“No, brother. Leave her be,” Ghleanna ordered against his ear. “You can’t help her.”
Bercelak watched as the Magick of his kind tore through Rhiannon’s body, looping around her limbs, cutting through her chest and stomach, pouring off her like rain water.
“Do something!” he roared, unwilling to watch her writhe in pain. “We can’t leave her like this.”
“Naught we can do, but wait until the gods are done with her,” Maelona whispered.
As soon as Maelona said the words, Rhiannon’s body slowly rose up toward the ceiling. In fascinated silence, he and his family watched her rise and rise.
Then . . . she dropped. As if one of the gods slammed her with his mighty claws. But the force behind it was so great, Rhiannon’s body slammed through the floor of the Great Hall, disappearing from their sight.
“Gods!”
“The dungeon! She’s gone to the dungeon!”
“We have a dungeon?”
Bercelak’s father led the way into the rarely used lower floors of the castle. Cobwebs hung everywhere and they could hear the noises of small, frightened animals scurrying through the dank place. They found her right where she’d landed.
Bercelak ran to her side. “Rhiannon?” Ghleanna and Maelona crouched next to her.
Leaning over Rhiannon’s body, Maelona let out a deep sigh. “She breathes.”
Angry and unable to take it out on anyone else, Bercelak pushed Ghleanna’s shoulder. “Why did you have to tell her that?”
Growling, Ghleanna pushed him back. “How was I supposed to know she’d do something that bloody stupid?”
“Stop it.”
They both looked down to find Rhiannon’s eyes open and staring at them. “Stop fighting.”
“Rhiannon, are you all right?”
She blinked. “My head hurts a bit.” She licked her lips and Bercelak hated himself for wanting to kiss her again as opposed to taking care of her. “And every part of my body’s on fire.”
“Not surprising,” Ghleanna offered. “When that much Magick goes through you, Princess, you can expect a large bit of pain.”
Rhiannon turned those blue eyes to Bercelak’s sister. “That, too, would have been wonderful to know before I did this!” she ended on a healthy yell.
With a shake of his head, Bercelak carefully slipped his arms under Rhiannon’s neck and knees, lifting her off the floor as he stood. “Let’s get you back upstairs, Princess.”
“I’m still hungry, Low Born,” she muttered.
But before he could promise her food, she was snoring.
Rhiannon yawned and stretched. She felt amazing. Alive with power. She could hear things . . . sense things she’d never been able to before. She could actually see tendrils of Magick swirling around her.
She watched one small pink one twirl and twirl and twirl. She turned over, her eyes following it until she realized Bercelak lay next to her in the bed. Awake, his head propped up on one arm, he watched her with warmth, which did nothing but cause her the highest level of anxiety.Then she realized that, except for the thin animal skin covering them, they were both quite naked. As dragon, this would mean nothing. But in human form. . . .
“Ow!” he snapped as her fist made contact with his hard chest.
“Why are we in bed together? What have you done?” She went to punch him again but he grabbed both her wrists, pushing her onto her back.
“Stop hitting me!”
“Get off me!”
“Not until you calm down!”
Very hard to calm down, though, when Bercelak’s warm, heavy body lay directly on top of hers. Part of her would like nothing more than to open her legs to him. All that Magick running through her system had done nothing but increase her overwhelming desire to have this dragon f**k her . . . hard, long, and with absolutely no mercy.
Aye. That’s what she wanted.
Good gods! What have I done to myself?
“Calm down, Rhiannon, and I’ll let you go.”
He spoke calmly, soothingly. Like he were trying to coax a yummy mare over to him before taking her off to be a snack.
Rhiannon had no choice but to comply. As human she was still so weak compared to him.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself through sheer will of effort to relax. It worked, but instead of releasing her, Bercelak stared at her face. Specifically her mouth.
“Bercelak?”
“Mhmm?”
“Let me go.”
“Are you sure?” And he looked at her with such desperate longing she smiled.
“Aye. I’m sure.”
With a groaned sigh of resignation, he released her wrists and rolled onto his back. Still, she had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing at the sight of his erection creating a nice tent with the bedding.
“You’re too cruel to me,” he groaned.
“Why? Because I won’t let you have your vile way with me?”
“Yes. That’s exactly why.”
He sounded so wounded, it forced Rhiannon’s smile into a brutal grin. “Poor thing. How you’ve suffered so.”
“Don’t mock me, wench.” His arm slipped around her waist and pulled her over so she rested against his chest. “You seem to enjoy teasing me and I was so worried about you.”
He was worried about her? “Really?”
“Aye, Rhiannon. I feared I lost you. Especially when you went through the floor . . . it’s marble, you know. Thick, unyielding marble.”