She took a deep breath, and Talaith could see how hard it was for this woman to keep her anger under control. A battle written all over her bruised and damaged face.

“No. I’ll not waste my time on the likes of you,” she sneered. Slowly standing, she left her foot on his chest while tossing one of the swords she held into the lake. “A true and honorable warrior loses his head in battle and goes home to his ancestors with pride. But that won’t be for you. I curse you, scum. I curse you and your brethren to the never-ending pits of despair and suffering where you’ll spend your eternity.”

Two hands clasping the hilt, she raised her sword above the man’s chest. “I do wish you luck, though,” she uttered, almost kindly. Then that rage returned, so fierce it nearly stole Talaith’s breath. “For you will surely need it.”

With that, she brought the sword down, it seemed, with all the force she could possibly muster. The blade slammed through the man’s chest, tearing through cheap armor, and hard bone until it embedded itself in the rocky ground beneath. The man’s screams made Talaith wince, but she couldn’t look away, even as the woman twisted the blade this way and that to quicken his death.

He made another gasp, blood pouring from his open mouth, then went silent.

The woman stood, leaving the blade in his chest. She examined herself.

“I swear. I clean off one coat of blood, only to have it replaced by another. I wonder why I bathe at all while on campaign.”

“Because you don’t want to wake to find a pack of wolves licking blood off you…again,” the witch offered sweetly.

Grimacing, “I thought we swore never to speak of that.”

With a laugh, the witch replied, “I don’t remember that agreement at all.”

“Callous cow.”

And that’s when they all turned to Talaith.

Uh-oh.

How she could actually find this woman more frightening than the three dragons she’d stayed with for days, she’d never know. But now that her Magick was back, her sense of this woman’s barely contained rage was almost palpable. It slid under her skin like a living thing.

“You all right?” It took Talaith a moment to realize the warrior woman had spoken to her.

“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Yes. Thank you.”

The woman’s cold green eyes examined Talaith from feet to head as she held her hand out and one of the warriors handed her two swords in their scabbards. Walking calmly toward Talaith, she tied them to her back.

“Thank you for warning us.”

Never before had Talaith had such an overwhelming desire to run. This was not like the dragonfear. This was much worse. “You’re welcome.”

Standing before her, the woman bent her neck to the side. Talaith winced as she heard every bone in the woman’s neck and shoulder crack into place. Ack!

“Your name?”

Answer her, you idiot. “Talaith.”

The woman nodded. “I am Annwyl.”

Without thinking, Talaith stumbled back from her. “The Blood Queen?”

Blinking, the woman looked startled, then…well…then she looked hurt.

“Oh, shit,” the witch mumbled beside her. Then she and the good-looking warrior passed annoyed glances.

“Is that what they call me?” Annwyl threw her hands up. “That is so unfair!”

The witch shook her head, “Annwyl…”

“I work hard to protect the land—”

“Annwyl.”

“—to keep them all safe—”

“Annwyl.”

“—and this is how they repay me?”

“Annwyl!”

“What?”

“Let it go. We need to get back. Or do you wish to keep your mate waiting any longer?”

Good God. This big bitch has a mate? That had to be one brave man.

Annwyl growled. Literally. Then turned on her heel. “Fine.” She looked over her shoulder at Talaith. “But don’t call me that again.”

“Uh…” Talaith glanced around at the other warriors and realized they were working hard not to laugh. Some had to turn away. “Of course, my, uh, queen.”

She saw the men wince as Annwyl stopped in her tracks. Without bothering to turn around, she barked, “Don’t call me that either.”

“My liege?”

“Not even close.”

Talaith had grown tired of this big bitch barking at her like she were a small child and, as usual, Talaith’s mouth ran much faster than her sense. “Is there anything I should call you? Or should I just grunt and point in your direction?”

When the men and witch all stared at her, she had a feeling she might have gone too far—again.

Slowly, Annwyl turned back to her. Talaith had a feeling very few people said much to the Blood Queen of Garbhán Isle.

But, instead of taking her head or cursing her to those nasty pits she seemed so fond of sending people to, the queen smiled. A really sweet smile, taking Talaith completely by surprise. “I think Annwyl will do, don’t you?”

“Uh…” Talaith shrugged “Yes?”

Her smile broadened. “Yes. And you best come with us.”

“What? Why?” Well that was definitely not the right response, but Annwyl—nor Arzhela—appeared to notice.

“Annwyl,” the witch murmured. “I’m sure that Talaith has somewhere else to—”