“Name’s Brigida. Brigida the Most Foul.” She tossed her walking stick to him and picked up her speed, nearly skipping to wherever she was leading him. “And we’ll be close, you and I, Benedetto. And true power will be all ours.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Brannie and Izzy sat on one of the hills looking down at what was left of the battleground.

They were silent for a very long time, gazing at their soldiers killing any Zealots still left. Annwyl didn’t want any captives. She just wanted the Zealots wiped out.

A few had probably escaped but Brannie doubted the power of the cult would return. Who would want to be part of a defeated, eyeless cult?

Suddenly Izzy looked at her and asked, “Who gets trapped under a mountain?”

Brannie laughed. “It just went down.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t fly away. You must have been distracted.” Izzy smirked. “Was it Aidan distracting you?”

“Nope. It was Caswyn. He ate me horse.”

Izzy gasped. “Not Puddles!”

“My Puddles. I should have killed the idiot when I had the chance, because now it’ll just seem wrong after all we’ve been through together.”

“I’m sure I could get his Mì-runach brethren to beat him up for you.”

“Don’t bother. It won’t bring back Puddles.”

Izzy put her arm around Brannie’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you a new horse. It won’t be Puddles, but you’ll learn to love your next one, too.”

“I know you’re right.”

Izzy rested her head on Brannie’s shoulder and quietly admitted, “I’m so glad you’re not dead.”

“Me too.”

“And I’m glad you’re back.”

“Iz, you have no idea. Keita’s insane.”

“Oh, that I know.”

“There you are.” Éibhear dropped down next to Izzy and handed her a leather bag with dried meat. “Eat. Both of you.”

Brannie was just reaching for the bag when Aidan sat down next to her, Uther next to him, and Caswyn next to Uther.

“You all right?” Aidan asked.

“I’m fine.” That’s when she felt Izzy jab her in the ribs with her elbow.

Brannie snatched the bag of dried meat from her friend and barked, “Stop it.”

Izzy leaned forward and for a second of panic, Brannie was afraid her best friend was about to say something that would embarrass her in front of Aidan.

Thankfully she didn’t.

“Caswyn! You ate Puddles?”

“Awww,” Éibhear said, also leaning forward to look at his friend. “Not good ol’ Puddles!”

Caswyn balled his hands into fists and screamed out, “He was dying anywayyyyyyy!”

* * *

Annwyl heard a scream and turned around, looking up at the hills in the distance.

“So,” she asked Fearghus, continuing on with their conversation, “Brannie was gone, too?”

“Aye. We thought she’d been killed when the mountains went down.”

“Tough like her mother, that one.”

“Very true.” She heard him take a breath. “Annwyl . . . we have an issue.”

She faced her mate. “The Salebiri castle, right? I say we raze it to the bloody ground, salt the earth, and cover it with rocks. I don’t want anyone coming here to worship.”

“I’m not talking about the castle.”

“Oh, then what?”

Fearghus gestured to the left. “You can’t keep your demon army.”

“But they said I was their queen.”

“Annwyl—”

“Oh, come on! Why can’t I have a demon army? I killed their leader. Apparently that’s all it takes.”

“They belong in hell. They’ll be happier in hell. I’ll be happier with them in hell.”

Annwyl looked at Fearghus’s kin huddled by a tree, closely watching the demons.

“What do you lot think?”

“Send them back!” they all yelled at her.

“Well, no need to bark at me.” She again looked at Fearghus. “Fine. I’ll send them back.”

“Thank you. Now what about the cattle? The ones the demons call the corpse-eaters?”

“But look at the bang-up job they’ve done cleaning up for us,” Annwyl argued. “Usually we have to burn all these bodies, which is an awful mess and smell. But look . . . they’re halfway done and they’re just calmly grazing.”

“Annwyl . . . you’ll have to send them back, too. And that includes the baby.”

“But we’ve bonded!” she argued. “And the mother likes me.”

“But you’d never separate a mother from her baby, so we all know that you’ll want to keep both.”

“I like his mother.”

“No. You’ll have to send your demons back to hell.”

“You’re all being unreasonable, but I’ll do it.”

“You can wait til they’re finished grazing, though,” one of Rhy’s daughters said, causing everyone to stare at her. “You lot won’t be the one who has to burn bodies. Me and the grunts will. So let them finish.”

“Lazy,” Ghleanna complained before walking away, the rest of the Cadwaladrs going off to get their work done.

When they were alone, Fearghus gazed down at Annwyl and said, “You went to one of the hells and you came back with an army. That’s impressive.”

Annwyl shrugged. “He wanted our children, and he was planning to use me to do it. You know how that sort of thing makes me.”

“Insane with rage?”

“Exactly.” Annwyl stepped closer and whispered to Fearghus, “My father and brother were down there.”

“What? You saw them?”

“They came for me. To hurt me.”

“What happened?”

“Broke me brother’s arm, didn’t I? And when I dealt with the demon lord, he ran away like the big wanker he always was.”

“And your father?”

“I let the baby eat him since he was basically a corpse anyway.”

Fearghus started laughing. “You what?”

“He apparently was quite disappointed that I fuck a dragon and felt the need to tell me that, which was rude.”

Still laughing, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. “Annwyl the Bloody, you never fail to amaze me.”

“I did tell him that he should get to know his grandchildren and that Talwyn, especially, would adore meeting him.”

Fearghus dropped his head back and laughed loud, some of the soldiers stopping their work to see what the dragon known as Fearghus the Destroyer could be laughing about.

* * *

Ghleanna the Decimator was now the rank of major general of Her Majesty’s Dragon Army. She had been promoted to the position three years ago and was put in charge of the Fifth Battalion.

It hadn’t been easy getting this rank. She’d worked her ass off for it. And although some tried to accuse the Cadwaladrs of nepotism, giving their own an easy time of it, everyone eventually learned there was no free ride for any of them. In fact, Cadwaladrs were brutally hard on their own kin during training because they cared more if one of their own died in battle. They felt they’d failed to prepare them.

Which was why Ghleanna had always worried about her Branwen more than some of her other offspring. She’d been afraid the brutal training would change who she was. Would take away that spark that made Branwen Brannie.

But eventually Ghleanna had realized she had nothing to worry about.

Standing by a tree, she watched her daughter talking to her cousin-by-mating and best friend Izzy, telling some story about drunk Caswyn, Uther, and the Riders. And Branwen didn’t simply talk . . . she acted it all out as well.

“So, of course, I shoved him into the wall,” Brannie said, throwing out her arms to demonstrate the force she’d used. “I mean, why wouldn’t I? He ate Puddles.”

“Still can’t believe he did that.”

“I still can’t believe those two idiots told the Riders everything! Then we had Riders with us! Not that I minded. I mean, you can’t beat having Kachka at your side.”