Dragon on Top (16 page)

Chapter 19

The Sand Dragon King's first born son and his entourage of fifty, a count that did not include his battalion of warrior dragons, gazed down at Rhiannon for several minutes. He said nothing as he watched the queen, then sniffed and turned from her.

Bercelak had his sword out and almost embedded in the Prince's back but the black dragon was taken down by at least four of his brothers and three of his sisters.

“I'll sign,” the Prince said, sounding more bored than he'd been on the trip—which was no small feat. He represented his father on this, the king refusing to sign anything until he or someone he trusted had met with the new queen. So instead of Bram getting the signature he needed and returning to Rhiannon with alliance in claw, he'd been forced to bring the Prince and his entourage back to the queen's court. It would have been an intolerable and long trip, too, if not for Ghleanna.

Bram held up the parchment and handed him a quill. The Prince scratched off his signature and walked out, his entourage and guards following.

Ghleanna motioned to several of her cousins, “Escort them to the Borderlands. Keep 'em safe until they cross.”

Once the Prince had left her court, Rhiannon snarled, “The arrogance!”

“He is the Dragon King's first born and heir to his throne,” Bram reminded her.

“A throne of
sand
. As if that's anything to brag about.” Rhiannon closed her eyes and roared, “Bercelak! Would you leave your brothers and sisters alone!”

“They started it!”

 

 

Rhiannon opened her eyes and smiled at Bram. “So my Lord Bram, it seems there are traitors in my midst.”

“Aye, my queen.”

“Did you get any names from Feoras?”

“Well . . .”

“I took his head before we had the chance,” Ghleanna admitted.

“Honestly!” Rhiannon shook her head. “Just like your brother. Kill first, ask questions of the corpse later. Well . . . I guess I'll just have every Elder interrogated until someone admits his involvement—”

“Or,” Bram quickly cut in, “I could do a quiet inquiry into the matter. Perhaps I can find more accurate information than torture can provide.”

“Did I say torture? I don't remember saying torture. But your mercy, as always, leads the way. So you have my permission.”

“Thank you, Majesty. And the truce?”

“Truce?”

“The one you wanted with Empress Helena?”

“The squid? Oh, yes. Yes.” Although Ghleanna knew the conniving cow forgot nothing. “Leave the documents with Elder Margh.”

“Very well, my queen.”

“And thank you, Lord Bram, for all your excellent work and sacrifice.”

“I'm at your service and the service of your throne.”

She smirked. “I know.” Rhiannon glanced at the alliance document the Sand Dragon had signed. “But I must say that when Bercelak and I have
our
offspring, we will never allow them to be as arrogant as that!”

Ghleanna passed one quick glance to Bram before they both replied, “Uh-huh.”

 

 

But she did. And now Bram had
two
sets of black eyes glaring at him.

Finally, he said out loud, “It's not me! I swear!”

Rhiannon laughed and leaned back from Bram. “So cute! Isn't he cute, Bercelak?”

“No.”

“Bercelak's only teasing.”

“No, I'm not.”

And then Ghleanna was there, prying Rhiannon's forearms from around Bram's shoulders.

“Back off, she-viper! This one's mine. You've got yours. Now you're stuck with him!”

“Oy!” Bercelak bellowed.

Bram pulled Ghleanna away from the one Dragonwitch who could turn her blood to acid. “Everyone just calm down. There's no point in—”

“And what the hells is going on with you and my sister?” Bercelak demanded.

“Uh . . .”

Ghleanna stepped between Bram and her brother.

“I wouldn't challenge him if I were you, Bercelak.”

The greatest Dragonwarrior snorted. “Is that right?”

“He's got skills.”

“What skills?”

“He's a right good head-butter. You should see what he did with the Fins.”

Good gods, had the female gone mad?

Bercelak moved in. “Their heads are soft—like pudding. Not like mine. Hard as granite.”

That's when Ghleanna said, “Addolgar says his head is harder than yours.”

