A Tale Of Two Dragons (dragon kin) Read online

  Crystin sighed, shook her head, while Aledwen turned away.

  “What?” Braith asked.

  Crystin shrugged. “I never wrote you a letter, Braith.”

  “It was your dragon script, Crystin. I know it.”

  “I never wrote it.”

  Tragically, Braith wouldn’t put it past her father to have someone copy Crystin’s style of dragon script, but that didn’t explain anything else.

  “Whether you wrote the letter or not, you never came to see me after Mum’s death. You never . . .” She choked back tears threatening to come. “You never came for the Ritual of Ashes. You never came just to see me.”

  “You’re right. We didn’t. We stayed as far away from you as we possibly could. Didn’t even come to Devenallt Mountain when invited, took the role of protectors of our borders when necessary. You’re absolutely right. We did all that.”

  “Well,” Braith said, knowing she sounded bitter but unable to help it, “glad we got that cleared up.”

  She turned, ready to go back to Addolgar’s side, when Aledwen suddenly blurted out, “He threatened to kill you.”

  Braith stopped. “What?” she asked, without looking at either aunt.

  “He threatened to kill you.”

  “Eventually,” Crystin added. “First, he threatened to take your title and any fortune our sister left you. But he quickly realized that threat held no meaning to a Penarddun. But then he said if we made any attempt to contact you again, he’d have you killed. He knew poisoners. ‘The best in the land,’ he said. That he could do it, even while you were safe here. And that, child, was when we believed him.”

  Braith slowly faced her aunts, studied their faces, and quickly saw the truth in their eyes.

  “To be honest,” Crystin went on, “we thought you’d come to us. So we waited rather than risk your life. But we should have known your father had found a way around that as well.”

  “But why?” Braith asked. “He has no use for me. No love. Why would he care if I was here with you or alone in my cave?”

  “The Penardduns are matriarchal, child. His first threat didn’t work with us because anything and everything your mother had, including title, was passed down to you. I honestly think that at first, he was just being his usual, vindictive self when he kept you from us.”

  “We used to openly mock his weak arms and that tiny little neck of his,” Aledwen said, grinning. “He hated that.”

  “But once he understood the true power of our line, he understood that without you, Emyr and his idiot sons risked losing all of their standing among those court royals who actually give an ox’s shit about all that as well as your mother’s fortune—and that he would not stand for.”

  “But he wouldn’t have lost his Elder status.”

  “Do you really think your father cares about being an Elder?” Crystin asked.

  Aledwen gave a hard laugh. “Do you think he would have even gotten that had it not been for your mother?”

  “Emyr has always had much bigger goals than to be a mere Elder.”

  “Like taking the throne?” Braith asked.

  “Well—” Aledwen began, but Crystin held up her claw, her gaze on Braith.

  “Gods, child,” Crystin said with a sigh. “What has that ridiculous asshole done now?”

  * * *

  Addolgar opened his eyes and smiled into the face staring down at him. “Braith . . . you’ve aged beautifully.”

  Old Braith grinned. “Thank you. But I’m Braith’s aunt. Remember? Owena?”

  “Oh. Right. You fucked me dad.”

  “Aw, dear.” Owena patted his shoulder. “Everyone’s fucked your dad.”

  “I know. He’s quite proud of that. Am I going to die, Lady Owena?”

  “Just Owena. And no. You’ve got your father’s constitution and your mother’s will to live. Because how that She-dragon survived her time as bitch Addiena’s companion, we have yet to figure out.”

  “Now, now. That’s treasonous talk.”

  “I like to live on the edge.” She winked at him while wiping blood from her hands with a big cloth. That’s when Addolgar realized he was in his human form.

  “Hey. I’m naked!”

  Owena laughed. “You are. And I realize that my sister was right. How like your father you are, sweet Addolgar.” She leaned in and whispered, “I see why our little Braith likes you.”

  “Does she?”

