“So what does al that mean?”

“It means she’s amazing—and terrifying. Annwyl kil s without question, rules with an iron fist, and has little patience for anyone. She can be cruel, she can be loving, she can be heartless, and she can care too much. She is blindingly loyal, but demands the same loyalty from everyone and is devastated when she doesn’t receive it. I can’t explain Annwyl, Vigholf, so I never try.”

“I guess then we’l leave it at that.”

Appearing relieved, she turned her gaze up to the sky. “Are those clouds?”

Vigholf shrugged, studying every part of her, not caring about the sky or clouds. “No clue.” She looked at him. “That’s probably because you’re staring at me and not up there—you know . . . where the clouds actual y are.”

“I like staring at what I’m staring at.”

“Yeah, right.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. We need to get some sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

“Al right.”

Rhona got to her feet and went over to her bedrol . By the time she’d settled down, Vigholf was stretched out right beside her.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you my warmth.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

“And yet I’m giving it to you because that’s how wonderful I am.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Ssssh. You’l wake the horses.”

Rhona shook her head and settled down. “You just never give up, do you?”

No. He didn’t. But when Vigholf put his arm around her waist—she didn’t complain either.

Chapter 17

It was the lightning that woke Rhona up the fol owing morning. Not the Lightning, but actual lightning. The stuff Vigholf ’s kind was made of, the way she was born of fire. And because of that lightning, she wasn’t exactly surprised to find herself no longer entangled with the Northlander. She’d discovered after their two nights together that Vigholf was one of those dragons who liked to wrap himself around a female like a vine. She’d punched and kicked her way out of several situations like that in the past, but it hadn’t bothered her so much with Vigholf. Perhaps because he wasn’t also a twitcher.

Rhona dragged herself up and ran her fingers through her hair. Thunder rol ed from the skies and big bolts of lightning cut across the land.

Lightning that seemed to be getting dangerously close.

“Should I even be sitting next to you?” she asked.

“The lightning wil pass. Just give it a few minutes.”

She studied the dragon. “You look rather . . . concerned.”

“Not concerned. Tense.” He looked at her. “Have you ever been hit by lightning?”

“Only during battle.”

“Wel , we tend to attract lightning, seeing as we’re made of the stuff—and it can sting like hel depending on where it strikes.”

“Interesting. I can walk through fire with absolutely no problems.”

“Don’t brag. It annoys me.”

She relaxed her back against the tree, her shoulder pressed into Vigholf’s.

“Sure you want to get so close?” he asked.

“If I had a problem with it, I would have said something last night.”

His chuckle was low and soft, and Rhona added, “I can handle lightning.” She raised her knees, resting her chin on them, and wrapped her arms around her legs. She peered out over the field. “Besides, I like watching it. The way it skitters and flashes. You never know where it’s going to hit or how big or long it wil be. I find it kind of... fascinating. And pretty.”

“Do you find me fascinating and pretty too?”

“No.”

Vigholf’s laugh was louder this time.

“Oh,” Rhona said, wincing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot about the horses. They’re probably long gone.”

“No, they’re at the foot of the hil over there, where the cave is. They’l probably stay in there until the lightning passes.” Rhona looked at him. “I bet it’s warmer in there than it is out here.”

“Probably.”

She stared at him some more until he blinked and said, “Oh! Do you want to go in there?”

“You mean rather than sitting under a tree during a lightning storm? That might make sense.” He shrugged, gave a smal , embarrassed smile. “I didn’t want to wake you up unless I had to.”

“A tree I’m under, destroyed by lightning would have definitely woken me up.”

“You use that tone with your siblings . . . and Éibhear.”

“It’s my ‘don’t be an idiot’ tone.” Rhona got to her feet, picked up her weapons and travel pack. “Come on, Northlander. Let’s see if you can beat what you’re made of.”

Vigholf didn’t beat what he’d been made of. In fact, he was struck at least three times, but thankful y it was mostly on his shoulders and arms. The worst was the head, neck, and ass. A Northland dragon couldn’t help but screech a little when hit in the ass with lightning. Although Vigholf always felt invigorated after getting hit with a few bolts of lightning, the effect often lasting for days.

They ran into the cave, now both of them drenched since the skies decided to open up once they were clear of that tree.

“That was exhilarating, eh?” Rhona asked him.