“Oh . . . fine!” Braith went around the other side of the bed they’d moved Addolgar to once Owena had used Magicks to force his body to shift to human, and got in next to him.
“Aren’t you going to get naked?”
“No, I am not going to get naked!”
“Owena!” he called out. “Braith won’t get naked!”
“Why are you making the poor lad work for it?” her aunt called back.
“I am not getting naked!” Braith yelled so everyone would hear it. “So just leave off!”
“Someone’s no fun,” one cousin announced.
“Poor Cadwaladr!” said another.
“Heard his father never had to work so hard,” another piped in.
“There’s truth to that!” admitted an aunt.
“I’ll get naked!” offered another.
Pulling the covers up to cover both her and Addolgar, Braith settled into his side while yelling, “I swear by all the gods, if I have to come out there, there will be all hells to pay!”
There was finally silence from her kin after that announcement, and that’s when Addolgar knew he’d been right. “Just like I said, Braith of the Darkness . . . you’re finally home.”
“And how do you know that, Addolgar the Cheerful?”
“Because your beautiful smile tells me so. Now cuddle me close so I can hold you while I sleep.”
Braith did just that, placing her head against his chest and her arm around his waist. Addolgar wrapped his arms around Braith, sighed happily, and kissed the top of her head.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Braith,” he told her.
“So am I. Because clearly my kin can’t be trusted around handsome dragons weak from blood loss.”
And he adored the fact that she sounded a bit jealous when she said that.
Chapter 15
“Time to eat!” a voice bellowed, and Addolgar’s eyes snapped open to see one of Braith’s aunts standing over him. “You hungry, Cadwaladr?”
“Always,” he admitted.
“Good.” She motioned to a platter of meat she’d rested on a side table by the bed. “Owena wants you to eat. So eat.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The She-dragon grunted and walked out of the chamber.
“Is she gone?” Braith whispered.
“Aye.”“Am I that loud?” she asked.
“Not at all. Braith, you barely speak.”
“Why speak when you have little to say?”
“You have tons to say, you just think it instead. But what you’re thinking shows on your face. And it’s usually scathing!”
Braith giggled at that because they both knew he was right.
Braith sat up, the smell of fresh meat rousing her stomach. She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink but Bercelak’s jerky and lake water since they’d left the pub. Even nicer, someone had cooked the meat for them. Much easier for their human forms to digest, and she always enjoyed the smell of freshly cooked meat.
But before she dove headfirst into the platter of food, she studied Addolgar’s face. His color was back, and he seemed stronger than he had the night before.
He returned her gaze before suddenly announcing, “You’re so beautiful.”
Braith let out a sigh. “Damn. I thought you were getting better.”
“Sorry?”
“I thought you were getting better. But it seems you’re still off from the loss of blood or my aunt’s ale.”
“Because I told you that you’re beautiful?”
Braith frowned. Addolgar did sound . . . better. Stronger. More like himself.
“Well . . . I guess,” she admitted. “I’m just not used to it.”
“Get used to it. I hate having to constantly argue my point with you.”
“I didn’t think we were arguing.”
“We would be if you kept not believing me when I tell you how beautiful you are.”
Gods, she wished he’d stop saying it. It made her feel uncomfortable. Mostly because no one had ever said it to her before. Definitely not her father or brothers. And no other male dragon she’d spent time with before had said the things to her that Addolgar had said and continued to say.
Things that she had to admit—at least to herself—she loved to hear even while they made her uncomfortable.
“We still have to retrieve my father,” Braith said, trying to change the subject.
“Trying to change the subject, I see,” Addolgar announced.
Bastard.
“Well, we do need to retrieve him.”
“I know. And we will.”
“You seem awfully confident about that.”
“Your father has not decided to spend his life in the Northlands. I’ve been to the Northlands, Braith. It’s nothing but snow and ice and miserable dragons and humans. Your father may be a miserable bastard, but he wants the Southlands. The Northlands is not what he wants, and he has to know he’s not strong enough to ever get them. He couldn’t even manage his own daughter much less a bloody Lightning Horde. So I have no doubts we’ll find him. Now kiss me,” he ordered.
“You are awfully surly this morning.”
“The pain in my leg is brutal. My head hurts because I think I’m hungover from your aunt’s blasted ale. And you haven’t kissed me yet. So, aye, I am surly. I’m allowed to be surly!”