Last Dragon Standing
“I’ll need to go there. See if I can find her.”
“How long has it been since you were there last?”
“Ages. Think Athol will mind?”
“Extremely doubtful. He was always quite fond of you.”
“That’s good. Because if my mother finds out about all this, I may have to hide in Castle Moor myself.”
“Will that be such a hardship, my lady?”
“At the moment…yes. Besides, you know I don’t like being trapped anywhere.” Keita rested her elbow on the table, her chin in her palm.
“What else, Keita?” he pushed. He knew she wasn’t telling him everything.
“There is the slightest chance…that Esyld’s lover is a Sovereign.” Gorlas’s heart plummeted. “Oh…Keita.”
“I know,” she sighed. “Because this all couldn’t just be bad, my dear friend. It had to be very bad!”
Keita had just turned a corner, heading toward the city gates, when Ren fell into step beside her.
“Well?” she asked, her mind turning.
“The Northlander was right about the necklace. Designed and created by Fucinus himself, most likely.”
Keita stopped walking and stamped her foot. “Fuck me!” she snarled.
A man walking by with his friends turned toward her and said, “Is that an offer, luv?”
Without taking her gaze off Ren, Keita reached out and grabbed hold of the man’s balls through his trousers. She let heat sear him while she said to Ren, “We have a problem.”
The man began to scream, but Keita didn’t even notice or care. She had more important things on her mind.
Ren slapped her hand off the man’s damaged groin and yanked her down the road until they were well away from the man and his friends.
“Must you take it out on some poor sod because—”
“Because I may have trusted a traitor?” she filled in for him. “And who else would I take it out on?” she asked. “Clearly not myself!” Ren stopped and released her. “I forgot who I’m dealing with. So what’s our problem?”
“Apparently Esyld has been coming into Southland territories for months.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Exactly. She’s been going to Castle Moor.”
The friends stared at each other a moment and then said in unison,
“Moor, Moor, Moor.”
They laughed until Keita said, “It’s not funny.”
“No, no. Not funny.” Ren rested his hands on his hips. “Although, it is Esyld…so that’s a little funny.”
“She was going to meet a lover.”
“Esyld had a lover? A Sovereign?”
“All Gorlas could tell me was that he wasn’t a local.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“We have to stop at Athol’s before we head home.” A shiny black brow peaked. “Do we really have time for that, Keita?”
“I can assure you, I only go there to get my questions answered. My orgy days have long been over.”
“Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.”
“I can give you lots of reasons why.” She took Ren’s arm in her own, and they slowly headed toward the city gates. “But honestly, my friend, orgies are simply too much work.”
Chapter Ten
Although Meinhard slept under a tree, he still knew what was going on around him at all times. It was a skill he’d been forced to develop since the first day his mother had placed him among his brothers, freshly hatched and vulnerable. More than two centuries later, he still had the skill. So he knew the moment his cousin returned even before he sent the Blue off to get them something for their dinner.
And by the time Meinhard sat up, yawning and scratching his belly, his cousin had told him something that, twenty minutes later, still sounded ridiculous.
“You’re telling us she’s f**king spies?”
“Yes.”
Meinhard simply didn’t understand his cousin. Here before him was a beautiful dragoness, ripe for the plucking, and this idiot was believing tales about Princess Keita and spies. Honestly, what was wrong with him?
Although, when Meinhard thought about it, it was enjoyable to see his cousin acting a little less cold and standoffish, and a little more like a true Northlander. Possessive, erratic, and dangerously unstable.
To clarify what Ragnar was telling them, Meinhard asked, “Yes, you know for a fact that she’s f**king spies? Or yes, you think she’s f**king spies because you’re being kind of a horse’s dick?”
“What exactly are you having trouble believing about her?” Ragnar demanded. “The spying or the f**king?”
Meinhard looked at Vigholf, and together they replied, “The spying.” Ragnar began rubbing his forehead, and Vigholf said, “Look, brother, we’re not saying the princess hasn’t bedded spies. If they were male, chances are she’s had her way with them. But giving them information?
About her time in the Northlands? About her mother? No. I don’t see that.” Ragnar got to his claws and began to pace. “What is this lofty pillar you two have her on?”
“We’re not as snobby as you,” Meinhard told him. “Don’t need proof of virginity for a female to be in my bed. Actually…I’d prefer she wasn’t.
That’s a lot of responsibility.”