  “Can’t you tell?”

  “I’m male. I have no idea what you females are thinking.”

  Owena laughed again and said, “I’ll get her. She can show you herself.”

  Owena turned to go, but Addolgar caught her arm, gently held it. “She didn’t think she was welcome here.”

  “She was wrong. We never turn a Penarddun female away. Ever. But her father had other plans.”

  “Does she understand that?”

  “She’s learning. It’ll take time. He . . . he made sure she felt completely alone.”

  “She’s not alone,” he said simply. “She has me.”

  Owena smiled, and gods, he saw Braith in that smile. “We’ll make sure she learns that too.”

  “Well, don’t be too pushy. You don’t want to put her off me. But feel free to put in a good word.”

  Laughing again, Owena patted his shoulder and walked out of the chamber. But Addolgar didn’t know what was so funny. He really wanted her to put in a good word for him.

  Braith looked up as Owena walked into the chamber. They’d all eventually shifted to human so they could help with Addolgar since Owena said it would be quicker for Addolgar to heal that way.

  “Should I assume from that smile he’s going to be all right?” Braith asked, needing to hear something good.

  “He’ll be fine,” Owena said on a laugh. “That boy is . . . entertaining to say the least.” She dropped into a chair catty-corner from Braith, wiped her brow, and let out a long breath. “I hate artery work. Do the wrong thing and you could have the one you’re trying to save bleeding out all over you.”

  “I’m so glad that didn’t happen.”

  “Me, too. I’ve heard it’s quite a mess when it does.” Owena looked around. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “Went to town to get food and wine.”

  “Ahhh. To celebrate your return to the Penarddun fold.”

  “Have I returned?”

  “Are you asking me because you’re subtly telling me you’re not? Or because you’re seriously not sure?”

  “Well, I’m not subtle.”

  Owena chuckled. “Nor was your mum.”

  “Why was she with him?” Braith asked.

  “With your father?” Owena thought a moment. “Because she wanted you.”

  “She could have had me with anyone.”

  “Not every She-dragon finds a mate because not every She-dragon wants one. Your mother never wanted one. She liked fighting and she liked us. That was it. But she wanted you. She had you named when she was still a hatchling. But she needed a male to make that happen. The problem was finding a male willing to have an offspring outside of mating. When she couldn’t, she turned to someone who wanted anything but his mate’s love. Then she had a son . . . so she tried again. She had another son, so she tried again. Then she had you and she had what she wanted.”

  “And my father had what he wanted.”

  “Sons and a title.” Owena rolled her eyes. “I always hated your father. Scum on a dying pond has more integrity than your father.”

  “Doesn’t that lack of integrity taint me? Being his daughter?”

  “You’re not his daughter,” Owena snapped, one finger pointing at her. “You’re your mum’s daughter. You’re a Penarddun. Just like your mother and your mother’s mother and her mother’s mother. Going back a millennium. Your father was nothing more than a means to a very important end.

  “But,” Owena went on, leaning back in the chair, “it seems his time is over.”

  “He’s betrayed
the Queen.”

  “No. He betrayed Addiena. That’s a fool’s game.” Owena studied her. “And she sent you to catch him?”

  “It was either him or me.” She glanced over at the chamber where Addolgar recovered. “If it wasn’t for Addolgar and the Cadwaladr Clan, the Queen’s Guard would be tossing my head off Devenallt Mountain as we speak.” Braith ran her hands through her hair. “Is it true?” she asked. “Did my father really threaten to—”

  “You know it’s true, Braith.”

  “Do I?”

  Owena leaned in. “You know. Penardduns don’t lie. We hit. And we hit because we know we’re stronger than most males. In fact, we’re so strong it’s hard for us to find males willing to put up with us. But you know, as a female, that if we could have, if we thought for a minute that your father wouldn’t carry through with his vile threat—we would have come for you. We would have been there to lay your mum to rest. To perform all the rituals she was due. We never would have let you face that alone. Not the daughter of our dear sister. And definitely not a female of our line.”

