Chapter Seventeen
With their passage secured for the following day, Aidan returned to the pub with a bickering Brannie and Keita. At this point, they weren’t going at each other as hard as they had been doing before. Now they were just bickering like cousins tend to do.
It was annoying but not dangerous. He could deal with annoying.
As soon as Aidan walked into the pub, he spotted Caswyn and Uther sitting at a table with the Riders. He cut through the crowd until he reached them, but he felt his stomach drop when both looked up at him with bloodshot eyes, their bodies hunched over their pints of ale.
“So you’re going to the Eastlands to start another war, eh?” Kachka asked.
Eyes wide, Aidan found himself stunned again into silence.
Then it got worse.
Zoya Kolesova slammed her fist onto the table. “We will come with you, comrades! Help you start this war with the evil Empress! We shall kill them all and bathe in their Eastlander blood!”
Keita gasped and Brannie put her middle finger to her forehead and pressed hard. He sensed she had a headache now.
“What have you been doing?” Keita demanded of Uther and Caswyn.
“Chatting with our friends,” Uther said.
“We told them everything,” Caswyn admitted. “And we did it loudly.”
Before Aidan could move, Brannie had slammed Uther’s head into the table, then moved on to Caswyn. She grabbed him by the throat and lifted him out of his chair, slamming his back against the wall. The full tables beside them cleared out as the humans fled.
She pinned Caswyn’s drunk ass to the wall with one hand.
“I should have killed you when we were still on that mountain!”
“Bran—” Aidan began but she silenced him with one raised finger on her free hand. And for once, he didn’t think his intervention would help any.
“Do not abuse them so, Branwen the Awful,” Kachka said with a small smile. “It was your fault for trusting anything to weak males who cannot hold their watery ale.”
“Oy,” Uther drunkenly cut in. “We’ve won contests.”
“Contests with other weak males,” Kachka replied. “I am unimpressed.” She looked back at Branwen. “Being angry at them is like being angry at stubborn cow. Why bother? It will not move faster.”
“And that is why you need us,” Zoya said, her grin wide. “We will come with you and help you die with honor! Will that not be fun?”
“No,” Brannie said. “That will not be fun. I don’t plan to die. I plan to live a nice, long happy life destroying others!”
“Caswyn’s turning blue,” Aidan felt the need to interject.
“Good!”
Rolling his eyes, Aidan finally ordered, “Let him go.”
“No.”
“Branwen . . . let him go.”
She did. Right after she threw him into the corner, making sure his head slammed against the wall before he hit the floor.
Brannie faced him. “Happy?”
Laughing, Kachka motioned to the empty chairs. “Come. Sit. Let us discuss our plan.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Keita stated. “I can’t go to the Eastlands with a bunch of burly Riders coming along with us.”
Zoya looked Keita up and down before asking, “Who are you, tiny female?”
Aghast, Keita barked, “I am Princess Keita of the House of—”
Spitting on the floor, Zoya cut in, “Another decadent royal. Who cares?”
“Everyone. Everyone cares. Because I’m me. I’m Keita!”
Kachka leaned toward the other Riders. “She is one that gives my sister useless eye patch in many colors.”
“Those are fashion statements. So your sister doesn’t look like a bloody freak at family get-togethers. I’m trying to help her.”
“Yes, yes. Very helpful,” Kachka said with a dismissive wave. “Now, Branwen and Aidan, you two sit down. Let us talk about our plans.”
“Our plans?” Keita slammed her hands on the table. “They are my plans, peasant.”
“Your plans? To what? Give Empress festive gown for when the rest of us kill her?”
“Now, now, Kachka Shestakova,” Zoya interrupted. “Do not be so mean.” Reaching her long arm across the table, she patted an astounded Keita on the head with her giant hand. “I am sure you were very helpful, weak and useless female. And do not worry. We will tell everyone how helpful and pretty you are and everyone will believe our lies.”
