Morfyd knew her curiosity would soon get the better of her. But something was going on, and she planned to find out exactly what.

Annwyl watched the shadows move through the glen. She knew the hour grew late. And her body tensed in anticipation. She saw it now as a kind of ritual. They would meet and train for hours. Break to eat in silence. Train for several more hours. And at the end of it, something would happen. Something that usually caused increased wetness between her thighs.

Their blades clashed one more time.

“Hold,” he barked. She smiled. The stronger she grew, the more she seemed to be wearing him out. She had no doubt he could continue for a few more hours, but she liked that her skills had improved since they’d first started.

He sheathed his sword and turned from her. She crouched down and picked up her shirt, pulling the soft, plain cotton material over her head. She sheathed both her weapons and looked up to find boots standing in front of her. She fought to control her breathing as she slowly looked up at him.

He stared down at her, his face inscrutable and half covered by his black hair. He almost looked angry at her, his silence driving her to distraction. “Is there a problem?” she snapped.

A low growl erupted from the back of his throat as he reached down and took hold of her shirt, pulling her to her feet. Then his mouth latched onto hers. Annwyl didn’t fight him. She had no desire to. Instead she wrapped one arm around his neck, the other around his waist. He had her by the nape of her neck, his other hand slipping under her shirt. His rough fingers moved across the sweat-covered flesh of her back while his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that was so desperate, so passionate, she thought for sure he would take her right at that moment.

Instead, he let her go as abruptly as he’d grabbed her. And she couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her throat when he broke off contact. He stared at her for a moment longer, than he stormed off. Just like that. Leaving nothing but the dull ache between her legs to keep her company.

Morfyd placed food in front of Annwyl and watched the girl ignore it. In fact, she hadn’t spoken since her return. Morfyd glanced over the girl’s body. She wore only her bindings and leggings, and for the first time Morfyd noticed the bruises, bloody nicks, and deep cuts that covered Annwyl’s body.

“Annwyl.” The girl’s green eyes flickered toward Morfyd. “Where did those bruises come from?”

“My training.” She made the statement as if Morfyd were supposed to know what the hell she spoke of.

“Your training?”

“Aye. With the knight.”

Morfyd’s eyes narrowed. “What knight?”

“The one who was here when I was healing. The dragon’s friend.”

Morfyd couldn’t hide her surprise as she took a sudden step back. Her brother with a knight friend? Not in this lifetime. Or any lifetime for that matter. And suddenly his recent desire to traipse into the village as human made sense.

“Ah, yes. His knight friend. And he’s done this to you?”

“You could say that.”

Morfyd nodded. She needed to find out what was going on. Now. The curiosity was killing her!

“Is the dragon here?” Annwyl asked hopefully.

“As a matter of fact, no. He’s not.” The girl went back to staring at the wall. “Eat, Annwyl. I need you to keep your strength up. Understand?”

The girl nodded but made no move to eat and continued to stare at her fascinating wall.

He looped around the glen, moving past a large boulder, heading for the back way into his den. He’d gone into town, running all the way, to order a few things and hopefully work the girl out of his system. It didn’t work. If he stumbled across her now, he’d have a hard time not taking her up against a tree. So, again, it looked as if his cold lake would be his only respite.

But as he came around the boulder he stopped. Morfyd stood waiting for him. Her eyes narrowed in anger, her arms crossed in front of her chest, one foot tapping sharply against the grass.

She glared at her brother for several moments. “I’m telling!” she barked. Then she was off.

“Morfyd!” He charged after her, snatching her around the waist before she could get away from him. She slapped at his hands. But when that didn’t work she slammed her elbow into his face. He released her and she spun around to face him.

The two siblings stared at each other. “Keep your mouth shut, sister.”

Morfyd hissed just before she latched onto a handful of Fearghus’s hair and pulled.

“You little . . .” He winced in pain and wrapped his arm under his sister’s leg, tossing her on her back. She didn’t let her grip on his hair go though, and instead reached up and punched him in the head. “Ow!” He slapped her hands away. Could this be more ridiculous? They were dragons. The mightiest killers in the known world. What the hell were they doing?

“Hold it! Just hold it!”

Morfyd stopped. “How could you lie to her like that?”\

“I’m not lying.”

“Did you go up to her and say ‘It’s me. Fearghus.’”

“Well, not exactly . . .”

“Liar!” She dragged herself off the ground by using her brother’s hair to pull herself to her feet.

“Stop yelling!”

She finally released her hold on Fearghus’s hair. “What are you up to, brother?”

“Getting her ready.”

She raised an eyebrow. “For what exactly?”