  Braith finally had to ask, “What about the males of our line?”

  Owena shrugged, flipped her hand casually. “We care for them. Love them. I have two of my own.” Her flitting hand swept the air. “They’re around somewhere. And I love them.” Her lips pursed a bit, and Braith felt her heart tighten when she recognized the gesture as one her mother had often made. “They are a bit stupid, though.”

  The pain around Braith’s heart lessened when she had to laugh. “Aunt Owena.”

  “They can’t help it, you know. It happens in the egg,” she reasoned. “As soon as they grow that genitalia, intelligence goes right out the window and we’re left with this thing that just wants to stick it in any hole.”

  “Aunt Owena!”

  “Oh, tell me I’m wrong!”

  “Well,” Braith admitted, “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “Of course you can’t. But that’s all right. We’re Penardduns, which means we accept males as they are. Handsome but stupid and useless without us.”

  “That is very giving of you,” Braith teased.

  But Owena said, in all seriousness, “I know.”

  Addolgar opened his eyes again and announced, “You’re young again, Braith of the Darkness!”

  Braith frowned. “What?”

  “You’re young again. I saw you much older and you were still astoundingly beautiful. But now you’re young again . . . and you’ve multiplied.”

  “Multi . . .”

  Braith looked over her shoulder and snarled at the additional versions of herself. “Don’t you lot have something else to do?”

  “Come on,” one of the copies said to the others. “She’s got her claws into this one.”

  “You need to learn to share, Braith of the Darkness,” said another.

  “You need to piss off, cousin.”

  One copy grabbed another copy’s arm. “Come on, sister. She’s attached to this one. You might as well give it up.”

  With some grumbling, the copies departed, leaving Addolgar alone with the original. The perfect, delicious original.

  “How do you feel?” Braith asked him.

  “Not bad. But I think that’s because the Older You had me drink some ale that’s completely wiped any and all pain from my system. I want to bring some of that home.”

  Braith dropped her head, but he could tell from the way her shoulders shook that she was laughing.

  “Well,” she finally said, “I’m glad you’re all right. I was worried.”

  “So was I. But Older You took very good care of me.”

  “You should know, Addolgar, that Older Me is Owena. And I wouldn’t call her Older anything, if I were you.”

  “Good idea. The lasses hate that.”

  “Yes. We lasses do.”

  Braith tucked the fur covering around Addolgar’s body, but he pushed the covers off again.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Get in.”

  Braith’s eyebrows went up. “Get in? Are you mad?”

  “No. I need you to help me heal.”

  “Addolgar the Cheerful, you need no such thing!”

  “Owena!” Addolgar yelled out as Braith desperately tried to cover his mouth. “Braith won’t help me heal!”

  “Gods, child!” Owena called from the other chamber. “Just get into bed with the big idiot. It’s not like he can do anything with as much of your aunt’s ale as I made him drink.”

  Addolgar grinned. “See? She agrees with me.”

  “Oh . . . fine!” Braith went around the other side of the bed they’d moved Addolgar to once Owena had used Magicks to force his body to shift to human, and got in next to him.

  “Aren’t you going to get naked?”

  “No, I am not going to get naked!”

  “Owena!” he called out. “Braith won’t get naked!”

  “Why are you making the poor lad work for it?” her aunt called back.

  “I am not getting naked!” Braith yelled so everyone would hear it. “So just leave off!”

  “Someone’s no fun,” one cousin announced.

  “Poor Cadwaladr!” said another.

  “Heard his father never had to work so hard,” another piped in.

  “There’s truth to that!” admitted an aunt.

  “I’ll get naked!” offered another.

  Pulling the covers up to cover both her and Addolgar, Braith settled into his side while yelling, “I swear by all the gods, if I have to come out there, there will be all hells to pay!”

