Aidan immediately turned to the queen. “Lord Bercelak is leaving your side?”
“I want this done, Aidan. They’ve been destroying my lands, now our mountains. Burning the forests, salting the earth. And next they’ll go for our water supplies. We can no longer afford to go back and forth with them. Another year of this and we’ll have nothing left for all of you to come home to.”
“At this moment,” Ghleanna explained, “King Gaius is using his legions to push Salebiri’s troops back to their soil. Then we close ranks around them—and crush them. Once we’re done there, we take out Salebiri at his home front, leaving nothing behind.”
Brannie nodded at her mother’s words. “Good.” She glanced at Aidan and said, “We need to get back and—”
“No,” Ghleanna cut in. She jerked her thumb at a surprisingly quiet Keita. “You go with your cousin.”
Brannie reared back as if she’d been slapped.
“I’ll do no such thing.”
Black eyes locked on black eyes. “You’ll do as I order you to.”
“No. Not on this. I will not risk my troops—Mum! Ow! Stop it!”
Aidan cringed watching Ghleanna the Decimator grab her daughter by the hair and walk off with her.
“Excuse us a minute,” she growled at Rhiannon.
“Take your time.”
Once the two She-dragons were a bit away from them for privacy, Rhiannon smirked at Aidan and asked, “Do you plan to disobey any orders, dearest Aidan?”
“Who? Me?” He snorted. “I like my hair just where it is, my queen. On my head.”
“It does look lovely there.”
He smiled. “Doesn’t it?”
* * *
Brannie tried to pull away from her mother without hurting her, but Ghleanna gripped her the same way she used to when she had to separate Brannie from her brother Celyn.
“Mum!” she barked again. “Let me go!”
Her mother abruptly released her, sending Brannie back-first into the trunk of a very large oak.
“What do you think you’re doing?” her mother demanded.
“What am I doing? Trying not to get in a brawl with me own mum. That’s what!”
“When you’re given an order—”
“But, Mum—”
Her mother held up one blunt, angry finger. And it was so angry.
“When you’re given an order by a superior,” she said again, “you bloody well follow it.”
“Even when I know it’s wrong? Even when I know it’s a waste of my bloody time?”
“Who are you to say it’s wrong?”
“You want me to follow Keita. I love my cousin, but—”
“Ren has disappeared.”
“Ren? Ren who?” Ghleanna raised a brow, and Brannie guessed, “Ren of the Chosen?”
Ren of the Chosen was the youngest offspring of Empress Xinyi, the dragon ruler of the Eastland Empires far across the seas. When he was much younger, he’d been sent to Devenallt Mountain by his then-ruling father. From what Brannie had heard, no one had known what to expect from any Eastland royal, much less one related by direct bloodline to the Chosen Dynasty.
But Ren had surprised everyone by fitting in. Not only with the royals, but even the Cadwaladrs. Bercelak had nothing but good things to say about him, and Brannie’s uncle had nothing good to say about anyone.
It was Keita, though, who became Ren’s closest ally, the pair heading off on their own adventures when they’d become old enough.
And their friendship over all these years had never waned.
“I’m sorry for Keita, Mum, but . . . so?”
“He was heading back to the Eastlands to see if the Empress would join us in our fight against the Zealots.”
Brannie let out a frustrated breath. “Well . . . again, that’s unfortunate, but—”
“And somewhere between Annwyl’s castle and the Port Cities Ren vanished. An event that has put us in a very bad situation.”
“Why?”
“Because Ren was under our protection when he vanished and has been since the day he’d stepped on our territories.”
“What did his guards say?”
“They’re dead.”
“Oh.” Brannie glanced off. “Well . . . that’s not good.”
* * *
Talwyn saw her father land in the midst of the chaos as their troops worked to get their new camp set up. And by the time she’d pushed past all those in the way, her father was in his human form and had on his leggings and boots.
She ran into her father’s open arms.
“Daddy!”
He lifted her off the ground and hugged her tight. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Of course she is. She’s pure evil.”
Talwyn smiled. “Good to see you too, Uncle Briec.”
“Demon offspring,” Briec greeted back. “Now where is my perfect daughter? You kept her safe, didn’t you?”
“She’s fine.” Talwyn tapped her father’s shoulders and he placed her back on the ground. “She didn’t react well, though, when the spells began to fly.”
“What do you mean?”
“She started bleeding from the eyes, but—”
“My baby!” Briec barked, tearing off into the camp.
Talwyn shrugged and focused on her father. “She’ll live.” She glanced around. “Where’s Uncle Gwenvael?”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” her father said dismissively.
“Why are you here, Daddy?” Talwyn asked, not in the mood to delve further about the missing Gwenvael.
“These recent attacks have changed our plans. Even before this nightmare . . . the queen had a new move.”
Talwyn cringed. “That sounds ominous, Da.”
“When it involves your grandmother—it usually is.”
* * *
“We need Ren found.”
“And if he’s dead or if we can’t find him?” Brannie asked her mother. “What then?”
“Then you accompany Keita to the Eastlands and protect her while she kills the Empress and most likely all of Ren’s siblings.”
Brannie’s eyes grew wide as her mother tried to walk off. She grabbed her arm and yanked the She-dragon back.
“Have you two lost your minds?”
“If that dragoness thinks we’re responsible for the death of her son, she’ll call for war anyway. And that we can’t afford. A new emperor may be more reasonable.”
Ghleanna tried to walk away once more but Brannie still had hold of her and yanked her back.
“I’m not going to allow Keita the Viper to kill an entire ruling family. There has to be something else we can do.”
“Do you plan to negotiate with royals?”
“That’s not really my strength, Mum.”
“All right then.”
“But Keita can negotiate with anyone. Between her smile and her cock-sucking skills, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“She has a mate now, so she doesn’t do that sort of thing anymore. Except to him, I’m assuming. But if you think the Empress can be stopped from either joining Salebiri or just destroying us for the fun of it, then I strongly suggest you go with Keita. Because her plan is to wipe out the entire family, if necessary. And although she may never raise a sword or have her own battle cry . . . if she wants them dead, she’ll make sure they’re dead. Unless you can convince her otherwise.”
“This isn’t fair, Mum.”
“You didn’t want to listen to orders—from your queen, no less—but now you have one of your precious moral obligations to motivate you. That should make you feel better.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Too bad. As I’ve told you since hatching, Branwen . . . life’s rough for a Cadwaladr.”
“Daddy always said life doesn’t have to be that rough.”
“Your daddy lied.”
“Mum!”
* * *
“So what do you think, dear Aidan?” the queen asked about her sacred space, arms spread wide, her grin wider.