I’ve been flying most of my life so it’s not as interesting to me as it seems to be to you.”
“You take your gifts for granted, dragon.”
“As do you.”
“And what gifts do I have exactly? The ability to have my own brother trying to kill me?”
“The ability to inspire hardened warriors to follow you into battle. I know few who have such a gift as that.”
Annwyl shrugged. “They were desperate. No one else knows much about my brother.”
“If they were desperate, they would have sent you back to him with a ribbon around your head.”
Annwyl smiled at the dragon. He possessed the uncanny ability to make her feel as if she could challenge the entire world and win. And after a long day of being thrown on her back and told her rage would only get her killed, it was nice to come back to the lair and have the dragon make her feel like she was worth something.
She sat down on his front claw, leaning back against his forearm. She let out a deep, contented breath and felt her sore body begin to relax. She put her hands behind her head and looked off into the dark cavern, amazed at the size of the dragon’s home.
With mild sarcasm, “Comfortable?”
She wiggled her rear against his scales. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I’m quite comfortable, thank you.” She let his chuckle wash over her and her body relaxed even more.
“Annwyl?”
“Aye?”
“Did you get those marks on your back from your brother?”
Annwyl didn’t even have to look to know which marks he spoke of. There were scars from battle all over her body. But the ones her dragon spoke of were brutal whip marks that covered her back. Those scars had belonged to her for more years than she could remember.
“No.” Annwyl cleared her throat, and she admitted something to the dragon that she never admitted to anyone ever before. “I got these from my father.” She still hated the man. Even though he had been dead for so many years, she still hated him. She lowered her arms and laid her hands in her lap. “My brother has the same marks. One of the few things we have in common.”
Annwyl didn’t even realize at first that she clasped her hands together. Clasping them so tightly that the knuckles had gone white. Then the dragon placed two of his talons against them, and she realized that only her father ever caused her to feel this way. She closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. She’d shed enough tears over that bastard. She would shed no more.
She opened her eyes when the dragon stretched himself out and crossed his forearms over each other. He adjusted her so she rested in the crook of his forearm, his claws ensconcing her safely. He lowered his head until it rested over her outstretched legs. She stared at him for several long moments. His eyes closed; he didn’t make any further moves. She realized he wanted her to feel safe. And she did. He was giving her his strength, his power, his protection. She didn’t fear the razor-sharp talons that laid so close to her body or the mighty head with all its dangerous fangs. She didn’t fear Fearghus the Destroyer at all. She marveled at the feeling. The feeling of being safe. It seemed strange to feel neither fear nor rage. As new a feeling to her as her desires for the knight. And, she had to admit, she liked both. That two different beings could introduce her to such opposite emotions shocked her to her very core. No matter what happened, both dragon and man would forever share a place in her heart.
Annwyl reached out her hand and brushed her fingertips lightly over the scales on his snout. She let her hand rest there as she closed her eyes and leaned back.
She had no idea how long they stayed like that, but when she finally couldn’t stifle a yawn any longer, Fearghus spoke up. “You’d best get to bed, Lady Annwyl.”
“Aye.” Annwyl pulled her legs out from under the dragon and stood up, shaking off the pins and needles that ran through them. “That demon knight you’ve trapped me with is quite the task master.” His head still remained close, so she bent down and kissed the dragon on his black snout. “Good night, Lord Dragon. And thank you.”
“For what?”
She smiled. “For nothing at all. Which is exactly what I needed.”
Annwyl walked past him to get back to her chamber. As she left she couldn’t help but slide her hand across his leathery wings and the scales of his body.
Fearghus closed his eyes as her hand swept across his body. Something she did almost every night now before going to bed. Although he didn’t expect her to kiss him. It took all his strength to not shift right then and there. To kiss her back as he wanted to. To do what he could to take away her pain over a cruel father and a sadistic brother.
His sister was right, of course. Unforgivable brat. He did long for the girl. Longed to make her his own. But the reason she felt so comfortable with him was because he was not a man. From men she’d only known pain and abuse. Yet a dragon protected her. Cared for her. Saved her life.
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