And, as planned, she glanced in and kept walking....
Then Braith stopped, blinked, looked around, and, finally, took several steps back until she arrived at the chamber opening.
“Not a word,” he growled. “Not a bloody word.”
Taking another bite of bacon, Braith sauntered into the chamber until she reached the bed. She gazed down at Addolgar.
“Comfortable?” she asked.
“Leave off.”
“Just want to make sure you’re comfortable, Sergeant.” She leaned over and carefully studied the chains that had his arms secured to the bed. “Oh, poor lad.” She leaned back, shook her head sadly. “These aren’t dwarven steel, I’m afraid. You could probably break through dwarven steel like I did.” She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing when Addolgar rolled his eyes. “This is Volcano dragon steel. Even a Penarddun can’t break Volcano steel.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he demanded.
“Of course not. I’m sure this was done in your best interest.” She smirked. “Did you try to leave? Did you find out they sent my cousins into Northland territory?”
“Even you have to know that was foolish.”
“They didn’t ask me. But at least my cousins are not wounded. Can’t fight anyone with that leg of yours.”
“It’s healing.”
“I’m sure it is. But it’ll be even better tomorrow.”
Addolgar snarled, looking off.
“Don’t be mad at me,” Braith told him. “I didn’t chain you up.”
“But you would have.”
“If it would allow you to heal properly so you can adequately back me up in a fight—damn right I would.”
He glowered at her. “Did you know?”
She took another bite of bacon before asking, “Know what?”
“That your kin has started calling me The Mountain?”
The snort and the bacon she’d been chewing were out of her mouth before she could even think to stop them, so when both hit Addolgar full in the face, she could tell he was not happy about it.
“Get out,” he ordered.
“Addolgar—”
“Just go.”
“You’re being unreasonable.” She dropped the rest of the bacon on the plate of untouched meat Owena had placed on the side table earlier and wiped her hands off on her trousers.
“I know you’re in pain,” she said.
“I’m fine.”
“And that you’re anxious and miserable. I understand all that.”
“You understand nothing, heartless female.”
“But we’re all just trying to take care of you.”
“By tying me to the bed? Is that what Daughters of the House of Penarddun call taking care of the wounded?”
“They only did that to protect you.”
“And you’re full of massive shi—”
“Addolgar the Cheerful!” she barked, mostly so she wouldn’t laugh. “Watch how you speak to me, Low Born!”
“Finally,” he grumbled. “Signs that you are, actually, a bloody royal.”
“I am a royal. Royal blood runs through my veins, and my aunts say that my mother left me a vast fortune that my father didn’t know about. Now it’s all mine. They’ve been saving it for me. A dragon’s hoard of jewels and gold, just for me.”
“What is your point in telling me this?”
“So you’ll know that I’m a powerful royal now with all my gold.”
“And?”
“You better be nice to me.”
“Or what?” he challenged, his dark silver brows pulled low, his brown eyes annoyed. Addolgar the Cheerful was definitely a healer’s nightmare. He was always in such good spirits that when he was truly wounded or ill, he just became an incorrigible baby.
A handsome, adorable, incorrigible baby.
Braith moved to the foot of the bed and using one finger, stroked it down the arch of Addolgar’s foot, then using three fingers, she slipped her hand under the cover and stroked carefully across Addolgar’s bandaged ankle and up his calf.
“What are you doing?” he asked as she, and her hand, moved forward.
“Amusing myself as powerful royals are allowed to do.” She dragged her fingers up his inside thigh. “Are you, Low Born, saying I’m not allowed to amuse myself with you?”
Still frowning, Addolgar stared at her, clearly confused. Until the back of her hand brushed against his cock, and his entire body jerked in surprise. His frown slowly faded and he gazed at her with wide eyes.
“Well,” she pushed, “am I not allowed to amuse myself with you?”
Addolgar cleared his throat, shook his head. “Of course you are . . . powerful royal. Amuse yourself all you’d like.”
When had Braith become this brazen little wench who couldn’t seem to stop smiling and touching his cock? Not that he minded her being a brazen little wench. He liked her a lot. Perhaps more than he should. But now he knew he’d been right all along. Braith had been missing something. But now, back with her kin, a part of them, she was whole once more. And being whole would make anyone happy.
And a happy Braith was a Braith who brazenly put her hand under his fur covering and stroked his cock.
Her fingers strong and firm, she smiled as she watched him.
“Unchain me, Braith,” he ordered, desperate to get his hands on her. To drag her to the bed and take her, hard and fast.