Dragon Actually

“Everyone knows you, father,” one of his sisters offered up. “And what they know isn’t good.”

His father, always jovial and smiling, looked suddenly angry. “So you’re saying . . .”

“That you’re an embarrassment? Yes.” Bercelak didn’t mean to be cruel, but he wondered if his time with Rhiannon wouldn’t have been a tad easier if his father hadn’t been known throughout Dark Plains as Ailean the Slag.

“I’m still your father, boy! So watch how you speak to me! It’s not my fault you can’t get the little bitch to submit. Perhaps if you were more like me, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

If it hadn’t been for his siblings grabbing hold of him, Bercelak would have torn the old bastard apart.

“Oh, I tried to kill him twice. Almost succeeded that one time.” Rhiannon watched as Bercelak’s sweet mother made a line across her throat with one finger. “Sliced his throat from here to here. But he shifted to dragon before I could finish. His scales prevented him from bleeding to death.”

Rhiannon glanced at Ghleanna, who looked bored and unimpressed. “Why . . . that’s a lovely tale, mistress.”

“No. It’s not. But it is to say that the males of this brood are not looking for shy, retiring mates. The more you fight my son, the more he wants you. After I cut Ailean’s throat, he Claimed me one moon later.”

“Do you . . .” Rhiannon looked away from Shalin’s steady gaze.

“Do I what?”

“Well . . . ever regret being with him?”

Shalin leaned back in her chair, a soft smile on her lips. “No. I’ve never regretted being with him and I can’t even imagine my life without him. I do, however, regret how hard his reputation is on our offspring.”

Ghleanna snorted as she stared out the window. “That’s a bit of an understatement.” She looked at Rhiannon. “Where my brothers have done well by our father’s reputation, his female offspring have not. I’ve beaten more than my fair share of dragons nearly to death who thought I was some kind of whore they could treat as they liked.”

“Now she sees no one.”

“I won’t be treated like trash, mother. I love my father . . . with all my heart, but there’s not a day that goes by that I forget I’m the daughter of Ailean the Wicked.”

“Your father has done the best for his offspring, Ghleanna. You included. Between you and me, you are one of his favorites. It would hurt him to know this was how you feel.”

“And it hurts me to be alone. And yet, we all must endure.”

If she’d not been chained to the spot, Rhiannon would have left mother and daughter to finish this discussion on their own. If for no other reason than that she felt a bit jealous. A very large bit jealous. Her arguments with her mother were nothing like these. If it hadn’t been for the protection of her father, Addiena probably would have killed her long ago. That was why every new moon she sent a prayer to the gods in honor of her father. Because he above all others loved her.

Now Shalin wanted her to believe that Bercelak loved her. Could he? Could anyone? She wasn’t exactly the easiest being to get along with.

Bercelak’s mother reached over and grasped her daughter’s hand. “We’re here for you, love. If you let me, I can help you,” she said to Ghleanna.

Ghleanna shook her head and looked out the window, but her grip tightened on her mother’s hand. But they were startled from their silent moment when the bedroom door opened and Bercelak entered.

Rhiannon stood up as soon as she saw his face. “Gods, what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled as he walked across the room. “Just a little discussion with my father.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t fight with him anymore,” his mother accused, standing up so she could get a closer look at her extremely tall son.

“I didn’t. I was arguing with someone else and he decided to end it.”

Rhiannon reached up and touched the black and blue mark around Bercelak’s eye. It startled him, and he turned to her so quickly she snatched her hand back and turned away from him.

“Um . . . we best be going,” Shalin said as she made a hasty retreat. “Come along, Ghleanna.”

Rhiannon heard mother and daughter leave and it took all her strength not to demand they stay.

“Rhiannon?”

“She’s very sweet, your mother.”

“I know.”

“She brought me food and wine. Made sure the collar wasn’t too tight.” Gods, she was babbling.

“Rhiannon—”

“Ghleanna can actually talk to her mother. That must be nice.”

“Rhiannon.” He turned her around to face him. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Avoiding me.”

“I’m not.” Yet she wouldn’t look him in the eye. Really . . . exactly how was she supposed to rule a kingdom?

Bercelak’s big hand gripped her chin and lifted her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. Her hand reached up and she gently ran her fingers over his wounded eye. He stared down at her in wary shock, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

Gods!

What had the bastard done to her?