Brannie quickly covered her mouth and looked down at the floor and Aidan forced himself to focus his gaze across the room on something else. Anything to stop the laughter.
But then Uther’s big head drunkenly hit the table on its own and that sad thud sound was all it took to have them leaning against each other as their laughter shook the entire pub.
* * *
Brannie started to drag a still-passed-out Uther up the pub stairs, but Zoya grabbed the dragon in human form and said, “I have him.”
Then she picked him up, placed him on her shoulder, and easily carried him up the stairs.
Even in his human form, Uther was excessively large. It usually took three or four human soldiers to carry him anywhere, and there was always complaining and grunting. But Zoya whistled happily.
Still, Brannie wasn’t surprised when Keita grabbed her arm and began whispering furiously in her ear.
Finally Brannie couldn’t take it and dragged her into her room.
“Stop!” she ordered. “I didn’t understand a word you just said and there was much spit.”
Disgusted, she took a cloth out of her boot and began to wipe her drenched ear.
“They can’t come with us,” Keita said. “They just can’t!”
“We tried to get them to go away. To go back to Garbhán Isle or at least go to the front, where I’m sure they would eventually die a hearty death. But you heard them. They’re determined. And when a Rider female is determined . . .”
Keita sat on the edge of Brannie’s bed and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes.
Brannie immediately sat down next to her and put her arm around her shoulders. “Gods, Keita. Are you crying?”
Keita dropped her hands to her lap, turned her head, and glared at Brannie for a long, long moment. “No.”
Brannie pulled her arm back. “No need for that tone, cousin.”
“The Empress won’t question that I’ve come to her court with armed guards. But she’ll definitely question that I’ve come there with armed guards and Riders.”
“There are only three. It’s not like you’re bringing a whole tribe with you.”
“It won’t matter when just one Rider can cause problems. We’ll have to get rid of them.”
Brannie blew out a breath and firmly stated, “You are not poisoning Celyn’s sister-by-mating. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Have you ever tried to poison a Daughter of the Steppes?” Keita asked. “It’s nearly impossible.”
“But you’ve tried.”
“Of course I’ve tried! Why do you ask such stupid questions when we’re desperate?”
Her bedroom door opened and Aidan walked in. “I’ve got Caswyn to bed,” he announced before dropping into a nearby chair. “And then I had to escort Zoya back to her room from Uther’s. I don’t know what she was planning but . . . I know I don’t want to think about it.”
Brannie chuckled but Keita was focused on her current issue.
Leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees, Keita asked Aidan, “What should we do about the Riders?”
“Well, poisoning is out. That never works on Daughters of the Steppes.”
“Again,” Brannie repeated, “killing the sister of my brother’s mate is not an acceptable suggestion.”
“I think we should bring them with us.”
Keita straightened. “You do? And how do we explain their presence to the Empress?”
Aidan shrugged and smiled. “Tell the truth. They attached themselves to us and we couldn’t get rid of them. The Eastlanders know all about our Riders and they have their own, led by some human named Batu . . . or something. They trade with them. Plus, your cousin is mated with Kachka’s sister. Her insisting on also protecting you because she doesn’t trust the males to do it is a story any monarch would believe about the Cadwaladrs and the Daughters of the Steppes.”
He yawned and used both hands to scratch his head. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have the backup of two raging warriors and a disturbingly evil witch.”
“She is evil, isn’t she?” Brannie asked. “It’s not just my imagination.”
“No. It’s not.”
Standing, Keita began to pace for a minute or two. Then she stopped, nodded her head. “You’re right, Aidan. This might work to our advantage. We’ll bring them.”
She smiled at them both, then left.
Brannie smirked at Aidan. “She actually thinks she had some say in that shit.”
“She’s a royal. Of course she thought she had some say.”
Now yawning herself, Brannie fell back on her bed. She was exhausted. Perhaps too exhausted to even take off her boots.
She felt the bed dip and looked to her right. Aidan had stretched out beside her.
“Before you complain about me being here . . . I need your protection.”
