyone would want to be human was beyond her understanding... And damn it all, she was brilliant!

Knowing she needed to calm down, Rhiannon took a deep breath and slowly released it. Once she’d cleared