Brannie chuckled but Keita was focused on her current issue.

Leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees, Keita asked Aidan, “What should we do about the Riders?”

“Well, poisoning is out. That never works on Daughters of the Steppes.”

“Again,” Brannie repeated, “killing the sister of my brother’s mate is not an acceptable suggestion.”

“I think we should bring them with us.”

Keita straightened. “You do? And how do we explain their presence to the Empress?”

Aidan shrugged and smiled. “Tell the truth. They attached themselves to us and we couldn’t get rid of them. The Eastlanders know all about our Riders and they have their own, led by some human named Batu . . . or something. They trade with them. Plus, your cousin is mated with Kachka’s sister. Her insisting on also protecting you because she doesn’t trust the males to do it is a story any monarch would believe about the Cadwaladrs and the Daughters of the Steppes.”

He yawned and used both hands to scratch his head. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have the backup of two raging warriors and a disturbingly evil witch.”

“She is evil, isn’t she?” Brannie asked. “It’s not just my imagination.”

“No. It’s not.”

Standing, Keita began to pace for a minute or two. Then she stopped, nodded her head. “You’re right, Aidan. This might work to our advantage. We’ll bring them.”

She smiled at them both, then left.

Brannie smirked at Aidan. “She actually thinks she had some say in that shit.”

“She’s a royal. Of course she thought she had some say.”

Now yawning herself, Brannie fell back on her bed. She was exhausted. Perhaps too exhausted to even take off her boots.

She felt the bed dip and looked to her right. Aidan had stretched out beside her.

“Before you complain about me being here . . . I need your protection.”

Brannie grinned. “From Zoya?”

“I’m the only one not too drunk to speak. And now that she’s been fed, I’m sure she has”—he shuddered—“other needs.”

“Doesn’t she have, I don’t know, ten thousand husbands?”

“Close.”

“Where’s the loyalty?”

“Apparently their husbands are supposed to understand that when they’re away from the tribe to do battle, they will get their needs met by others.”

Brannie snorted. “My mother never did that to me da and she was off in battle all the time.”

“They’re dragons. Completely different.”

“And they have hands!” When Aidan frowned at the statement, she added, “You know.” Then she moved her hand to just above her crotch and moved it around a bit.

When he understood, he laughed.

“Excellent point, Captain. They have hands.”

“And Elena better not do that to my brother.”

“The brother who you say is a big baby?”

“He is a big baby. That’s why I’m saying it. He couldn’t handle something like that. She’d break his heart. Even worse, my mother would snap her neck. As you know, she absolutely adores her baby boy.”

Aidan suddenly rolled onto his side, his mouth pressed against her chain mail–covered shoulder.

“Comfortable?” she asked.

“I’ll be more comfortable when this war is over and I can enjoy my bed in my cave.”

“You have a bed in your cave?”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t have a cave.”

“You don’t have a cave?”

“Never had time to get one. I went from my father’s castle right into army training. And after that, I was always with my unit or with Izzy at Garbhán Isle or her house. I always had a place to stay.”

“Where do you keep all your things?”

“What things?”

“Your hoard.”

“Who needs a hoard? I have kin.”

“Must be nice,” he murmured, moving in closer.

“You have kin, too.”

“Horrible, horrible kin.”

Smiling, she could feel herself beginning to slowly doze off. “They are horrible. But you have them. And you like your youngest sister well enough.”

“I do.”

Brannie was seconds from falling asleep when she felt it. A kiss against her temple.

She immediately snapped awake.

Raising herself on her elbow so she could look down on Aidan, she snapped, “What was that?”

His gold eyes fluttered open and he yawned. “What was what?”

“That kiss you just gave me.”

“I guess it was . . . a kiss. But based on the way you’re staring at me, perhaps it was more a form of pure evil.”

Brannie sat up again. “Look, we’re friends, right?”

Aidan rolled to his back and propped himself up on both his elbows. “Are we?”

“Of course we are.”

“You hate me.”

“No, I do not hate you. I hate Caswyn. He killed Puddles.” She brushed her hair off her face. “Besides, if I hated you, the last thing I would have done was fuck you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She glanced back at him. “We’re friends.”

“Friends that fuck.”

“Yes!” she replied, gleeful he understood. “Friends that fuck. Exactly.” She patted his knee. “And we should keep it like that.”

“As opposed to . . . what? Exactly.”

“As opposed to loving kisses as we snuggle.”

* * *

Aidan studied Brannie carefully. It wasn’t like he’d branded her with his Claiming mark. He hadn’t even realized he’d kissed her. He was half-asleep at the time.

But she was obviously serious. And greatly concerned. He just didn’t know why.

He had no intention of Claiming anyone. Possibly ever.

His parents’ mating hadn’t been anything that made him believe love was never-ending. He knew better.

But great sex? Now that was something worth indulging in as often as possible. And he’d only had a small taste of Branwen the Awful. He definitely wanted more, and was happy to give her what she wanted if it meant things could keep going as they were.

“Oh, right.” Aidan nodded. “No out-of-bounds kissing.”

“Exactly. We’re friends who fuck. Not Claimed mates.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“But we need to make sure that it’s clear at all times.”

“I already agreed to no out-of-bounds kissing.”

“You can’t keep that up,” Brannie argued, her hand gesturing around her face. “We both know I’m irresistible.”

“You and Keita really are blood relations, aren’t you?”

She jumped off the bed, began pacing. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for both of us. Because when this is all over, assuming we both survive, we’ll be going our separate ways. And I don’t want you sobbing over it.”

Insulted, “I don’t sob.” She gave him an exasperated glare, but he argued, “I don’t! I saw my own brother eyeless . . . didn’t sob then.”

“You hate your brother!”

“You’re right,” he easily admitted. “I do. But you met him—he’s a prat.”

She paced a little more before stopping and pointing at him. “I’ve got it. No sex as dragons.”

Aidan gazed at her. When she only gazed back, he finally asked, “What?”

“No sex as dragons,” she said proudly, as if she’d discovered something brilliant. “We only fuck as human.”

“And your reasoning?”

“I’m saving it.”

“Too late for your virginity then?”

She glowered. “I’m saving it for the dragon I Claim.”

“Actually, he’s supposed to Claim you.”

“Och! So old-fashioned. We’re in modern times now. I can Claim who I want. And when I do, he’ll get me as dragon. In my true form.”