“Fine then. You deal with him.”

“I need to be dealt with?” Vigholf asked softly, but Rhona bumped him with her hip to shut him up. Her mother just defended Rhona and her choice of mate to Bercelak. This was a monumental moment in her life and she wouldn’t have it ruined by gods-damn Lightnings!

“I got enough to deal with,” Bercelak was saying, “training these two.”

“Nice work on those swords and shields, Daddy,” Rhona said, smiling at him.

“They’re al right, I guess,” Bercelak muttered and nearly everyone cringed when Sulien’s eyes narrowed on his mate’s brother. “Heard you did some nice work on Annwyl’s weapon, though,” Bercelak said to Rhona, surprising her that he’d already heard.

“Of course she does nice work,” Bradana snapped. “What did you expect? My daughter has talent, she does.” And at that point they all turned to Bradana, gawking at her, Bradana’s offspring with their mouths open.

“What are you al looking at me like that for?”

“Wel —” Rhona began, but Vigholf covered her mouth with his hand.

“Let’s just enjoy this moment, shal we?”

Rhona nodded in agreement until he yanked her back, the smal sword Rhona’s father made, flipping end over end past her—aimed right for the head of the monarch walking up to the training ring.

But a steady hand caught it before it reached its destination. The newly promoted Izzy glaring at her young cousins. “Oy!” she snapped.

“Give me that!” Annwyl growled, snatching the sword out of Izzy’s hand and marching over. “No more training for you two! In the house!” The twins stood in the middle of that ring, staring at their mother. It had been five years. Rhona remembered wel the reaction of her siblings when their mother would return home from a battle, trying to order them around, and none of them responding until Rhona gave the signal. It seemed like it would be that kind of moment now until Rhona remembered this was Annwyl they were dealing with. Not Bradana.

The queen, seething that her children weren’t jumping at her commands, suddenly slammed her entire, wel -trained, muscular body into the sturdy and wel -built wood fence of the training ring. The wood splintered and she rammed into it again, destroying the section. She pushed the pieces out of her way, pointed at her children, and roared, “Get in the house! ”

Eyes wide, the twins took off. When they ran past her, Annwyl added, “And every time you use my head for target practice, you lose weapons privileges!”

Annwyl stalked after them, but she stopped long enough to add while pointing at the sword, “Nice work, by the way.” She said it to Sulien casual y, no longer angry. And that somehow made the whole thing . . . scarier.

Everyone wandered off after that, and Vigholf told her, “I find your kin unbelievably entertaining.”

“That’s good,” she said, “because they wil visit . . . often. And for long periods of time.”

“What’s long?” he asked her as she walked away from him. “A few days? A week? Perhaps we should start discussing what’s long and what’s too long . . . wait. Are you saying you’re coming back with me? Wel , that’s a rude gesture! It’s a valid question, female!” Vigholf grabbed Rhona around the waist and carried her into the closest stable.

“Great,” he muttered. “More horses.”

“Annwyl’s horse, Violence. Isn’t he cute?”

“No.” Vigholf turned Rhona to face him. “You need to give me a straight answer.”

“About what?”

“You are a cruel, heartless tease, Rhona the Fearless! Just tel me.”

“My sisters’ discussion over your breed-worthiness wasn’t a clue?”

“They’re not you, Rhona. I need to hear it from you. Tel me. Is this tail mine or not?”

“This tail belongs to me, Vigholf the Abhorrent.” She stepped closer to him, put her arms around his shoulders. “But my heart . . . my heart is yours from now until the end of time.”

Vigholf grinned, a weight he didn’t know had been there lifted from his shoulders. He kissed her then, holding her close.

“Oy!” The couple pul ed back and gawked at the horses. “Could you two do that somewhere else? We were here first.” They walked over to the empty stal beside Violence and leaned over the top.

Rhona shook her head in disgust. “Gwenvael!”

“What? I’m making up for lost time.”

“Lady Dagmar,” Vigholf said, giving her a wink as the poor woman tried to hide her naked body and embarrassed face under her mate.

“You,” Rhona told her cousin, “were appal ing as a hatchling and you’re worse now! Anyone could have walked in. We did!”

“Piss off!”

“I’m tel ing your mother!”

“Like always! Blabbermouth!”

Vigholf caught hold of Rhona’s hand and dragged her outside, closing the stable door.

“The stables?” Rhona asked, disgusted. “They’re doing it in the stables? Those poor horses!”

“And who knows what’s in that hay.”

“Eeeww.”

Laughing, Vigholf took Rhona’s hand in his own and dragged her away. “Come on. I’l find us a nice, clean place to f**k.”

“You know, that’s al I’ve ever asked!”