The Dragon Who Loved Me

Despite their size the twins were fast. Yet she thankful y had longer legs. She neared them, her arms almost around them when horses charged their way, the riders aiming their bows at them, arrows nocked.

Rhona shifted, gripping her weapon in her claw and immediately lifting herself up so she didn’t crush the children in the process. But before she could release her flame or use her spear to stop the riders, Talan dropped to his knees but continued sliding forward. Using his sword, he cut the tendon of the first horse he passed. The horse screamed, his damaged leg buckling, his rider flipping off. The rider’s neck snapped on impact and Talwyn ran up and onto his bent body. She used the momentum of her run and the extra height from the corpse to launch herself at another rider.

The blade of her sword slammed high into the rider’s leg, the rider screaming as she used both hands to yank the blade down his calf.

Not knowing what else to do, Rhona caught hold of both children and took to the skies. The girl yel ed and punched at her claw, trying to get loose while her brother did nothing but patiently wait until Rhona landed in the courtyard. Of course that’s when he slammed his sword into a spot between her talons.

“Aaargh! You vicious little—”

“Talwyn! Talan!” Talaith tore down the courtyard steps, her beautiful face streaked with tears. “Where is she?” the witch demanded. “Where’s Rhian?”

“Here.” Vigholf landed beside Rhona, careful y handing over the child to her mother. “She saved our lives, my lady. Thank you.” Talaith nodded, holding Rhian tight to her. “Don’t you ever do that again,” she told her daughter. “Never sneak out again.” Fierce brown eyes locked on the twins. “And you two . . . get your asses in that castle. Now! ” The twins charged up the stairs and came face-to-face with their livid nanny. She picked them up and went back inside.

“Go, Talaith,” Rhona ordered the witch. “We’l take it from here.”

With a brief glance at Vigholf, they both flew up and landed on the castle gates.

“It seems your cousin was right,” the Lightning admitted, gazing down at the number of Tribesmen riders charging and surrounding the castle gates.

Rhona, her new spear clenched in her claw, nodded. “She was.”

The Kyvich rode out of the gates on their horned steeds, their bloodthirsty dogs by their sides. The first sound of clashing weapons rang out.

Smiling a little, Rhona asked Vigholf, “Stil mind having a female fighting by your side, Northlander?”

“Not when it’s you, Southlander.” He grinned at her. “Not when it’s you.”

Dagmar sent the commanding castle guards out to their troops with the warning, “Whatever you do, don’t get in the way of the Kyvich.” She headed back into the castle, her faithful dog Canute by her side and the stray puppy she’d recently found right behind Canute. Running soldiers moved out of her way as she quickly came down the hal way, stopping when she reached the Great Hal . Several of the Kyvich surrounded Talaith and Ebba, escorting them to a safe place that had been built beneath the castle wal s. Dagmar didn’t try to stop them, but was glad to see they were al right.

Thinking of nothing more than getting as many as possible through this alive, Dagmar coldly examined everything. And that’s when she saw the Dragon Queen walk down the stairs and out the Great Hal doors. Dagmar hadn’t even realized the queen had stayed last night. The discussion over what should be done about Annwyl’s disappearance had lasted late into the evening, but usual y the queen would return to her Devenal t Mountain home at any hour. Yet she didn’t last night. She’d stayed.

Normal y Dagmar wouldn’t worry about it, but she couldn’t ignore it this time. So Dagmar fol owed Rhiannon.

Rhona swooped down on the advancing troops, unleashing a line of flame while she dodged arrows, axes, and more spears. As always when she flew into battle, Rhona was more pissed off at being attacked than she was afraid. It gave her an edge she normal y didn’t have in her day-today life.

She picked up horses and their riders and threw them into their own troops. Lashed her tail from side to side, sending the Tribesmen behind her flying and flipping through the air and across the ground. While her tail handled what was behind her, she used her spear to decimate what was in front. Tribesmen rode at her from al sides, using only their knees to stay seated while their hands were busy inundating her with arrows. Many struck home, imbedding past scales, but she ignored the pain as she always had, as she’d always been taught, and kept up her onslaught.

But she wasn’t alone. She had her kin striking from the air, sending down wave after wave of flame, burning human flesh from bone. The Lightning nearby battered and crushed and hacked with that hammer and ax of his. And the infamous Kyvich unleashed something. She thought they were those unholy horned dogs of theirs. They weren’t. They were men. Or what were once men, but were now no more than slavering beasts, broken by the heartless females they’d once chal enged.

Younger witches clad—barely—in animal skins and bits and pieces of armor ran out to meet their enemy, combining weaponry and Magick to create a nightmarish whirl of blood and death. Tribesmen torn apart by nothing more than air, skin peeled from flesh by trees come alive. Some Tribesmen dragged underground, screaming al the way, by hands appearing from the earth beneath their feet.

Not wil ing to watch any more of that, Rhona focused on the enemies closer to the forests.