Last Dragon Standing
“All right then. Let’s talk.”
He walked up to her, took her hands in his. And blood and fire, he had big hands!
“Izzy?”
“Aye?”
He let out a breath. “You need to be careful.” Careful? Careful of what? His overwhelming love and adoration?
“I need to be careful about what?”
“Celyn.”
“Celyn? What about Celyn?”
“I know you don’t understand, that you think he’s just being friendly or a good cousin, but I think he wants more from you than that.” Izzy couldn’t believe it. He was still playing protective uncle. But she already had protective uncles! Plus a protective grandfather, protective great uncles, protective aunts and great aunts, and protective cousins! What she didn’t need, what she would never need again, was another goddamn protective anything!
Izzy pulled her hands away. “You’re an idiot.” Éibhear stepped away from her. “What?”
“I said you are an idiot.”
“I’m trying to watch out for you.”
“I don’t need you watching out for me. You haven’t watched out for me for two years now and look.” She held her arms out from her body. “I’m still here. In one piece. I will tell you this, though.” She slammed her finger into his chest. “Celyn has watched my back in battle.” She slammed her finger again. “Celyn has helped me wash blood out of my hair.” Another slam. “Celyn also tore the arms off a bloke who thought it would be funny to jump me when I was out alone on night patrol.” Another slam that had Éibhear backing up into the door. “So if you don’t mind, I think I’ll keep Celyn as a friend since he’s been there when you have not!”
“I was trying to warn you!”
“You can stick your warnings up your ass!” She shoved him aside and yanked the door open. “Now get the f**k out of my room.” Éibhear stomped into the hall, but he spun around to face her. “Izzy—”
She slammed the door in his face and tore the stupid, too small dress off her body, chucking it across the room.
He had to be the most infuriating dragon she’d ever met, and it galled her that she might be trapped loving him forever!
“Are they having an execution?” Vigholf asked, watching as the Southlanders began to move tables out of the way to open up the floor.
“They don’t do that sort of thing during dinner,” Meinhard stated, then added, “The humans don’t, anyway.”
“But we’ve already finished eating.” Vigholf kept his hand on his sword. “Maybe we should leave?”
Ragnar had kept it from them as long as he could, but now he had no choice but to speak the truth. “We can’t leave.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re invited. It would look poorly if we leave.”
“Invited? For what?”
Ragnar took a breath to explain it all to his kin, but the musicians began to play and the Ruiner slid to a stop on his knees, facing the front of the hall. He was such an odd dragon. “Sister!” he called out.
“Brother!” Keita, looking dazzling in a light blue gown, her dark red hair threaded with light blue flowers, ran barefoot up to her brother.
“Dance with me,” he ordered. “My mate refuses.” Keita gasped. “Is she mad? Does she know who she turns down?” She placed her hand into her brother’s. “When will she ever get a chance to dance with someone as beautiful and amazing as you?”
“That’s what I keep telling her!” Gwenvael got to his feet and spun his sister out into the middle of the floor. “But she never listens.”
“You bastard!” Vigholf growled at Ragnar through clenched teeth.
“I’m leaving,” Meinhard said.
“Neither of you are going anywhere.” To be honest, he didn’t want to be left alone. “If I’m sticking it out, you are as well.”
“We don’t have to.” Vigholf glared at him. “We’re not the ones f**king a royal.”
His brother and cousin had heard the rumors started by Keita. If they’d brought it up to him earlier in the day, he would have told them honestly—knowing they could be trusted—that it was all a lie. He couldn’t really say that now, though, could he?
“You still follow my command, brother. And you will stay or I’ll—” The argument ended abruptly as the three males were approached by two females. Two young females. A little too young for them, in fact.
“Lady Iseabail,” Ragnar said.
She smiled. “Just call me Izzy.”
“And I’m just Branwen.”
“Can we help you with something?”
“My cousin and I were wondering if you’d like to dance with—”
“No,” all three Lightnings answered in unison.
“Well, you don’t all have to bark at me.” The Blue walked up to them, scowling down at Izzy. She didn’t even look at him. It seemed Izzy was the only female in Dark Plains who didn’t feel the need to throw herself into the arms of the big bastard.
“We need to talk,” the Blue said.
“Again? Haven’t I been tortured enough this evening?”
“You took what I said wrong, and throwing food at my head during dinner just shows you haven’t matured much at all.”