Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin, #8)

Brigida snorted and flicked the fingers of her free hand, sending the witch flipping across the room and slamming into the wall—where Brigida left her hanging.

“I knew from the way me grandniece reacted to you that you were one of the Dark Soul witches. With your hell gods and soul stealing.” Brigida laughed. “I mean, that girl loves everybody. Even me. But not you.”

Brigida yanked the blade from her chest and made her slow way across the cavern. “I’ve been alive for a very long time,” she told the witch as she struggled in vain to free herself. “And I done that by being one of the meanest bitches on the planet. And no little Rider girl, not even four hundred years yet, is going to fuck with me.”

Standing in front of the witch, Brigida smiled up at her. “But I want to make sure you understand what I’m telling you.”

Brigida rammed the blade into the witch’s thigh, quickly silencing her screams with a thought.

“Now, see . . . could’ve put that blade right back in your chest. Could have cut your throat too. Didn’t, though. Maybe you think I just like torturing ya. And true. I do a bit. Because I am an evil bitch, yeah? An’ evil bitches like to torture. But that’s not why I’m keeping you alive, little Rider.”

Brigida shook her head. “I know what you’re planning. Get far from the Outerplains. Get them other Riders on their own. Kill them while they sleep and take their souls. I know you’re planning this . . . ’cause I would have done the same thing—a few hundred years back. But you’re not going to do that this time.”

She waved her hand, releasing the witch, letting her drop hard to the ground.

“Get up,” she sneered. “You gonna be an evil bitch, you’ve got to be ready to suffer for the privilege.”

The witch yanked the blade from her leg and snarled, “What do you want from me, old cunt?”

“You want to keep worshipping your dark gods and stealing your souls, little Rider? Want to be as powerful as me one day? Then your job is working with these Riders.”

“We do not even know what we are doing. How do you?”

“Don’t ask me stupid questions. Just do what I tell you.”

“And if I don’t?”

Brigida yanked the blade out of the witch’s hand and rammed it into her other thigh.

“Motherfucker!”

Brigida smiled. “That’s what.”





“What is your name, little boy?”

Talan glanced over at the giantess next to him. She was leering at him in a way he was entirely uncomfortable with!

“Talan. Prince Talan. Beloved son of Annwyl the Bloody.”

I can’t believe you’re using Mum, his sister laughed in his head.

Do you see the size of this woman? She could twist me into a braided loaf of bread.

Have some dignity!

If you’re not going to help—fuck off.

“Has she already promised you to another?”

Talan blinked. “Pardon?”

“Polite. My girls will like that.”

Rhi, who’d been pacing in front of them and wringing her hands, snapped, “Why did Kachka bring that witch woman here? What was she thinking?”

“When did you and Kachka Shestakova become such good friends?” Talwyn asked, uncaring about her brother’s current plight—as always! “If memory serves, she called you either the Brown One or the Weeper. Neither of which sounded like compliments to me.”

Rhi stopped pacing and faced Talan. “The woman is evil. We need to kill her.”

“The first time you dislike someone,” Talwyn asked, “and you want to kill her? When did you turn into my mother?”

“Your mother is a saint!”

Talwyn glanced at Talan, widened her eyes a bit, and mouthed, Wow.

“I think we all need to calm down,” Talan soothed before he turned to the giant next to him and barked, “And stop petting my hair!”

“It is so pretty. My daughters will like your pretty hair.”

“Look, I don’t know how things are run in the Outerplains, but I’m a Southlander and we choose our own mates.”

“Who would be foolish enough to let such a pretty boy choose his own wife?”

Yeah? his sister asked in his head. Who?

“You need Zoya to get sturdy woman for you. One of my younger girls would be happy to make you first husband.”

“Leave the pretty boy alone, Zoya,” one of the other Riders admonished.

“I promised my daughters I would bring them strong boys to make their husbands. He is good start, yes?”

Do something!

Rolling her eyes, Talwyn finally came over.

“Back away from him, female,” she said.

“And who are you?” the giant demanded. “No one! I am Zoya Kolesova of the Mountain Movers of the Lands of Pain in the Far Reaches of the Steppes of the Outerplains! You are no one but some Southlander bitch who dresses like Kyvich witch.”

Talwyn’s head tilted to the side. “Mountain Movers? Seriously?”

“Is this you helping me?” Talan wanted to know.

“But come on, Talan! Don’t you want to know if they actually moved mountains?”

“No!”

“Is no one else concerned about that woman?” Rhi screeched.

The twins shook their heads. “No.”

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