The ground shook as their grandfather, Bercelak, and a cadre of Cadwaladr kin landed hard.

Shifting to human, his gorgeous armor and weapons shifting with him, Bercelak strode forward, reached down, and lifted Talwyn up into his arms, giving her a quick but strong hug.

When he placed her on the ground, Talan threw his arms open and moved toward their grandfather, but Bercelak stopped him by slamming his hand against Talan’s forehead.

“But, Grandfather—”

“No.”

Laughing, Talan stepped back. “As always, it’s good to see you too, Grandfather.”

“Where is everyone?” Bercelak asked Talwyn.

“In Izzy’s tent.”

“Show me.”

She led him, Ghleanna, Rhys, and Addolgar to the tent while the rest of the Cadwaladrs went to set up their camp or check on their own troops. Bercelak’s sons immediately stepped back from the table and the elder Cadwaladrs took their places.

With a shake of his head, Bercelak swiped his hand across the map, knocking all the miniatures off the table and onto the floor. “Wrong.” He glanced at his sons. “As usual.”

“Glad to see you too, Dad,” Briec muttered.

“We start our assault tomorrow,” Bercelak announced.

“Why?” Fearghus asked.

“Because I said so.” He looked at Ghleanna. “Start off with aerial first. Our dragons attack with stones from the sky and the humans can use catapults against the walls. Let’s get them moving.”

“Get them moving?” Briec asked. “What do you mean get them moving? Get who moving?”

“The Zealots. You know I’m not much for waiting. They wanted me here”—he glanced at his kin—“they wanted us here. Let’s find out why.”

“If you know they want you here, why are you here?” Fearghus asked.

“Don’t you know me yet, boy?”

“I know you, Daddy,” Gwenvael said, putting his arms around his father’s chest, and gently resting his head on his father’s shoulder. “And I love you despite that.”

“I could have thrown his egg over the side of that mountain,” Bercelak said as everyone attempted to hide their laughter at his expense. “But I never did. So stupid.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Brannie woke up to the face of fear and terror. She tried to move as far away as possible, but she was trapped between that face and Aidan’s big body on the other side of her.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked.

“Are you feeling better? Can we leave now? I want to leave now.”

Not knowing how to answer any of that, she jabbed the body next to her.

“What?”

“You deal with him.”

Aidan raised his head and rested his chin on Brannie’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, Uther?”

“We want out. The witches are trying to poison us—”

“You sure that’s just not seasoning you’re looking at?”

“—we think the Riders are dead somewhere—”

“Or just relegated to the stables.”

“—and Keita is meaner than we ever thought. We want to go.”

“We have to wait until Brannie’s better.”

“She looks better.” Uther suddenly leaned in close. So close, if it had been Aidan, she’d assume he was trying to kiss her. “Tell him you’re better!”

The door opened behind Uther and several of the witches walked in. One came over to the bed. She held a large bucket of steaming water.

“We thought you’d like a bath,” she said to Brannie while staring at Uther.

“That sounds lovely.”

The witch pointed at Uther with her elbow. “Is he bothering you?”

“No,” Uther said.

“Yes,” Aidan said.

The witch pulled one hand away from the bucket and flicked it.

Fascinated, Brannie watched a panicked Uther slide backward out the door and into the hallway.

“That was wrong!” he yelled, but he didn’t come back into the room.

Smiling, the witch joined her sisters and together they filled up the metal tub. Oil was added to the water and the smell was so delicious that Brannie didn’t even wait for the witches to leave before she made her way to the tub and lowered herself in.

She closed her eyes and relaxed her head back against the tub rim. It suddenly occurred to her it was morning, the suns’ light filtering into the room through slats in the wood ceiling. The pain in her back had lessened to the point of being nonexistent and even the itching of healing skin was no longer present. But her human skin was definitely scarred. She reached back and could feel the difference between recently damaged and undamaged.

Not that Brannie cared, but this particular scar was big, still stretching from her shoulder to the back of her calf on her right side.

Of course, it could have been worse. That scar could be at the front instead. That would be unpleasant.

Deciding not to worry about any of that, she closed her eyes again and let out a happy sigh . . . until the water around her sloshed, splashing her in the face.

Lifting her head and opening her eyes, she watched Aidan getting comfortable opposite her in the tub.

“What are you doing?”

“Why shouldn’t I bathe, too?” he asked.

“You can . . . when I’m done.”

“I’m not the great Captain Branwen the Awful. Those witches aren’t going to set up a bath for me. They’re just going to chuck me out of the room like they did poor Uther.”

Brannie snorted a laugh, unable to help herself.

“Don’t look at me that way,” she told Aidan. “I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just . . .”

Aidan smiled. “I know. And it was a little funny.” He studied her. “How’s your back?”

“Better than I expected.”

“Good.”

“Were you worried?”

“You got a lightning bolt to the back, Branwen. Of course I was worried.”

Brannie shook her head. “I have to admit . . . it hurt like a bitch. And worse than anything you can get from a Lightning, that’s for sure. I mean, their bolts hurt, but . . . the real thing?” She shuddered. “Don’t need to go through that again. Ever.”

“Let me see.”

Brannie turned, pulling her knees up under her chin, her arms around her legs, her head bent forward. Aidan’s fingers brushed against the back of her neck, moving her wet hair out of the way.

“Humans,” he murmured. “I don’t know how they survive anything with such frail bodies.”

His fingers moved down the edges of the wound.

“So,” he said, and she could feel him getting closer even though the water barely moved, “here’s the question.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Would you go through that again . . . if it meant you didn’t have to go near a boat?”

“Absolutely.”

He laughed against her neck and Brannie dropped her head back, trying to see him. But then his lips were against hers. She automatically opened her mouth and their tongues met.

Aidan dug his hands into her hair and his urgency . . .

Brannie went up on her knees and turned completely around, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

“Shut up!” Brannie told him.

“I didn’t say anything!” he replied, laughing.

“You were about to. I could see it in your eyes.”

“You should be resting.”

“I find fucking restful.”

Aidan smirked. “Not the way I do it.”

Now determined, Brannie slapped her hand against his chest, shoved him back into the water, and launched herself at him.

* * *

Laughing, Aidan grabbed Brannie’s hips and tried to push her back, but she was unwilling to give up the territory she’d already taken.

Plus, she was slippery, the water and oils making it hard to keep his grip on her.

“Can we not discuss this?” he asked.

“No. We can’t.” She pinned him against the tub wall and leaned in. “Just take it. Take it like a dragon!”