“Talan?”

Talan looked over his shoulder, his heart stuttering a bit in his chest. “Mum?”

She smiled and Talan bolted out of his chair and ran to his mother, sweeping her up in his arms and hugging her so very tightly that if it were anyone else, he’d fear he’d crush her.

But that was the thing about Annwyl the Bloody. She was so very strong. Amazingly so.

She kissed his face over and over between hugs. “My son. My handsome son. I was afraid I’d never see you again.”

Talan had never wanted to be away from his mother this long, but the Brotherhood had not allowed visits from or to any of his kin. He’d accepted that because he was getting what he wanted from the monks. But gods, how he’d missed his mother.

When he finally set his mother down, a still slow-moving Brigida came around the corner with Talan’s aunts and Izzy. Unlike his mother, it seemed that traveling through mystical doorways didn’t sit well with them. Even powerful Morfyd looked a tad pale.

Yet his mother . . .

Talan looked deep into her eyes and he saw it there. The rage. It tinged the irises of her eyes. Others called it his mother’s insanity, but that was too easy. His mother was far from crazy. Instead, she was a whirlwind of death and destruction. But a whirlwind that loved her kin and, especially, her children.

He hugged Annwyl again before going to his aunts and cousin. He was greeting Morfyd when he heard the squealing and knew that Rhi had walked in. She ran to her mother and sister, hugging them both as if her very life depended on it. That’s when the crying started.

Laughing and rolling his eyes, Talan turned to see his sister and mother staring at each other like two wary jungle cats.

Gods, the pair of them.

Talan walked over to his sister and shoved her into their mother’s arms.

At first, they both looked horribly uncomfortable, but then Annwyl wrapped her arms around her only daughter and held her so very tightly.

“It’s all right, Mum,” Talwyn soothed. “I’m fine. I promise.”

Brigida, who’d not bothered to watch any of the reunion but had continued to make her slow, painful way across the chamber, ordered, “Come on, you lot. There are much more important things to see.”

They followed after Brigida, the only sound in the caves Rhi, Izzy, and Talaith’s constant, uninterrupted chatter. The Kyvich that had accompanied Talwyn had gone off hunting and Magnus was asleep somewhere in one of the alcoves.

They walked up and up inside Brigida’s home until they reached an opening that led to a stone ledge.

Having already seen this, Talan, Talwyn, and Rhi stepped back so that their mothers, aunts, and Izzy could step out on the ledge and look down over the valley beneath them.

“What am I supposed to see?” Annwyl asked.

“I’ve been hiding them from prying eyes,” Brigida replied, “but the number just keeps growing.”

Dagmar frowned. “Them?”

Grinning that frightful grin, Brigida raised her walking stick and slowly swiped it through the air. As she did, like a curtain, the protective illusion was pulled back.

Annwyl took in a startled breath as she moved farther out on the ledge.

Brigida gestured to the thousands of dragon-human offspring who had set up camp in the valley, waiting for their orders while they trained in battle and weapon techniques.

“More have been showing up every day,” Talan explained. “Ready to fight. Ready for war.”

Brigida smiled and announced, “Welcome to your new army, Queen Annwyl.”