Then Gwenvael, of all dragons, stopped dancing and came over, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering at Aidan.

Gwenvael. The one whose entire family referred to him as Gwenvael the Whore.

And then . . . there it was. There he was.

Bercelak the Great, glaring down at Aidan like an angry mountain.

But before the angriest dragon Aidan had ever known could rip out his throat, Bram the Merciful stepped in front of all of them and roared, “What have you done to my baby?”

* * *

Izzy paced in front of Brannie, ranting. “That was, by far, the meanest thing you’ve ever done!”

“If he wants me, he’ll have to fight for me.”

“That’s not a fight. That’s a slaughter!”

“Are you saying I’m not worth dying for?”

“Branwen, no one is worth that!”

Branwen looked away from her best friend. “I don’t want to discuss it anymore.”

“Oh, we’re discussing.”

“Oh, no, we’re not.”

“Yes. We are.”

“No. We’re not.”

“You go in there and fix this, Branwen. Right now.”

“Nope.”

They both growled and looked away from each other.

Standing there, seething, and trying not to worry about crying at Aidan’s funeral procession, Brannie noticed Caswyn coming across the courtyard leading a big war horse by his reins.

Brannie’s mouth dropped open and, needing an outlet for her panic and anger, she ran down the steps and over to him.

“If you eat him—” she began.

Caswyn immediately raised his hands, palms out, like he was trying to ward her off.

“It’s not for me! It’s not for me!”

“No one is eating him!” she snapped, yanking the reins from him and pulling the horse toward her.

“No, no. He’s not for eating. He’s for you. I bought him for you.”

“What?”

“Sam the horse dealer was in town. Aidan says that most of the Cadwaladrs get their horses from him.”

“He’s expensive.”

“I have some gold,” he said, looking a bit insulted. “Anyway, I picked another one, but Aidan said you’d like this one. Even though he’s cranky and scarred and considering how many times he’s bitten me in the back of the head . . . mean, but Aidan said this was more your type of horse. He’s strong, I know that. And if you bond with him, Sam says he’ll be loyal to you to the end. And I promise not to eat him if he gets killed in battle.” He glanced off. “That will not happen again, I can assure you.”

Caswyn shrugged. “Anyway, this is just a little something to say I’m sorry about . . . Puddles.”

“But you didn’t think you did anything wrong.”

“No, but . . . I want to stay friends with you, and Aidan said this would be a good way to start.”

“Aidan just came up to you and—”

“No. I went to him. I was thinking armor or a new weapon. You know, something like that. But he said, ‘You ate her horse. Get her a bloody horse.’ Once he said it, it made sense. And he knew just the kind of horse to get you . . . which is apparently big and mean.”

“Oh, gods!” Brannie gasped. “I’ve killed him.”

Caswyn’s eyes grew wide. “What?”

Brannie didn’t answer; she just ran back into the hall, but her male kin and Aidan were gone.

Imagining them burying the poor bastard alive in a grave, Brannie stood in the middle of the floor, turning in circles, looking for any sign.

That’s when she caught sight of her mother. With a disapproving shake of her head, Ghleanna jerked her thumb toward the back hallway and Brannie took off running.

She bolted through the back door but slid to a stop when she saw Aidan standing by her father’s book tower, gazing up at the sky.

Worried he was internally bleeding and would drop dead at any second, she charged over to him, stopping right in front of him.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He peered at her. “You tried to get me killed.”

She opened her mouth to absolutely deny it but all that came out was, “Sort of.”

“Seems a little harsh for telling you I love you.”

“Izzy says it was the meanest thing I’ve ever done.”

“If it were anyone else . . . it would have been.”

Brannie took a step back. “What does that mean?” She looked him over. “And why aren’t you destroyed? You should be lying in a pool of your own sick right now.”

“Branwen, don’t you know me yet? I deal with unreasonable dragons all day, every day.”

“So?”

“So your kin wasn’t exactly a challenge. The only one I really had to worry about was your father. And by the gods was he pissed.”

“He was?”

“You’re his baby. He adores you like the suns.”

“So what did you say?”

“That I loved you and I was willing to do anything to make you happy and make you my mate.” Aidan shrugged. “That was all he needed to hear.”

Brannie fought hard not to smile. Not ready to give in just yet.

“And the rest of them?”

“I just gave them some gold.”

“What?”

Aidan laughed. “I’m kidding. Your father reasoned with them and they went off with the Riders to get more of that vile ale they insist on burying.”

“My father was able to reason with Uncle Bercelak?”

“Oh, gods no. He actually growled at him. It was rather uncomfortable. But then Keita stepped in.”

“And said?”

“Who else would love such a large-boned She-dragon?”

“That cow! And stop laughing!”

* * *

Aidan slipped his arm around Brannie’s waist and pulled her in close. “Don’t be mad at her. She was trying to help.”

“By insulting me?”

“I know it’s hard to believe but yes. I mean, I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“Excellent point.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I’m really sorry. I was just—”

“Panicking?”

“Aye.”

“You’re not used to panicking.”

“Oh, no. I panic all the time. Just not in battle . . . or with males.” She took a deep breath and admitted, “But I’ve never been in love before, so . . . that could have something to do with it.”

Aidan nodded but he made sure not to smile. He didn’t want her to think he was laughing at her. He wasn’t.

He was ecstatic. Branwen the Awful loved him. She loved him.

“You’re smiling,” she told him.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s all right. I’m over the hard part. But you know it’s not going to be easy for you.”

“As long as you don’t hit me with any more fireballs—”

“No, no. I mean . . . it won’t be easy. My father’s easy, of course, but the rest of my kin . . . are . . . uh . . . they’re . . . uh . . .”

Brannie was staring at something over Aidan’s shoulder so, without letting her go, he looked and his mouth dropped open.

Together they watched Annwyl the Bloody ride by on the back of one of the demon animals that had appeared at their last battle.

“Isn’t that one of those corpse-eater things that she was supposed to send back to hell?” Aidan asked.

“Uh . . . yeah. The baby, I think. Oh . . . and look . . . there’s the mother.”

“Should we tell Fearghus?”

Brannie shook her head. “No. I’m sure he’ll find out . . . when they eat something appalling . . . and dead.”

Annwyl smiled and waved at them and they both waved back.

As they did, Brannie asked, “Are you sure about this?”

“Are you kidding? So much more interesting than my own kin.”

Brannie rested her head on his shoulder and sighed out, “Well, if you’re sure.”