Rhi and Talan exploded into laughter, but they also quickly turned away from Talwyn’s withering glare.

Talwyn swung back toward her young cousin, her roar shaking the castle walls.

The little girl squealed at whatever she saw in her cousin’s face or heard in that terrifying roar and disappeared in a flash of smoke.

Grinning, Gwenvael leaned forward and kissed Talwyn on the forehead. “Welcome home, little niece.”

Gaius stood beside the queen, both gazing down at one of the world maps she had spread across the thick wood table, in deep discussion about who might or might not be aligning themselves—and their armies—with Duke Salebiri.

He was just leaning over, pointing out a little-known kingdom behind Salebiri’s territory, when the door was thrown open.

Annwyl’s hand was on her sword before Gaius could blink—he hadn’t realized exactly how fast she was, especially for a human—but she quickly relaxed when she saw her mate standing there.

“Oh. Fearghus,” she said, before refocusing her attention on the map.

The black dragon’s dark eyes locked on Gaius, and that’s when Gaius noticed Fearghus’s two idiot brothers standing behind him.

Instigators.

True, it had only been Gaius and his sister when he was growing up, and they’d worked with each other, not against. But he’d had enough cousins who’d wanted him dead or, at the very least, truly annoyed, to immediately know what was going on here.

He could have been the bigger dragon. His sister would expect that of him. She was very big on etiquette, his Aggie, which explained why she was so annoyed by Annwyl and her queendom. Annwyl the Bloody had absolutely no etiquette outside the battlefield. She’d be the first to rattle off the rules of war. No killing of the innocent. No rape. No unnecessary destruction. How she had gone on and on before their first and only battle against his Uncle Thracius. But etiquette here? In her home? That was more limited and, to Gaius’s secret delight, much more flexible.

So he leaned into her a bit—she didn’t even notice, so focused on the map in front of her—placing his arm on the other side of her so that he had her caged in next to him.

The black dragon’s head lowered, a fang flashed, and smoke eased from his nostrils while, behind him, his brothers grinned. Even the cranky Silver who never seemed to smile about anything except his daughters.

“Annwyl!” the dragon snapped and, again, Annwyl moved so very fast, pulling her swords from the sheaths strapped to her back and assuming a combat-ready pose before Gaius had a chance to take his next breath.

“What?” she demanded, eyes searching the room. “What is it?”

With his brothers watching him, the Black searched for a response. “Uh . . .” He found one. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Introduce you? To who?”

The prince’s eyes narrowed and he gestured at Gaius. Annwyl glanced back and shrugged. “Don’t you already know him? We took down Overlord Thracius together and he’s stayed here several times.” She blinked, glanced down at the floor, then asked Gaius, “Right?”

Gaius nodded. “Right.”

“Oh, good. Thought I was confusing you with someone else.”

“No, no. That was me,” Gaius replied before gently putting an arm around her shoulders. So very casual. So very comfortable. He could never explain how he knew he had nothing to fear. At least nothing from Annwyl. Perhaps because when it came to off-the-battlefield etiquette, she truly didn’t care. They had an enemy to squelch and as long as Gaius wasn’t grabbing a breast, Annwyl just didn’t notice. Already she’d let her gaze drift back to the map, in search of more information on the kingdom Gaius had just mentioned to her.

But the black dragon prince . . . ? Ah, that was another story altogether.

It was as if he planned to shift right there, in the middle of the human castle, into his full dragon form just so he could tear Gaius limb from limb. But before he did any of that, Prince Gwenvael’s head was snatched back, his yelp startling his silver-haired brother beside him.

“What was that for?” Gwenvael whined seconds before Dagmar Reinholdt marched into the room.

“King Gaius,” she greeted, “I wanted to make sure you had everything you need.”

“I’m more than . . . satisfied, my lady.”

Gwenvael and Briec snorted at that, but before Fearghus could direct his anger at them, The Beast did. She locked eyes with both—such cold eyes behind boring round pieces of glass—and pointed.

“Go,” she ordered.

“But—”

“Now.”

Gwenvael immediately skulked off, but Briec attempted to resist.

“I don’t take orders from—” he began and Dagmar’s cold eyes narrowed behind those pieces of glass and her head tilted to the side. It was a small gesture, but apparently enough for the arrogant bastard.

Throwing his hands up, he said, “No need to get hysterical.” Then he, too, was gone.

“Now,” she said, turning to Gaius and Annwyl, “what are we discussing?” With a casual air and extremely gentle hands, she grabbed Gaius’s forefinger and removed his arm from Annwyl’s shoulders. Then she stepped between them and stared at the map as well.

With a snarl, Fearghus turned on his heel and left.

While Annwyl leaned in to study the map, amazingly oblivious to everything going on around her, Dagmar gently whispered, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Gaius asked.

She briefly glared at him. “You know what. And I can only protect you from that one for so long. He’s not like his brothers. He’s much smarter and meaner than they are.” She jerked her head toward Annwyl—who was still oblivious. “That’s why he likes her so much. They’re mean together.”

“But the males of that clan make it so easy.”

Dagmar sighed. “Don’t you think I already know that?”

Chapter Eleven

Kachka sat on the front steps that led into the Great Hall and watched her sister speak with her husband, Celyn.

Her walking out on him with his cock still hard and unsatisfied seemed to have been forgotten and now they talked softly to each other, Elina grinning at some joke he’d made.

Something large dropped down next to Kachka on the stairs and she glanced over to see the Rebel King casually sitting beside her.

“It’s too easy, you know,” he said.

“What is?”

“Toying with the Southlander dragons. At least the males. It’s simply too easy.”

“I have noticed that as well. Like cat toying with mouse.”

“Exactly.”

Kachka motioned to her sister across the courtyard. “She seems happy, yes?”

The king studied Elina for a moment, then nodded. “Very.”

“Good. I always wanted her to be happy. She never was, you know? When she lived with our tribe.”

“It was my understanding your mother didn’t make it easy for either of you.”

“Glebovicha Shestakova made it easy for no one. Though she tolerated me well enough.”

“Because you’re not afraid to kill.”

“Do not be fooled. Elina is not afraid to kill. But she is just more . . . defense fighter. When you come at her, she will do what she has to in order to survive. But me . . .” She smiled at the dragon. “I am offensive. I need little reason to do what I feel is necessary.”