Rhiannon waved her hand dismissively. “Yes. Yes.” She turned away. “But my son awaits, perhaps you best get that rump of yours moving.” Rhiannon headed toward the exit. “I must go. Bercelak, too, awaits and he is so impatient.”

“Need to get back to your chain, lady?” Morfyd and Keita coughed in surprise while the brothers simply appeared stunned.

Rhiannon glanced at Annwyl over her shoulder and gave the most sensual smile Annwyl ever witnessed. “Jealous?” Then she was gone.

Gwenvael stepped forward. For the first time Annwyl watched him get angry. “Woman, are you mad?”

“Why does everyone ask me that?”

“Well, you must have impressed her,” Keita added. “I thought for sure she would tear out your throat.” Annwyl remembered those white talons of the queen quite well. “I kept thinking what are we going to tell Fearghus? Then I thought who is going to tell Fearghus? Then I thought we’d make Morfyd do it.”

With a vicious hiss, “Excuse me?”

“Would all of you stop!” Annwyl wiped her hands on her leggings and stared down at her knees. She knew what she had to do. She looked up at the dragons. “I need a ride.”

Gwenvael smiled. Relief seemed to spread through his entire body. He would never admit it but Annwyl knew the dragon cared much for his brother. “Thought you would. I can take you.”

Annwyl raised an eyebrow. “Sure that is wise?”

Gwenvael shrugged. “Good point. Briec will take you.”

“I will not! I’ll not have her smelling like me when she gets back to him. I like my tail.”

“I’ll take her!” Éibhear offered happily.

“No!” both his brothers snapped.

“Honestly. You three are such idiots.” Keita motioned to Annwyl. “Let us go, sister. I will take you. I have some . . . uh . . . plans with a few soldiers near the glen.”

Annwyl shook her head as Morfyd snorted in disgust. “Um . . . all right.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Brastias.”

“Yes, Annwyl?” He stood beside Morfyd trying desperately not to smile, and failing miserably.

“I must take care of something, Brastias. Think you and Morfyd can keep that grain and lumber moving until my return?”

“Of course.” He grinned. “But we’ll let you know immediately if there’s any bloodshed.”

Annwyl looked at him. “And that’s all I’ve ever asked.”

Fearghus stretched out by his lake, his jaw cupped in one claw, the tip of his tail making swirling patterns in the blue water. He sighed. A year since he’d left her the morning after the final battle with her brother. A year since he’d held her in his arms. A year since he’d kissed her. A year since he’d buried his head between her thighs. A year since she’d punched him in the face.

He sighed again. He truly did miss her. He didn’t think he could miss anything or anyone that much. He wanted to go to her. Wanted to take his rightful place by her side. But he feared for her safety. And, more importantly, did she even still want him? What if she’d found someone else? Someone human? Someone who wouldn’t cough and accidentally toss a fireball at her in the process?

Did she already forget about him? Did she still love him? And when exactly did he become so insecure?

He sat up. This is ridiculous. He would go to Garbhán Isle. He’d retrieve his woman. She belonged to him. He’d Claimed her and nothing would change that.

Besides, he couldn’t take it anymore. Everything around his lair reminded him of Annwyl. He could almost smell her. Could almost feel her running up his dragon back, climbing atop his head, and bending her body over him so their eyes could meet.

“Did you miss me?”

“Annwyl?”

Fearghus, startled, jerked and Annwyl fell backward, tumbling down his back and tail. She hit the ground with an, “Oaf!”

He spun around and stared at her, unwilling to believe she was really in his lair. As she struggled to her feet, he shifted.

“Well that was quite the greeting . . . oh!”

He grabbed her and dropped both of them to the ground, his arms protecting her head and back. Once he had her on the ground, he kissed her. Her body’s response immediate and as strong as always. Then he pinned her arms over her head, holding her body down with his. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Where have I been? Where have you been?”

“Here! Waiting for you!”

She tried to yank her arms from his grasp, but he held on tight. He would not let her get away now. “You left me, Fearghus. I woke up and you were gone. What was I supposed to think?”

“That I wanted to protect you.”

“Yes. So your sister told me. But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have let me go?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He stared at her . . . hard. She glared back.

“If that’s how you feel, then why are you here now, Annwyl?”

“Your mother came for me,” she bit out between clenched teeth.

Fearghus stopped. “What?”

“I said that your mother came for me. Told me it was time to take my place beside you.”

His mother ordered Annwyl back to him. That couldn’t be good. Fearghus was afraid to ask but he had to know. “What did you say to her, Annwyl?”

“I told her to mind her own business.”