“That's 'cause it is,” Addolgar happily tossed in.

“Centaur shit.”

“Come on then, brother. Try me.”

Bercelak refocused his attention on his brother and Ghleanna grabbed Bram's claw and dragged him out of the throne room.

“Wait . . . are they really going to—”

“Head butt each other until one passes out or dies of blood on the brain? Yep. They really are.”

“And they protect our queen and lands. How reassuring.”

“You'll get used to it.”

“Ghleanna.” And Bram stopped, bringing her up short.

“What is it?”

“I'm a dragon. I naturally assume I always get what I want. But there are no guarantees with you, I'm afraid.”

She grinned. “Are you asking me now what you should have asked me a fortnight ago when we were lounging in the Sand Dragon King's salt springs?”

“Well, I couldn't rightly ask with your brothers, sisters, and cousins constantly popping in to stare at us and say, ‘You two ain't done yet? What exactly are you doing in there anyway? '”

“Good point. But you are asking me now?”

“I am.”

“To be your mate?”

“I am.”

“Because you love me as I love you?”

“Aye.”

“Because you can't imagine your life without me?”

Bram cupped Ghleanna's jaw with his claw, stroked a talon across her scales, and in a heartfelt whisper replied, “Aye.”

That's when Ghleanna crossed her forearms over her chest and demanded, “Are you going to keep hugging that Rhiannon?”

“But it's not me!”

Epilogue

“Bram?”

Bram looked up from his work and smiled. “You're back quick.”

His mate shook her head. “We've been gone eighteen months battling bloody Lightnings.”

“Oh.” He pointed at the document he worked on. “This is the truce for that. If it makes you feel—”

“It doesn't.”

Oh, well. Best not to dwell, and changing the subject was always a good way to go. “Did you know they insisted I add a clause just for your nephew? What exactly was Gwenvael doing in the north?”

“You really don't want to know.” She came around his chair and dropped into his lap. “Just wished you'd been there to calm that situation down.”

“Or you could stop bringing Gwenvael with you
anywhere
.”

“That's our next option. At least not until he has a mate who can control his whorish ass. He's beginning to rival my father!”

“Beginning?”

“Och! Let's not speak of it.” She kissed him and Bram held her tight.

“Have you gotten any sleep since I left?” she asked while Bram kissed a new scar on her throat.

“Why go to bed when you're not there?”

“Well, I'm back for a while.”

“Is it just you?” And Bram was already leaning in to kiss her again.

“Hello, Da.”

Bram's eldest slammed his blood-and-gore encrusted battle axe onto the table—on top of Bram's books and papers. “I'm starvin'. Any food?”

“Well—”

“Da.” His second oldest, a dragoness who looked just like her mother, unloaded a battalion's worth of weapons onto the table—on top of his books and papers. “Any food? I'm starvin'.”

“I just asked,” her brother remarked.

“Are you saying I can't ask?”

“I didn't say you couldn't ask, you whiny little cow.”

Two more of his offspring stormed in, dropping into chairs and putting their feet up on the table—all on top of his damn papers!

“You really want more offspring?” he had to ask Ghleanna as he always asked at moments like this.

“Just three more. Maybe four. Addolgar already has six!”

“Well, I'm not trying to keep up with your siblings, Captain! And do you think we can teach the next lot better manners?”

“They'll still be Cadwaladrs, luv.”

“Guess that's a no then.”

“Oy!” Ghleanna barked at the lounging dragons. “Get your hooves off the table and put your weapons away like I bloody taught ya!”

Grumbling as they liked to do, his offspring did what they were ordered. They'd learned early not to question their mother's directives. Not if they, to quote Ghleanna, “Know what's good for them.”

“Look at this mess they left,” Ghleanna complained. “Charles!”

“He's out researching something for me and his name is Jonathan. Charles has been gone from this life for ages.”

“I know. But I still miss him,” she sighed. “Bang up job he did.”