Brannie grinned. “From Zoya?”
“I’m the only one not too drunk to speak. And now that she’s been fed, I’m sure she has”—he shuddered—“other needs.”
“Doesn’t she have, I don’t know, ten thousand husbands?”
“Close.”
“Where’s the loyalty?”
“Apparently their husbands are supposed to understand that when they’re away from the tribe to do battle, they will get their needs met by others.”
Brannie snorted. “My mother never did that to me da and she was off in battle all the time.”
“They’re dragons. Completely different.”
“And they have hands!” When Aidan frowned at the statement, she added, “You know.” Then she moved her hand to just above her crotch and moved it around a bit.
When he understood, he laughed.
“Excellent point, Captain. They have hands.”
“And Elena better not do that to my brother.”
“The brother who you say is a big baby?”
“He is a big baby. That’s why I’m saying it. He couldn’t handle something like that. She’d break his heart. Even worse, my mother would snap her neck. As you know, she absolutely adores her baby boy.”
Aidan suddenly rolled onto his side, his mouth pressed against her chain mail–covered shoulder.
“Comfortable?” she asked.
“I’ll be more comfortable when this war is over and I can enjoy my bed in my cave.”
“You have a bed in your cave?”
“Don’t you?”
“I don’t have a cave.”
“You don’t have a cave?”
“Never had time to get one. I went from my father’s castle right into army training. And after that, I was always with my unit or with Izzy at Garbhán Isle or her house. I always had a place to stay.”
“Where do you keep all your things?”
“What things?”
“Your hoard.”
“Who needs a hoard? I have kin.”
“Must be nice,” he murmured, moving in closer.
“You have kin, too.”
“Horrible, horrible kin.”
Smiling, she could feel herself beginning to slowly doze off. “They are horrible. But you have them. And you like your youngest sister well enough.”
“I do.”
Brannie was seconds from falling asleep when she felt it. A kiss against her temple.
She immediately snapped awake.
Raising herself on her elbow so she could look down on Aidan, she snapped, “What was that?”
His gold eyes fluttered open and he yawned. “What was what?”
“That kiss you just gave me.”
“I guess it was . . . a kiss. But based on the way you’re staring at me, perhaps it was more a form of pure evil.”
Brannie sat up again. “Look, we’re friends, right?”
Aidan rolled to his back and propped himself up on both his elbows. “Are we?”
“Of course we are.”
“You hate me.”
“No, I do not hate you. I hate Caswyn. He killed Puddles.” She brushed her hair off her face. “Besides, if I hated you, the last thing I would have done was fuck you.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She glanced back at him. “We’re friends.”
“Friends that fuck.”
“Yes!” she replied, gleeful he understood. “Friends that fuck. Exactly.” She patted his knee. “And we should keep it like that.”
“As opposed to . . . what? Exactly.”
“As opposed to loving kisses as we snuggle.”
* * *
Aidan studied Brannie carefully. It wasn’t like he’d branded her with his Claiming mark. He hadn’t even realized he’d kissed her. He was half-asleep at the time.
But she was obviously serious. And greatly concerned. He just didn’t know why.
He had no intention of Claiming anyone. Possibly ever.
His parents’ mating hadn’t been anything that made him believe love was never-ending. He knew better.
But great sex? Now that was something worth indulging in as often as possible. And he’d only had a small taste of Branwen the Awful. He definitely wanted more, and was happy to give her what she wanted if it meant things could keep going as they were.
“Oh, right.” Aidan nodded. “No out-of-bounds kissing.”
“Exactly. We’re friends who fuck. Not Claimed mates.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“But we need to make sure that it’s clear at all times.”
“I already agreed to no out-of-bounds kissing.”
“You can’t keep that up,” Brannie argued, her hand gesturing around her face. “We both know I’m irresistible.”
“You and Keita really are blood relations, aren’t you?”
She jumped off the bed, began pacing. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for both of us. Because when this is all over, assuming we both survive, we’ll be going our separate ways. And I don’t want you sobbing over it.”
