Dragon Actually

notice.

“You make everything so difficult, Princess.”

“No. I don’t. I don’t need you to baby me, Bercelak. To always protect me. I can’t be queen if you’re constantly stepping in and telling me what to do.”

He stopped moving. “I was only trying to protect you. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

“No. It’s not. If I’m ever queen, I’ll have guards for that. They will protect me from enemies. But I’ll not bed them.”

His black eyes focused on her face. “You better not.”

She finally chuckled. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

“Good,” he grumbled while he took several steps toward her. “I’d hate to kill all those guards for no reason.”

Rhiannon grinned and moved around him, their bodies getting closer and closer. “I will always listen to your counsel, Bercelak. But you must trust me to make the best decisions I deem necessary.”

He stared at her body, but didn’t respond.

“Bercelak?”

“What?”

“I’d actually like an answer on that one.”

He turned back to her face. “An answer on what?”

“Your attention seems to be waning.”

“Not really.” His eyes again roamed over her dragonform. “You’re dragon, Rhiannon.”

“Aye, Bercelak. I am.”

“Then come to me. I plan to take you as dragon.”

She knew how this game was played, although she’d never found anyone worthy. Until now.

With a shake of her head, her white hair falling around her, “You’ll have to catch me first, Low Born.”

Then she took to the darkening skies, her lover hot on her tail.

It was her screaming that woke him the next morning. Bercelak scrambled up and searched the area for more soldiers. But all he saw was a screeching Rhiannon.

A screeching human Rhiannon.

“Look at me! What happened?”

He had no idea. When they’d finally worn themselves out after finding many more uses for their tails, they’d nearly passed out more than fallen asleep, exhaustion of the day and night finally catching up with them.

But when they’d slept, Rhiannon the dragon lay curled against his side, her light sleep-growls making him feel more content then he ever had before.

Yet here she was before him in the harsh light of the two suns. As human. It didn’t matter to him whether Rhiannon was human or dragon. As long as she was his. But he knew it bothered her, which meant he had to fix this.

“Rhiannon—”

“Look at these spindly things!” Her arms flailed wildly over her head. “And all this soft, useless flesh!”

If she were trying to get him hard and lusty, she was succeeding quite nicely.

She turned and pointed at her ass. “And I could be wrong, but I think this thing is even bigger than is normal for a human my size. How is that acceptable?”

Quickly, Bercelak shifted. “Rhiannon, calm—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! That bitch did this to me, and I’ll make her pay for it!”

She stormed off and Bercelak had a hell of a time keeping up with her. Anyone else, he’d assume they were merely spouting centaur shit about challenging the queen. But he would put nothing past Rhiannon, especially when she was this angry. Yet she could not face her mother now. Forget the guards who never left the queen’s side. Rhiannon was still human—and clearly would remain that way as long as the spell remained unbroken—her powers not nearly as strong as when she was dragon. And since he’d never seen the queen shift to human in all the decades he’d been at her court, he somehow doubted she’d do it now if her daughter issued a challenge. In fact, he felt relatively certain nothing could get the queen to shift to human while Rhiannon still breathed.

“I wish you’d stop for a second so we can talk.”

“Talk? About what?”

“About what we need to do next.”

“Besides kill my mother? I have no idea.”

Grabbing hold of her arm, Bercelak pulled her up short and turned her to face him. “We’re in this together, Rhiannon. You and me. What hurts you, affects me the same way.”

“You don’t understand.”

He gripped her other arm gently and pulled her close. “Then explain it to me.”

Rhiannon took a deep breath and stared at the ground. “She knew how much this would hurt me. How much not being dragon would . . . would eat away at me until there was nothing of me left.” She looked up into his face. “I know you don’t see it. I know you don’t see my mother’s true intent. You’ve always had a blind spot when it came to her. But she won’t be happy until she’s destroyed me, Bercelak. Until she’s taken every last bit of me. Your family . . . they love each other. Your mother protects all of you, and your father . . . he’d die before he let anything happen to one of you. But I don’t have that with my mother or my siblings. I never have and I never will.”

She took a deep breath and pulled out of his grasp. “She will make you choose, Bercelak. I know you don’t believe it. But trust me on this.”

With one sad, long look at him that completely destroyed his heart, she turned and walked off. Back to the castle and the safety of his kin.

Rhiannon sat on the slanted ledge outside her room, staring out over the battlements of Ailean’s castle and lands as the two suns faded to make room for the night. All that kept her from falling was her sturdy foothold on the slats.

She wondered what she’d do next. Wondered where this particular path was going. She knew now she loved Bercelak. She knew it because she’d risked her life for him and because seeing the hurt look on his face had ripped the heart from her feeble human chest. She loved him, but she could only bring him pain. Her mother would make sure of that. Gods, how she hated that female. Her own mother. No matter what humans thought, dragons were not the godless creatures they believed her kind to be. They loved, they despaired. They felt joy and pain. They experienced all those things humans thought only their kind could feel.

For more than eighty years, Rhiannon had cut off her heart. She didn’t allow herself to feel much of anything, but still her mother found a way to hurt her. Not really surprising, though, since only a mother knew how to truly hurt or enhance children. Where Bercelak’s mother always had a kind word or a soft touch for her lawless brood, Addiena only had derision and complaint for hers.

Rhiannon didn’t realize how much she’d missed having her mother’s love until she came here. Until she watched Bercelak’s kin with each other.

Part of her wanted to hate them. Hate them for giving her hope she could one day feel as safe as they all did. That one day, she’d have a family that fought and screamed and generally annoyed each other nearly to death, but who still loved and protected each other as if it were their right.

But no . . . she’d never have that. She’d never have that life.

She sighed and debated whether to go back in when Maelona screamed, “Don’t jump!” It startled her and Rhiannon felt her body slip on the smooth tiles, her balance gone. She slid down, her hands scrabbling for something to grab onto. Her human body would never survive this fall and she had no idea how to stop herself without wings.

Her legs flailed over the side of the ledge and she slid into nothingness.

Bercelak, leaning back in his father’s favorite chair, took the goblet of wine his mother offered him. He glanced at her and she smiled.

“Don’t worry. It’s not your father’s. It’s mine.”

Nodding, he took a long drink.

Her hand slid over his face, cupping his jaw. It was something she did often because she could.

“Mother?”