“Jonathan will be gone for a few days.” He kissed her neck. “Perhaps the offspring can go to the pub tonight. For a few hours.”

Ghleanna laughed and put her arms around Bram's shoulders. “I'm sure that'll be hard to do. You know how pious they all are.”

Bram buried his nose against her neck, breathed in deep. “Gods, female. You smell like blood and death.”

 

 

Ghleanna smiled.
Honestly, this dragon
. “I'd be insulted, peacemaker, and hurt, if I couldn't feel your cock trying to burrow its way through me chainmail.”

“You've always known what you do to me, Ghleanna. Especially when you come back from battle with all your new scars and still covered in the blood and gore of our enemies. There's only so much a dragon can take!”

“All right. All right. Calm yourself. You barely notice when I'm gone and then you're all over me when I'm here.”

“It's how I get through our time apart. It's worked so far. Now kiss me again.”

She did, melting at the way his tongue delved deeper, his fingers stroking her shoulders and back. He'd do the same when he got her naked, but then he'd be slower. Lingering over every part of her. It made it worth coming back to a bloody castle rather than a cave.

“We're hungry.”

Ghleanna glared across the table at her youngest male offspring and the rest of the brats standing beside him. “Then go get a cow.”

“You're not going to feed us? What kind of mother are you?”

“One that can separate your legs from the rest of ya!”

“Or,” Bram cut in, “you can go to the pub. We'll meet you there later.”

Her youngest daughter shrugged. “Ain't got no money, do we?”

“I don't understand. Why aren't you pillaging like the rest of your kin?”

“It was the Northlands, Da. Ain't nothin' to pillage but the crows in the trees.”

“And snow,” their eldest added. “Lots and lots of snow.”

Bram motioned to his study. “You know where I keep the gold coin.”

As if on fire, their offspring made a desperate run for their father's study, climbing over the table and fighting each other through the door. It wasn't pretty.

“Ghleanna—”

“You tolerate them because you love me,” she quickly reminded him.

“Gods, I do love you. I even love that lot. Crazed, murdering scum that they are.”

“They are cute. And already making their names. And . . .”

“And?” Bram pushed.

“I was promoted to General.”

Bram's smile was real and so very warm.

He hugged her tight. “My beautiful, beautiful mate. I'm so proud of you.”

She knew that. Reveled in it. “And believe it or not—I got my rank directly from Bercelak.”

“How the hells did you manage that?”

“No idea. And you know how he is. If we're Cadwaladrs, we gotta kill twice as many as other Dragonwarriors before that tight-lipped bastard will even grunt in our direction.”

“Still a ray of sunshine, is he?”

Ghleanna laughed until their brats tore past them again on their way out the castle doors.

“Off to the ale,” she muttered.

“And leaving us alone.”

“Aye. That they have.” She pressed her forehead against her mate's. “Gods, I've missed you, peacemaker. Those bloody cold nights fighting those damn Lightnings. And all I wanted was to get home to you.”

“You are, Ghleanna. You are home. And I've never been happier.”

Coming next month,

 

 

the newest in G.A. Aiken's

 

outrageously funny Dragon Kin series!

 

 

 

I, Gaius Domitus, one-eyed rebel dragon king of the Provinces, know that better than most, since I have to fight off half my ungrateful family on a regular basis to keep law and order here in my lands. But I never expected to have to consort with a barbarian human woman.

 

Kachka is beautiful, if you like them fierce—and of course I do. But she keeps complaining about how spoiled and decadent I am, and how a feared Daughter of the Steppes has no time for foolish dragons. I think she likes my eye patch, though. It is quite dashing. With death always at our tails, we take our passion like we take our allies. As they say, love the barbarian you're with . . .

 

 

 

“A chest-thumping, mead-hall rocking, enemy-slaying
brawl of a good book.”

 

—All Things Urban Fantasy

 

“Aiken aces another one.”—
RT Book Reviews
, 4 stars