  There was finally silence from her kin after that announcement, and that’s when Addolgar knew he’d been right. “Just like I said, Braith of the Darkness . . . you’re finally home.”

  “And how do you know that, Addolgar the Cheerful?”

  “Because your beautiful smile tells me so. Now cuddle me close so I can hold you while I sleep.”

  Braith did just that, placing her head against his chest and her arm around his waist. Addolgar wrapped his arms around Braith, sighed happily, and kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Braith,” he told her.

  “So am I. Because clearly my kin can’t be trusted around handsome dragons weak from blood loss.”

  And he adored the fact that she sounded a bit jealous when she said that.

  Chapter 15

  “Time to eat!” a voice bellowed, and Addolgar’s eyes snapped open to see one of Braith’s aunts standing over him. “You hungry, Cadwaladr?”

  “Always,” he admitted.

  “Good.” She motioned to a platter of meat she’d rested on a side table by the bed. “Owena wants you to eat. So eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The She-dragon grunted and walked out of the chamber.

  “Is she gone?” Braith whispered.

  “Aye.”

  “Am I that loud?” she asked.

  “Not at all. Braith, you barely speak.”

  “Why speak when you have little to say?”

  “You have tons to say, you just think it instead. But what you’re thinking shows on your face. And it’s usually scathing!”

  Braith giggled at that because they both knew he was right.

  Braith sat up, the smell of fresh meat rousing her stomach. She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink but Bercelak’s jerky and lake water since they’d left the pub. Even nicer, someone had cooked the meat for them. Much easier for their human forms to digest, and she always enjoyed the smell of freshly cooked meat.

  But before she dove headfirst into the platter of food, she studied Addolgar’s face. His color was back, and he seemed stronger than he had the night before.

  He returned her gaze before suddenly announcing, “You’re so beautiful.”

  Braith let out a sigh. “Damn. I thought you were getting better.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I thought you were getting better. But it seems you
’re still off from the loss of blood or my aunt’s ale.”

  “Because I told you that you’re beautiful?”

  Braith frowned. Addolgar did sound . . . better. Stronger. More like himself.

  “Well . . . I guess,” she admitted. “I’m just not used to it.”

  “Get used to it. I hate having to constantly argue my point with you.”

  “I didn’t think we were arguing.”

  “We would be if you kept not believing me when I tell you how beautiful you are.”

  Gods, she wished he’d stop saying it. It made her feel uncomfortable. Mostly because no one had ever said it to her before. Definitely not her father or brothers. And no other male dragon she’d spent time with before had said the things to her that Addolgar had said and continued to say.

  Things that she had to admit—at least to herself—she loved to hear even while they made her uncomfortable.

  “We still have to retrieve my father,” Braith said, trying to change the subject.

  “Trying to change the subject, I see,” Addolgar announced.

  Bastard.

  “Well, we do need to retrieve him.”

  “I know. And we will.”

  “You seem awfully confident about that.”

  “Your father has not decided to spend his life in the Northlands. I’ve been to the Northlands, Braith. It’s nothing but snow and ice and miserable dragons and humans. Your father may be a miserable bastard, but he wants the Southlands. The Northlands is not what he wants, and he has to know he’s not strong enough to ever get them. He couldn’t even manage his own daughter much less a bloody Lightning Horde. So I have no doubts we’ll find him. Now kiss me,” he ordered.

  “You are awfully surly this morning.”

  “The pain in my leg is brutal. My head hurts because I think I’m hungover from your aunt’s blasted ale. And you haven’t kissed me yet. So, aye, I am surly. I’m allowed to be surly!”

  A sentiment bellowed at Braith. And one that made her giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” he grumbled.

  “You’re much more terrifying when you’re cheerful. When you’re surly, you just sound like a cranky hatchling.” She thought a moment before adding, “Like Bercelak.”

  “There’s no need to be so bloody rude, Braith of the Darkness!”