“And fears you as well?”

“Why would she fear me? As long as she does what I tell her without question there is nothing to fear.”

“I don’t know if you’re joking.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s unfortunate.”

To think, for a few brief minutes Ragnar had worried that Dagmar had been tossed aside as many brilliant females often were, but he should have known better. If there was one survivor he knew, it was Dagmar Reinholdt.

The Thirteenth Offspring of the Reinholdt, Only Daughter of the Reinholdt, and now shockingly powerful Battle Lord of Annwyl the Bloody, Mad Queen of Dark Plains. He should have known Dagmar would never allow herself to be tossed aside by anyone. He should have known.

“And you enjoy what you do?”

“Quite a lot.”

“So then…you’re happy?”

She pursed her lips, hands wrapped around her cup of tea, her gaze on the ceiling.

Finally, Ragnar added, “Happy for a Northlander.”

“Oh! Oh, then yes. Quite happy.”

“I’m just glad you’re home,” Fearghus said, kissing the top of Keita’s head and hugging her close again.

“And I’m glad to be back. I’ve missed almost all of you.” Fearghus laughed. “And you say that I hold a grudge.”

“You do hold a grudge—as does your mate.”

“Annwyl?” Fearghus leaned back a bit. “What did she do?”

“Nearly took the head of Lord Vigholf and crushed the leg of poor Lord Meinhard.”

Fearghus pulled her to his chest again. “That’s…that’s too bad. I’ll talk to her about that later when I see her.” It was too quiet.

Keita pushed away from Fearghus and found all her kin—and Ren!—laughing. Silently, but still! “This is not funny!”

“Yes!” Briec crowed, ending their silence. “It is!”

“Do you know the jig I had to do to calm the situation? We can’t afford to make them enemies because you can’t control your mate, Fearghus.”

“Control Annwyl? I don’t try to control her, baby sister. I unleash her on the world like a devastating storm from the sea.”

“Here they come,” Gwenvael noted, shaking his head. “And just look who leads them.”

Briec sniffed. “I see two years has not given that idiot more sense.”

“They’re his friends now, I’m sure.” Fearghus sighed, looking and sounding more like their father every day.

But Keita wouldn’t stand for it. Always picking on little Éibhear! It was unforgivable!

Keita stood before her three brothers, hands on her hips. “Listen well to me, you uncaring lizards. You be nice to our brother! All he’s talked about the entire trip was seeing all of you, and you will make him feel welcome or I will do all in my power to make you suffer in ways that even the gods will fear.”

“What happened to our wailing little Keita?” Gwenvael asked.

And that’s when she punched him in the groin, dropping her brother to his knees. “I said be nice!” she snarled at her now-wailing older brother.

“Now everyone smile! And welcome him!”

Keita took a breath and called out, “Talaith?” The witch, who’d gone back into the castle a few minutes before, came out.

With a nod of her head, Keita motioned behind her. “Look who’s here.”

Talaith stepped around her mate and Fearghus. “Gods…Éibhear?”

“He’s grown a bit,” Keita teased.

“Éibhear!” Talaith cheered, throwing her arms in the air before charging down the stone steps and over to their youngest sibling.

“See?” Keita pointed out. “That is welcoming.” Fearghus and Briec looked at each other, shrugged, and threw their arms in the air. “Éibhear!” they both cheered in high-pitched voices that made her stamp her foot.

“That is not what I meant!”

Another stunning woman charged over to the oversized pup and threw herself into his arms.

“What does that boy have?” Vigholf asked. As if Meinhard would know. He worked hard simply not to have human females run from him screaming. As his sister once put it, “That permanent scowl you wear and the fact you can’t really see your neck because of your shoulders just makes human women think you only want to rape and pillage their villages. But once they get to know you…”

“Talaith!” the pup said, spinning the female in a circle.

“I’m so glad you’re home.” She kissed him on the cheeks, then the mouth. “And look how big you’ve gotten.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“If you dropped me from this height, I’d be dead by the time I landed.”

“Stop it, Talaith.”

She hugged him again, laughed. “You look wonderful, and all I care about is that you’re home.”

“I’m glad to be home.”

Princess Morfyd walked up behind her brother, patting his back.

“Does my brother not look handsome, Lady Talaith?”

“Gorgeous, Lady Morfyd.”

“Stop it.” The Blue’s cheeks turned red, and he ducked his head.

“Is he blushing?” Vigholf asked.

“I think so,” Meinhard said.

“Have you ever blushed?”

“Not that I know of.”