“To stop me from running away? Not necessary.” Bram gave her a small smile. “However, if you find other reasons to chain me to you, feel free.”

Ghleanna stumbled a bit. “Wait. What?”

But before Bram could elaborate on his request—in detail—Hew yelled out, “The trees!”

The Cadwaladrs moved in unison and with purpose, all of them surrounding Bram, their shields up and locked together, their weapons ready to strike.

“Watch your right, Hew!” Addolgar yelled out. “Look to the trees, Cai. Adain, send a call out. See if any of our kin are nearby. Tell them where we are.”

“I don’t see anything.”

“All you need to know,” Ghleanna reminded Cai, “is that Addolgar and Hew did. Now shut the f**k up and hold formation!”

Then there was silence. A painful, bloated silence that had Bram panting lightly so that when he needed his flame, he could unleash it as he’d been trained to do since hatching.

They waited, the moment growing more and more tense, but not once did any of the Cadwaladrs move. Not once did they even flinch. Even the younger ones who, according to Cadwaladr Code were still too young and untrained to be on their own.

And, just when he thought perhaps Cai had been right and there was nothing for Addolgar or Hew to see, a dragon in full armor dropped right in front of them, the beach and trees around them shaking.

“Shift!” Ghleanna yelled and Bram shifted to his natural form at the same time the Cadwaladrs did. It was all that kept him from being crushed to death, too.

“Shields!” Addolgar yelled and with a slam against the ground, their shields changed from human-sized to a size fit for enormous warrior dragons. “Weapons!” Another slam, this time to the base of their weapons, which had the deadly implements expanding in size. He knew that the Cadwaladrs had some special blacksmith among them, but gods, what a creation.

“Ghleanna!” Addolgar ordered, “Protect the royal!”

And as soon as Addolgar’s words left his snout, the first strike came.

With the open sea to their backs, Ghleanna felt relatively sure the traitors—because that’s how she thought of them—would be coming from one direction. They could try to come at them from the sea but they’d be quickly seen and dealt with by the Fins.

No. Approaching by land was safer and quicker. Besides . . . there were many of them. She counted at least twenty. And all of them trained soldiers of Rhiannon’s army. Soldiers Ghleanna had fought with, drunk with, raided small towns with. And yet, without a word, they were striking at the Cadwaladrs and the peacemaker.

For that betrayal alone, Ghleanna would make sure this beach would soon be called Red Sands.

The traitors advanced and Addolgar raised his lance. “Steady on, Cadwaladrs. Steady.”

The first traitor, a youngster who only recently got his Corporal armor, struck first, his impatience being his undoing as so often happened with those young warriors not trained by other Cadwaladrs.

Addolgar saw the opening and struck, his lance piercing right under the forearm—a major artery. The young warrior’s screams echoed out and the rest of the traitors attacked.

Ghleanna moved back, pushing the royal with her rear. He didn’t speak but she didn’t feel him shaking or trying to fly away in a panic. Good. She didn’t have time to track the fool down if he fled.

Her brothers fought bravely but, when more traitors came, they were forced to break formation. They did their best to keep their enemies away from Ghleanna and Bram, yet it was impossible to do it without risking their own lives. She wouldn’t have that.

When several went for Cai, Ghleanna used her battle axe to strike them down. Cutting one from shoulder to hip and the other from one leg to the other. Once she’d finished them off, she stepped back again to shield the royal.

“There are more, Ghleanna,” Bram told her, not once raising his voice. Never showing fear. “Coming from the north.”

She nodded. “Cai! Hew! North!”

When her two younger brothers turned, shields and weapons raised, Ghleanna sensed another dragon landing to the right of her and the royal.

She spun, pulling back her axe to strike, but she froze at the last second, her shock making her foolish and causing her to stop in mid-swing.

“Feoras?” she asked, unable to hide the emotion she felt at the sight of him.

The green dragon grinned wide—and slammed his sword into her chest. The last thing that went through her mind was that the only reason he’d missed her heart was because the royal behind her had pulled her to the side at the last second.

The peacemaker is much faster than I thought . . .

Bram released a blast of flame that sent Feoras the Fighter—now Feoras the Traitor when Bram was done telling this tale—and a group of soldiers several hundred feet away from them. Bram hadn’t merely been bragging when he said his flame was mighty. It was a family truth. As if their flame compensated for their lack of weapons skill. With no more than two fiery blasts, Bram could wipe out an entire village.

“Addolgar!” Bram called out. Ghleanna was in his arms, blood pouring from her wound.

Her brother cut another dragon down before looking over his shoulder.

“Gods!”

“It was Feoras!” Bram motioned to the dragon, who still hadn’t managed to get back on his claws, his head having struck the ground hard when he’d landed.

Addolgar snarled, ready to go after the one who’d cut down his beloved sister. But then more dragons landed around them.