Annwyl reached out her hand and brushed her fingertips lightly over the scales on his snout. She let her hand rest there as she closed her eyes and leaned back.
She had no idea how long they stayed like that, but when she finally couldn’t stifle a yawn any longer, Fearghus spoke up. “You’d best get to bed, Lady Annwyl.”
“Aye.” Annwyl pulled her legs out from under the dragon and stood up, shaking off the pins and needles that ran through them. “That demon knight you’ve trapped me with is quite the task master.” His head still remained close, so she bent down and kissed the dragon on his black snout. “Good night, Lord Dragon. And thank you.”
“For what?”
She smiled. “For nothing at all. Which is exactly what I needed.”
Annwyl walked past him to get back to her chamber. As she left she couldn’t help but slide her hand across his leathery wings and the scales of his body.
* * *
Fearghus closed his eyes as her hand swept across his body. Something she did almost every night now before going to bed. Although he didn’t expect her to kiss him. It took all his strength to not shift right then and there. To kiss her back as he wanted to. To do what he could to take away her pain over a cruel father and a sadistic brother.
His sister was right, of course. Unforgivable brat. He did long for the girl. Longed to make her his own. But the reason she felt so comfortable with him was because he was not a man. From men she’d only known pain and abuse. Yet a dragon protected her. Cared for her. Saved her life.
He thought of her touching his human flesh the way she touched his scales. Running her hands along his body, the skin sensitive to the touch because of the shifting.
His entire body shuddered at the thought, and he headed toward his lake. The water, cold and bracing, was just what he needed right now.
Hefaidd-Hen glared at the flames and wondered what the hell was going on. He’d never really focused much energy on seeing into Dark Glen before. He never cared. But his instincts, which were never wrong, told him he could find the girl there. And he needed to find the girl.
Not for Lorcan. He could care less whether the fool ever got his precious revenge. It seemed that the girl had more reason to want her brother dead. But Hefaidd-Hen needed the girl for other reasons. He had to stop the rebellion and she was the key.
For he had plans. Important plans he needed Lorcan for. The girl, however, would never be stupid enough to trust him. He could never have made her an ally. But Lorcan, so lost in his rage, didn’t even realize that someone like Hefaidd-Hen would never waste his time on such petty battles. Unless he wanted something in return.
So he needed the girl out of the way. Every day she pulled more and more loyalty from the other kingdoms to her side. What had started out as a poor and rather ineffectual rebellion had become something much more deadly and decisive in the girl’s capable hands.
Lorcan insisted he wanted her alive, so he could have the pleasure of taking her head. And Hefaidd-Hen would do what he could to keep the fool happy. At least for the time being. But if the girl had to die first, she had to die.
Hefaidd-Hen looked back into the flames and frowned. He still couldn’t see anything. What could possibly be strong enough to block him? It must be powerful Magick because there were few who could match him.
Whoever or whatever protected the little whelp needed to die as well.
All these little distractions took him away from his plans. And soon his patience would run out. Especially with Lorcan. He didn’t realize someone could be so dislikable. But the man was. Never happy. Never satisfied. Any failure met with brutal and uncontrollable rage.
Hefaidd-Hen wondered how long before he lost his patience with the puny man. He had a feeling he’d know soon enough.
Chapter 9
“If you want him, take him.” It sounded more like an order than anything else. And Annwyl felt compelled to obey. She smiled at her own centaur shit. She wanted the man. Nothing the witch could say either way would ever change that.
Annwyl reached the stream where she and the knight always met to practice. She stopped short, taking in those broad shoulders and back that tapered into the narrow waist. He crouched by the stream, his body taut and ready under his chainmail. Even before he turned around she knew he was beautiful.
He glanced over his shoulder, sensing her presence. “Well, hello, pretty lady.” He pushed thick golden blond hair out of his eyes and leered at her. Openly. Didn’t even try to hide his lust.
“Who the hell are you?” Considering almost all feared Dark Glen, there seemed to be many visitors here of late, her included.
“Gwenvael is my name. And you are?”
“Your worst enemy, unless you tell me your business here, knight.”
She glanced down at his surcoat and noticed it bore the same color and crest as the one worn by her knight. Another mercenary it seemed.
Gwenvael stood up to his full height and Annwyl tightened her grip on her sword, ready to unsheathe it if need be. He was enormous. And she had no doubt her knight and this man were brothers.
“I’m here to see the dragon.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“My, we are protective.”
“Yes. We are. Now answer my question.”
“I have a message for him. From family.”
“Really? Well, give it to me. I’ll make sure he gets it.” She held out her hand.
The knight smiled. “Actually, the message is in my head, sweet one.” He took her hand, and brought it up to his lips. Annwyl watched as he kissed the tips gently, all the while staring into her eyes. She let him finish, then pinched his nose between her thumb and forefinger. She twisted until she got a cry of pain from him.
“Don’t touch. I don’t like to be touched.”
“I see that.”
“Say you’re sorry or I’ll take it off.”
“Sorry. Sorry!”
She released him. He rubbed his nose and pouted. She couldn’t help but smile. So very cute. And so very charming. Of course she still wouldn’t trust him with her dead horse.
His sister was up to something. He could tell. He’d known her for over two hundred years and she’d been annoying him senseless that entire time. But she would tell him nothing now. She was still too angry at discovering his double life.
But she would never be as angry with him as he was with himself. Yesterday had been the final straw. He had no intention of touching Annwyl, much less kissing her. He, in fact, had started to walk away. But, once again, he couldn’t help himself. And when she kissed him back. . . .
Yet today would be different. Today he would get control of this human body of his. Today he would not touch her. He wouldn’t even look at her. Today he would face the fact she was human and he a dragon.
Fearghus sighed. When had everything become so difficult? When you just had to rescue her, you idiot. He now realized he should never have gone out to help. He should have let the humans fight their war as they’d been doing for centuries. As soon as he became involved, everything became difficult. Complicated. Now he had his sister and some human girl living with him. Who else exactly would appear to drive him insane?
He realized too late he should never have entertained that thought as he came upon them. They sat by the stream. His unmistakable charm oozing from every pore while she laughed loudly at whatever he’d just said. She almost looked as if she were flirting.