The female stared at the queen for several long moments until her fist suddenly came down on the empty seat beside her, decimating it in the process. She was up and near the queen when another male went around the big desk and cut between the two females.
“No, Ghleanna. No, no, no, no, no.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her back.
Looking over the man’s shoulder, the female pointed a damning finger at the queen. “You may rule these lands, Rhiannon the White, but you do not rule my family!”
“Everything belongs to me. Everything!”
“That is enough!” The idiot dragon stood up. “Enough.” He looked at the short-haired female. “Mum”—Oh, that’s his mother—“I’m an adult. She’s my queen. I follow her orders. Not yours.” He looked at Queen Rhiannon and nodded his head. “And I will be happy to escort her . . .” He gestured at Elina with a flip of his hand. “. . . to wherever.”
“My name you do not know,” Elina accused.
“It’s impossibly long! What do you want from me?”
“Respect! But I do not think you understand word, worthless one!”
“Keep in mind, She of the Impossibly Long Name, that I am your protection. You might want to be nice to me.”
“Nice to dragon who forgets woman he takes to prison?”
“Would you let that go?”
“No! I will never let that go!”
“Fine! Suit yourself! And would you stop laughing!” he bellowed at the younger dark-haired female who also looked just like him. God, how many of these dragons who could become human were there?
The younger female, who hadn’t been laughing, merely smiling, shrugged at Elina. And when the dragon turned away, she pointed at her head and mouthed, He’s crazy.
Yes. Elina, sadly, could see that.
Chapter Eight
Elina watched the people or dragons or whatever they were walk out of the room. No one said anything to her. She seemed to cease to exist once the rude dragon had agreed to travel with her.
Deciding it was probably best to get moving now rather than wait a day, Elina turned toward the door . . . only to find the rude bastard standing between her and the exit.
“What now?” she demanded, glaring up at him. Good thing her people were tall, because these dragons when human . . .
“We’re not leaving tonight,” he told her. Ordered her, really.
“Will we not?”
“We will leave in the morning. Be ready to go at daybreak.”
“And what do I do until then?”
“Manage to stay alive? That would be great.”
Without another word, he walked out.
Elina stared at the open doorway. It had been a long time since she’d disliked someone so much. Especially a male. Like most Daughters of the Steppes, she’d been taught that men served three purposes—breeding, child rearing, and trash removal. She needed no one’s protection. She’d gotten here alive, hadn’t she?
But she had to remember that the dragon was not her problem or priority. She had a task she needed to accomplish and she’d committed to that. And it was a task she would truly enjoy doing, unlike the task that had brought her here.
Confident that she could tolerate the dragon until she reached her homelands, Elina headed to the doorway.
She stepped into the hall but took a quick step back when two females suddenly moved in front of her. Both wore chain mail and had weapons hanging from belts around their waists and strapped to their backs. Many in Elina’s tribe would love for her to look this much like a warrior and be able to back up that battle-ready appearance. But she really had no desire to be a warmonger. It simply was not in her blood.
The one with short black hair and black eyes, who seemed to be the sister of the rude dragon, smiled at Elina. “Hi.”
Elina gave a typical Rider greeting. “Hope death finds you well today.”
“Um . . . okay.” She cleared her throat. “I’m Branwen. This is Izzy.”
“Elina Shestakova of the Black Bear Riders of the—”
“Yes, yes. We got that. Earlier. Your . . . extensive name.”
“Have you come to kill me?” Elina asked.
“Uh . . . no.”
“Then move.”
They did, and Elina stepped between them and began walking. She studied the castle as she walked. There were beautiful tapestries on the walls. Some depicting battles. She stopped to look closely at one and realized the two females were still behind her.
She faced them and asked, “Do you fear I still plan to kill your Dragon Queen?”
“Surprisingly, no,” the one called Branwen replied.
“So you follow because you find me attractive? Sadly, for you,” she went on honestly, “I do not desire females. But there are many in my tribe who do. I can introduce you. You can become one of their many wives.”
“What? No.”
“There is no shame. Many of our tribes are made up of only females. They do not like men. They do not like cocks. They only like the pussy.”
“No, no, no,” Branwen quickly corrected. “We like the cocks.”
The brown-skinned woman, Izzy, suddenly turned to her comrade. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know. But she’s completely freaking me out! I think it was that greeting. Who says hello like that?”
