He cradled her in his arms and kissed her sweat-covered forehead. He closed his eyes. When they awoke he’d tell her the truth. All of it.
Whether his mad little warlord wanted to hear it or not.
Chapter 10
Annwyl awoke to find the shadows deepened and herself naked in the knight’s arms. She turned her head, and their eyes locked. He watched her silently. And she guessed he had been for quite a while.
He started to speak and Annwyl stopped him. “Don’t.” She pulled away from him, picked up her clothes, and walked off. “See you tomorrow.”
See you tomorrow? Fearghus sat up and watched her walk off. She didn’t even look back at him as she walked and put her clothes on at the same time. She barely acknowledged his existence. She wouldn’t even let him speak.
Fearghus clenched his fists, his rage swarming around him. He needed to hurt something. To destroy something.
Fearghus’s eyes narrowed. Gwenvael.
He stood up with a growl. He needed to find his brother. He needed to kick the shit out of something and Gwenvael would do quite nicely.
Gwenvael sat in one of the chairs in Annwyl’s room, his feet up on the table. He’d done his task. He’d given Morfyd the message. And she would make sure that Fearghus got it. Now he could play. And he’d bet all his gold that Annwyl could be quite the entertainment. Sweet. Innocent. And his brother was crazy about her.
He didn’t blame him. She was a beautiful girl. Tall. Scarred. A little mean. And he’d always liked that in a female. He loved it when they were mean. But that wasn’t what really interested him. It was the fact that “Don’t bother me” Fearghus had finally fallen. And fallen hard by the looks of it. He thought his brother would rip his guts out when he saw him talking to Annwyl.
Absolutely nothing made his day more fun than when he could drive Fearghus insane. True, Fearghus might be firstborn, but Gwenvael always felt his particular birthright was to torture his siblings. And Fearghus had always been his greatest challenge, therefore his favorite. Mainly because Fearghus was the quintessential dragon. He never moved faster than he had to. He never got upset or seriously angry. He never worried. And he never seemed to care about anything except his privacy and his quiet.
Then the human came along. When he heard that Fearghus rescued a human, Gwenvael had been shocked. When he found out it had been Annwyl the Bloody, notorious sister of The Butcher of Garbhán Isle, he became intrigued. And now that he’d seen his brother desperate with lust . . . well, things just became much more interesting.
Besides, he thought with a growl, I still owe him for my tail.
He heard her coming a league away. The woman stomped like an elephant.
Annwyl stormed into the chamber and stopped as soon as she saw him.
“I was wondering where you’d gone.”
“What do you want, Gwenvael?” She wasn’t in the same mood she’d had been in a few hours before. He fought back the smile. He could smell his brother all over her. It seemed that Fearghus had finally stopped being a prat.
“I just stopped by to see you. Is there anything wrong with that?”
She sighed, heavily, and stomped across the room. She stopped in front of a large wood chest. “Where did this come from?” At his shrug, she smiled. “Fearghus.” She said it so softly, he almost didn’t hear her. Annwyl knelt down and opened it. There were clothes inside, but she ignored them for the dagger that lay on top.
He wondered what dead nobleman’s hand his brother pried that little item from. Gwenvael watched her examine the blade and became bored. Time now to have a little fun.
“So, where’s my brother?”
“I have no idea.” She tested the weight of the blade.
“I hope you’re not . . . well, getting any feelings for him. That would be a mistake.”
“Really? And why is that?” She gripped the handle of the dagger with one hand, while checking the sharpness of its blade with the other.
“I just don’t think he could appreciate a woman like you.”
“And you?”
Gwenvael gave that smile that had gotten him more pleasure than he cared to admit. “I am not my brother, lady.”
That’s when she moved.
She was up and across the room, snatching him out of his chair in mere seconds. Annwyl slammed him face down on the table, her knee against his back to hold him in place. The point of her blade burrowed into the skin of his neck. As human, that blade could easily kill him.
She leaned in and spoke quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and your brother. And I don’t want to know. But I’ll not be the bone between you two dogs. So take yourself from my sight. I am in no mood.”
With that she lifted him off the table and shoved him from the chamber.
The crazed bitch had more strength than he had known, he realized as she sent him tumbling from her presence.
He fell and slid across the cave floor, coming to an abrupt stop when a large boot slammed into his head. He looked up and braved a smile. “Oh. Hello, brother.”
With a growl, Fearghus lifted him off the ground by the back of his neck.
Morfyd reached down and pulled an Aouregan root. The materials she collected were for a spell that might help her destroy the protective barriers surrounding Lorcan. But she found the yelling simply too distracting. And when her baby brother literally flew over her head and landed in a heap not a quarter league from her, she decided it was time to say something.
“Fearghus!” She stepped in front of her advancing brother and put her hand on his chest. “Leave him alone.”
“Just let me kill him. Please.”
Morfyd bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. After all these years her brothers still couldn’t get along.
“No. She’ll never forgive you if you kill him. She still resents you for his tail.” To this day she remembered her three other brothers playing catch with the tip of Gwenvael’s tail and her mother raging like never before. It was funny then and it was still funny now.
“I hate him, Morfyd. I hate him.”
“I know.” She patted her brother’s shoulder. “But he is all our burden to bear. Our pain.”
“You know what?” Gwenvael jumped up, his rage pouring off him in waves. “You’re all bastards. And I hope the lot of you rot in hell.”
“You just stay away from her, you little toe-rag!”
“What’s wrong, big brother? Can’t handle your woman?”
Morfyd barely dodged in time to avoid the fireball Fearghus let loose. But it hit Gwenvael full in the chest, sending him flying back into the trees.
“Keep him out of my sight, sister.”
“Fearghus . . .”
“No!”
She’d never seen her brother so angry. And she had the distinct feeling it had very little to do with Gwenvael’s presence—for once.
“Wait.” She caught up to Fearghus and grasped his arm. “Gwenvael brought a message.”
Fearghus stopped walking. “From who?”
She smirked. “Who do you think? And he’s not happy. He doesn’t want us involved in this Sibling War.”
Fearghus looked at his sister. “And this means what to me?”
She sighed. “We can’t just ignore him.”
“I can and I will. You do whatever it is you need to do, sister.”
He snatched his arm away and walked back into his cave. She wouldn’t bother going after him. There would be no point. She knew as soon as she got the message from Gwenvael that this would only set Fearghus’s resolve. He never liked anyone telling him what to do . . . anyone.