“You’re planning to leave, aren’t you?”

How she knew these things, he’d never know. “Look, you have a kingdom to—”

“Horseshit!”

“What?”

“He told me you’d come up with some noble horseshit about me having to defend my kingdom and no one able to accept the two of us.”

“Gwenvael,” he growled angrily. “Annwyl, it is for your—”

“You have two choices, dragon,” she cut in smoothly.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Do I?”

“Yes. You do.”

“And they are?”

“Claim me now. Or let me go forever.”

He’d kill his brother for his big mouth.

“You don’t even know what that means.”

“Yes. I do.”

He wanted to Claim her. To make her his own. Yet he planned to wait until she’d secured her reign. And if, after that, she still wanted him. . . . “No. You don’t.”

“I know I’ll not waste my life waiting for you.” That stung. More than he wanted to admit.

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Really? You’re not?”

“No.”

“So I can take any man right now and you won’t care.”

“If that’s your wish.” He bet a lie that size could kill him.

“Well, any man won’t do,” she mused softly. “But I think Gwenvael is still here.”

She grabbed a fur covering and headed toward the tent flap. Fearghus seized her by her arm and swung her around. “That’s not funny,” he growled.

“Fearghus, just admit it. You’d kill any man or dragon who came near me.”

He wanted to say no. He wanted it to be the truth. But they both knew better.

“I would.”

She leaned into him. Her br**sts against his forearm. He closed his eyes as her hand ran down his chest, his hips, finally grasping his shaft in her hand. She ran her fingers over the veins and ridges, her thumb circled the head. “Then Claim me.”

“No.”

She angrily released what had now become a healthy erection. “Why?”

“Because it would be clear to all that you are mine. That your love and loyalty belonged to a dragon.”

“And?”

“Could you at least act afraid?”

“The only thing I feared has his head on a spike outside my camp. Now my fear is of living the rest of my life without you.”

Fearghus stared at Annwyl. Just that morning the woman bravely took the queen’s flame. A flame imbued with the most ancient of Magicks. And until her death, Annwyl would always be immune to any dragon’s fire. But he knew his mother well enough to know she didn’t make it easy on the girl. Annwyl’s back and side were completely covered in dark bruises. The old bitch probably knocked her right out of her chamber.

His eyes glanced briefly at the mark clearly defined on her chest; it was burned into the tan skin above her br**sts. She now wore the Chain of Beathag as well. And would for the rest of her life. It would always be there, right under her skin. One of the most powerful gods-created items a dragon could bestow upon a human. The Chain of Beathag could extend the life of the wearer but only if her heart remained pure and her love true. Her love for the dragon. Otherwise it would be a fiery and painful death that would last days.

He touched the mark and Annwyl winced, her skin still sensitive. Annwyl loved him. She wouldn’t have survived if she hadn’t.

Yet he couldn’t let that change his plan. He wouldn’t put Annwyl at risk until she secured her reign. Of course that didn’t mean Annwyl would make it easy on him.

“Annwyl—”

“I grow tired of this . . . and of you.” She snatched her arm away from him, taking several long strides to the wood table in the middle of her tent. Already she moved like a queen. The humans would be lucky to have her as their sovereign.

“Claim me now, dragon.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, the fur barely covering her at all. “Or go. And never come back.”

He knew what he should do. He should walk out of her life forever. He should let some nice human boy take her. Some nice human boy he would have to kill for touching the woman he loved.

With a sigh, Fearghus went and stood in front of her. “You are a mad bitch, Annwyl the Bloody.”

“What other woman would put up with you, Fearghus the Destroyer?”

Fearghus leaned down and kissed the top of Annwyl’s head to prevent himself from laughing. “You are a strange woman, Queen Annwyl.” He brushed his cheek against hers.

“So I’ve been told.” His hands slid under the fur covering, gliding along her waist, her back, her rear. He heard her breath catch as she leaned into him. “Don’t make me wait, dragon. Claim me now or let me go forever.”

“Are you sure, Annwyl? Once this is done, there will be no going back.”

“I’ve made my decision, dragon.” She let the fur covering drop to the floor. “But make sure it’s what you want. Do me no favors.”

He gripped her around the waist and easily sat Annwyl on the wood table. He kissed her forehead, then her neck as he grasped both her forearms in his hands. He leaned in and kissed her luscious mouth as his grip on her arms became tighter.

Annwyl stared at Fearghus and wondered what he was doing. He stood quietly, holding onto her forearms as if he were afraid she’d run away. But that wouldn’t happen. She wanted this, and him, more than anything. But maybe he’d decided he just didn’t want her. That he’d rather spend his long life with a dragon as a mate.