“If death does not find you well,” Elina explained, “he will take you. So we hope he finds you well.”
“No, Ghleanna. No, no, no, no, no.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her back.
Looking over the man’s shoulder, the female pointed a damning finger at the queen. “You may rule these lands, Rhiannon the White, but you do not rule my family!”
“Everything belongs to me. Everything!”
“That is enough!” The idiot dragon stood up. “Enough.” He looked at the short-haired female. “Mum”—Oh, that’s his mother—“I’m an adult. She’s my queen. I follow her orders. Not yours.” He looked at Queen Rhiannon and nodded his head. “And I will be happy to escort her . . .” He gestured at Elina with a flip of his hand. “. . . to wherever.”
“My name you do not know,” Elina accused.
“It’s impossibly long! What do you want from me?”
“Respect! But I do not think you understand word, worthless one!”
“Keep in mind, She of the Impossibly Long Name, that I am your protection. You might want to be nice to me.”
“Nice to dragon who forgets woman he takes to prison?”
“Would you let that go?”
“No! I will never let that go!”
“Fine! Suit yourself! And would you stop laughing!” he bellowed at the younger dark-haired female who also looked just like him. God, how many of these dragons who could become human were there?
The younger female, who hadn’t been laughing, merely smiling, shrugged at Elina. And when the dragon turned away, she pointed at her head and mouthed, He’s crazy.
Yes. Elina, sadly, could see that.
Chapter Eight
Elina watched the people or dragons or whatever they were walk out of the room. No one said anything to her. She seemed to cease to exist once the rude dragon had agreed to travel with her.
Deciding it was probably best to get moving now rather than wait a day, Elina turned toward the door . . . only to find the rude bastard standing between her and the exit.
“What now?” she demanded, glaring up at him. Good thing her people were tall, because these dragons when human . . .
“We’re not leaving tonight,” he told her. Ordered her, really.
“Will we not?”
“We will leave in the morning. Be ready to go at daybreak.”
“And what do I do until then?”
“Manage to stay alive? That would be great.”
Without another word, he walked out.
Elina stared at the open doorway. It had been a long time since she’d disliked someone so much. Especially a male. Like most Daughters of the Steppes, she’d been taught that men served three purposes—breeding, child rearing, and trash removal. She needed no one’s protection. She’d gotten here alive, hadn’t she?
But she had to remember that the dragon was not her problem or priority. She had a task she needed to accomplish and she’d committed to that. And it was a task she would truly enjoy doing, unlike the task that had brought her here.
Confident that she could tolerate the dragon until she reached her homelands, Elina headed to the doorway.
She stepped into the hall but took a quick step back when two females suddenly moved in front of her. Both wore chain mail and had weapons hanging from belts around their waists and strapped to their backs. Many in Elina’s tribe would love for her to look this much like a warrior and be able to back up that battle-ready appearance. But she really had no desire to be a warmonger. It simply was not in her blood.
The one with short black hair and black eyes, who seemed to be the sister of the rude dragon, smiled at Elina. “Hi.”
Elina gave a typical Rider greeting. “Hope death finds you well today.”
“Um . . . okay.” She cleared her throat. “I’m Branwen. This is Izzy.”
“Elina Shestakova of the Black Bear Riders of the—”
“Yes, yes. We got that. Earlier. Your . . . extensive name.”
“Have you come to kill me?” Elina asked.
“Uh . . . no.”
“Then move.”
They did, and Elina stepped between them and began walking. She studied the castle as she walked. There were beautiful tapestries on the walls. Some depicting battles. She stopped to look closely at one and realized the two females were still behind her.
She faced them and asked, “Do you fear I still plan to kill your Dragon Queen?”
“Surprisingly, no,” the one called Branwen replied.
“So you follow because you find me attractive? Sadly, for you,” she went on honestly, “I do not desire females. But there are many in my tribe who do. I can introduce you. You can become one of their many wives.”
“What? No.”
“There is no shame. Many of our tribes are made up of only females. They do not like men. They do not like cocks. They only like the pussy.”
“No, no, no,” Branwen quickly corrected. “We like the cocks.”
The brown-skinned woman, Izzy, suddenly turned to her comrade. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know. But she’s completely freaking me out! I think it was that greeting. Who says hello like that?”
“If death does not find you well,” Elina explained, “he will take you. So we hope he finds you well.”