Insulted, “I don’t sob.” She gave him an exasperated glare, but he argued, “I don’t! I saw my own brother eyeless . . . didn’t sob then.”
“You hate your brother!”
“You’re right,” he easily admitted. “I do. But you met him—he’s a prat.”
She paced a little more before stopping and pointing at him. “I’ve got it. No sex as dragons.”
Aidan gazed at her. When she only gazed back, he finally asked, “What?”
“No sex as dragons,” she said proudly, as if she’d discovered something brilliant. “We only fuck as human.”
“And your reasoning?”
“I’m saving it.”
“Too late for your virginity then?”
She glowered. “I’m saving it for the dragon I Claim.”
“Actually, he’s supposed to Claim you.”
“Och! So old-fashioned. We’re in modern times now. I can Claim who I want. And when I do, he’ll get me as dragon. In my true form.”
“What if he’s human?”
“What?”
“It’s possible. Your best friend is human. Princess Morfyd mated with a human. Your male royal cousins all mated with humans. What if it turns out a human is your true love? Then you’ll never have sex as a dragoness again. That would be so sad.”
She dropped her hands on her hips, sucked air between her teeth before asking, “Do you or do you not want to keep this friends-fucking thing going?”
In answer, Aidan pushed himself off the bed and moved in front of her. He grabbed the bottom of her chain mail shirt and lifted it.
“Arms,” he ordered. She raised them and he pulled the shirt completely off.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping the friends-fucking thing going.” He untied the material that bound her breasts. “Is that all right with you?”
“You still need to agree.”
“Yes. I agree. No fucking as dragons. I totally understand it,” he added as he unwound the cloth from her body and tossed it on the shirt. “Like prostitutes that won’t kiss their clients.”
“Are you calling me a whore?”
Smoothing his hands down her waist, he stopped. “No. Do you want me to? I’ve known a few She-dragons who like that sort of—”
“No. I don’t want you to.”
“Oh. All right. But what about dirty . . . and naughty?”
“Yeah, that’s all right.”
Grinning, he leaned in and kissed her neck. He stopped briefly so Brannie could get his shirt off, then he was back. Kissing her neck, her shoulder.
He inhaled her scent before moving down to her breasts. He sucked on one nipple, then the other.
Brannie’s hand pressed against the top of his head and he happily took the hint, dropping to his knees before her. He gripped the top of her chain mail leggings and pulled them down. She lifted each leg as he tugged them off. He removed her boots last before pressing his face against her pussy.
He took another breath in, slipping his hands around her hips and gripping her ass. He pulled her in close and began to kiss her stomach, making his way down . . .
The door abruptly opened and Zoya Kolesova walked in, shocking them both. But when she saw Aidan on his knees, her smile dropped.
“Oh. You have Aidan.”
He pulled back a bit, clearing his throat. “Um . . . do you need something, Zoya?”
“Well . . .” She glanced at Brannie, then Aidan, then back to Brannie. “You will not be long with him, yes? I can be next?”
Brannie’s entire body got stiff and her hand took firm hold of the hair at the back of his head. She clearly had no intention of letting him go—which he truly appreciated!
Between clenched teeth, Brannie snarled, “Get. Out.”
Zoya pointed an accusing finger. “You Southlanders do not know how to share with others!”
“Kachka!” Brannie bellowed.
“Zoya Kolesova!” Kachka yelled from her room across the hall. “Whatever you are doing—stop it!”
“Selfish She-dragon,” Zoya snapped before storming out and slamming the door behind her.
Stunned, Aidan looked up at Brannie and asked, “Does she really think I have no say in any of this?”
“Penis-havers have no say. Those are her words, by the way, and she’s said them . . . often.”
“Well, don’t let the fact that I’m on my knees confuse you, Captain,” Aidan teased. “I’m in complete control.”
She grinned and shoved him to his back. “That won’t be for long.”