Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin, #8)



Aidan found his sister where he least expected it. On the top of the battlements of Queen Annwyl’s home. In her dragon form, staring out over the land that she’d never seen before.

He landed beside her.

“I thought you’d be at Devenallt Mountain.”

Eyes closed, letting the wind blow against her face, Orla replied, “Queen Rhiannon sent me here. Don’t know why.”

“She has a good sense of things, our queen.”

“She kept Mother and the others close by, though.”

“Of course she did.”

“Will they be safe?”

“As long as they’re not stupid.”

Orla finally looked at him. “So . . . no then?”

Aidan laughed, glad his baby sister’s sense of humor hadn’t left her completely.

“You’ll be safe here, Orla,” he promised her.

“But you’re not staying. Are you?”

“I can’t. Not now.”

“And Father?”

Aidan blew out a breath. “With the dwarves. I guess. I don’t know if we’ll see him again. At the very least, we probably won’t see him for a while.”

She shrugged. “He never liked me anyway.”

“You will stay here, won’t you?”

“Where would I go?” she asked forlornly.

Aidan nodded in agreement before noting, “Your darkness is magnificent, by the way.”

“It is a lost art.” She gave what some might call a very small smile. “Cheeky bastard.”





Gaius was on his bed, letting his sister know he’d be home soon and to get the vote from the Senate so the legions would be ready to move as soon as he was there, when Kachka walked into the room, slamming the door behind her.

“What is wrong with you?” she demanded.

“So many things, actually. Yet my handsome face and strong nature make it all meaningless.”

“My sister thinks we are bonded now.”

“We are. Just admit it.”

“I will admit nothing. But I will especially not admit that.”

“So,” Gaius said, choosing his words very carefully, “you’re saying you’re not strong enough to love me?”

Kachka, her hand on the doorknob, froze. “What?”

“Well, to bond yourself with a dragon in a world that looks down on that sort of thing . . . takes a special kind of strength.”

She faced him again, shaking her head. “You manipulate like a royal,” she accused.

“No, Kachka. I manipulate like a king.” Gaius slipped off the bed, eased his way around her. “A war king. Imagine that. Imagine what we can do together during this war. The Rebel King and the Scourge of the Gods.”

Behind her now, Gaius leaned in, nuzzled her ear, slid his hands around her waist.

“Duke Salebiri and his fanatics will loathe and fear us in equal measure.”

“I will take no orders from you. I will let no male rule me. Dragon or otherwise.”

“I don’t want to rule you. We work together. A team.”

“Eh,” she grunted, clearly not happy with that description.

“At least try it.”

“Fine. As long as we understand each other.”

“We understand each other perfectly.”

Gaius kissed her neck, stroked her hair. He’d begun easing her toward the bed when the door opened and Keita swept in, several multicolored eye patches in her hands.

“Look what I have for you, King Gaius!”

Kachka spun out of Gaius’s arms and slammed her hands against the She-dragon’s chest, shoving her back into the hallway.

“Away with you, female!”

“Rude cow!”

Kachka slammed the door in Keita’s face and threw the bolt down.

She then shoved Gaius toward the bed while snarling, “I should have killed that She-dragon the first time she suggested my sister wear a dress.”

“See, Kachka Shestakova?” Gaius said, falling back on the bed and happily watching her yank down his leather leggings. “We are perfect together.”





Epilogue


The arguing had been going on for almost three hours now. A few fights had broken out.

L?titia had seen this coming. Had warned Aggie to be prepared. She’d been right. Senator Tyrus Gabinius of the House of Gabinius—an important human family—had ranted and raved about sending out their legions. The fight had started on Southland territory—why was that a problem for them?

And, as in all politics, Tyrus had those loyal to him. So the Senate was now divided. Many were for sending out legions before Salebiri became too big to fight. The others disagreed strongly.

Aggie, however, was about at the end of her tether. Her brother might enjoy all this back-and-forth, but she didn’t. Not when the stakes were this high.

She glanced to her left. The Mì-runach who protected her stood close to her chair. It wasn’t called a throne, but that’s what it was. And, like any monarch would be, she was tempted to unleash them on all these idiots.

A bad decision, she knew, but still . . . the temptation was definitely there.

Aggie gave the dispute another thirty minutes before she was utterly and completely done.

G.A. Aiken's books