About a Dragon

Briec glared at his kin. “You scared her off.”

“I scared her off?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Briec sniffed the air and followed her scent. Not surprisingly, Gwenvael followed right behind him. Nosy bastard.

“So where did you find her? She’s quite lovely.”

“At her village. And stay away from her.”

He had the nerve to sound affronted, when he said, “Why, brother. I would never—”

“Don’t bother. Fearghus already told me what you did with that mate of his.”

“I was only playing. Honestly, none of you have a sense of humor.”

“And from what I heard, neither did his mate. By the way, how is your neck? I heard she put a dagger to it.”

“It’s fine, thank you. And why don’t you ever use her name?”

“Don’t see a reason. She is of no consequence to me.”

Briec stopped walking and again sniffed the air. Gritting his fangs, he turned to Gwenvael and together they said, “Éibhear.”

* * *

Talaith glanced up as the silver and gold dragon stomped into the chamber. As soon as the silver saw her, his eyes narrowed, and she had the overwhelming desire to protect Éibhear.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Éibhear, who’d shifted back into human and graciously put on a pair of black breeches out of respect to Talaith, fairly ignored his brother as he tilted her head back a bit more to get at her wounded neck.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Don’t backtalk me. I asked you a question.”

“And I don’t see the need to answer it. As it is, I’m so angry at you right now, I don’t even want to see your face.”

“What are you talking about?”

Unable to stop herself, Talaith sucked her breath in between her teeth and cringed. Éibhear’s face softened as he looked at her.

“I’m sorry. This will only take a minute or so more.” By the gods…that voice! She nearly envied the woman who would wake up every morning to that voice greeting her. Of course, the silver dragon’s was nothing to sneer at. Only his made her think of dirty, dirty things.

“That’s all right. I’m fine.”

By sheer force of will, Talaith stood her ground while Éibhear gently smoothed on more cream. He said his sister, a fellow witch, had created it and that it would manage the pain of the rope burn on her neck. The blue dragon had been horrified when he realized his brother had not taken care of her wound. Of course, Talaith knew she would have never let the silver dragon get that close to her.

Plus it had completely “slipped” her mind that he’d asked her to remind him to care for her neck. The big bastard should have remembered without her reminding him.

All right, Talaith. Now you sound like a wife.

Éibhear motioned for her to lift up her hair as he moved around to get where the noose had dug into the skin behind the backs of her ears.

“Did you never think to treat this, big brother?”

By the startled look on the silver’s face, followed by the glare in Talaith’s direction, he remembered quite well their earlier conversation.

“She’d promised to remind me.”

“Remind you?” Éibhear stood behind her, but she heard the annoyance and outrage in his voice.

The gold leaned back on his haunches and shook his head. “How could you? You bastard.”

“Shut. Up.”

The gold glanced at her and winked. Cheeky idiot.

“Fine,” Éibhear went on. “I understand how that could slip your mind. But while I’m doing this,” he gently moved some of her stray hairs out of his way, “why don’t you introduce us, big brother?”

“Oh. Of course.” The silver cleared his throat, opened his giant maw to speak…but nothing came out.

Éibhear kept putting on the ointment, but the gold clearly expected his brother to introduce them properly. When he said nothing, the gold balked.

“Are you telling me you don’t know her name?” the gold demanded.

“Well, I, uh—”

Stepping away from her, Éibhear closed up the jar of ointment as she released her hair. Her eyes began to water from the pain and she wondered about the logic of allowing Éibhear to put that dragon-created junk on her human flesh. The dragon witch probably made it for something with scales.

Éibhear dropped the jar in a small bag he had with him. “He’s had her since yesterday.”

The gold’s eyes practically exploded from his head, then he burst out laughing.

Talaith said nothing as Éibhear pushed her hair off her face to examine a small scrape on her forehead. But she knew the silver didn’t appreciate the familiar move one damn bit. Good.

“It was an oversight,” her kidnapper gave by way of explanation.

Éibhear’s silver eyes locked on his brother. “I know her name. And I’ve known her about ten minutes.”

“I’m Gwenvael the Handsome,” the gold stopped laughing long enough to say. “At your service, m’lady.” He made a low, sweeping bow and the silver brought his tail down on the back of the gold’s head. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Accident,” the silver snapped. He turned back to Éibhear. “This is none of your concern, baby brother. I saved her, therefore she—”