Light My Fire. G.A. Aiken

      “Rabbits?”

      “Aye! Rabbits. They love me, too.”

      His sister smirked. “Only because you don’t eat them. Because you equate dragons eating rabbits with humans eating rats. . . . It’s beneath you.”

      Celyn glared at his sister. “They still love me.”

      Izzy perched herself on the footboard of the bed, long arms wrapped around even longer legs. “It may not be that bad.”

      “She threw a pint at my head.”

      “Nailed him, too,” Brannie unnecessarily added.

      “She was upset,” Izzy reasoned. “Women do not like to be forgotten about. It insults us.”

      “She wasn’t my bloody responsibility.”

      “She is now,” Brannie muttered, but when Celyn glared at her, she quickly turned her eyes to the ceiling.

      “I only did this because my parents think I’m Fal.”

      “No, they do not! Who told you such a despicable thing?” Izzy turned to Brannie. “Why would you tell your brother such a despicable thing?”

      With a roll of her eyes, Brannie admitted, “Mum and Da don’t think of you as Fal. He’s a failure at life all on his own.”

      “But they clearly didn’t want me to go. Why?”

      Brannie shrugged. “You talk too much.”

      “What?”

      “You ask too many questions. ‘Why are we doing this? Where are we going now? Is all this armor really necessary? Why do you insist on yelling at me? Do all humans smell like you?’ It’s bloody endless.”

      “I’m curious is all. Is there something wrong with that?”

      “Yes. When you constantly ask questions.”

      “It’s not like I ask them during battle.”

      “No. But you do ask them constantly every other time.” Brannie gave another shrug. “I think Mum and Da were worried you’d end up getting killed by the troop leaders. Or you’d cause a war. But Uncle Bercelak refused to have your talents wasted. So you were assigned to Rhiannon’s protection guard.”

      “Wait. Are you telling me that’s it? That was their big problem?”

      “Aye. They don’t want you to go anywhere because you’re good at protecting Rhiannon and she doesn’t get violently annoyed by your constant chattiness. Unlike every soldier in our battalions.”

      “Are you telling me that I’ve attached myself to that Rider female because of this?”

      “Looks like it!” Brannie’s head flew back from the pillow Celyn winged at her. “What was that for?”

      “I’m now trapped with this vile little female because of you!”

      Brannie giggled. “Yeah. I know.”

      The bedroom door opened again and Éibhear’s giant bulk filled the open space, completely blocking out the light from the hallway.

      Silver eyes searched the room before he said, “Oh . . . you’re in here, Izzy.”

      “I am,” Izzy said. “Why don’t you join us? We’re just chatting.”

      In answer, Éibhear grunted. Like a bull. Reminding Celyn they still weren’t very close.

      Many years ago, Celyn’s relationship with Izzy had come between Celyn and Éibhear. But Celyn’s logic at the time had been if the blue idiot was going to pass up his chance at a woman like Iseabail the Dangerous, that was his bad decision. Why Éibhear insisted on blaming Celyn for his own shitty decision-making skills, Celyn would never know.

      Celyn had actually loved Izzy at that time. But it had been a young love. Both of them just figuring out what they would want from their mates one day; and something Celyn refused to ever regret no matter how much Izzy’s adoptive kin made their own blood cousin suffer for it.

      Besides, from their temporary passion had grown a great friendship. One that meant more to him than he’d ever thought it would.

      And yet . . . Celyn wasn’t above using his past with Izzy to get what he wanted now. And what he wanted now was to get that ridiculous female out of his life. For good. Without worrying about listening to that speech from Bercelak about “making commitments and sticking with them.”

      “You know what’s going on here, don’t you, Éibhear?” Celyn asked his cousin.

      The giant dragon—gods! Éibhear was so bloody huge as human—locked those silver eyes on Celyn. “What’s going on?” he grumbled.

      “Yeah,” Izzy asked, confused, “what’s going on?”

      “I’m trying to get Izzy back, you know? It won’t take much. I was the best she ever had.”

      “What the battle-fuck are you doing?” Brannie demanded, her eyes wide in panic. Izzy didn’t look much better, both of them clearly remembering the beating Celyn had received all those years ago when Éibhear had found out that Celyn had been sleeping with Izzy.

      Unable to face his own feelings about Izzy, Éibhear had lashed out. And it was, honestly, the worst beating Celyn had ever taken. But he knew if he’d survived that—which he obviously had—he could survive bloody anything because his cousin had wanted him dead that day. And, as a Cadwaladr, Éibhear would have been allowed to kill Celyn because it had been a “proper challenge.” Among their clan, “proper challenges” were allowed and expected. And if one of their kin died because of it . . . oh, well. That was just the way of things.

      Éibhear studied Celyn for a long moment, his eyes narrowing, his entire, big body tense and ready to attack. But then, one side of his mouth lifted. It was almost a smile.

      “Forget it,” Éibhear said, and Celyn pushed himself off the bed.

      “Come on,” Celyn implored. “Be a lad!”

      “Not on your life! You’re stuck with that morbid little bitch. She’s your problem now.”

      “Izzy’s still in love with me. She’s never loved you. She’s just using you to get me jealous.”

      Éibhear threw back his big head and laughed. “That pale bitch is better revenge, cousin, than beating the shit out of you was that first time. And watching her make you miserable will bring me such joy.” He scratched Celyn’s head as if he were a small child. “Absolute joy.”

      “You’re a bastard.”

      “Good luck on your trip to the Outerplains. Best bring something warm. I hear those Steppes are surprisingly chilly.” Laughing, Éibhear walked out.

      “You bastard! Ow!” Celyn covered the spot on the back of his head where Brannie slapped him and faced his sister. “What was that for?”

      “Have you gone mad?” Brannie demanded. “He’s a bloody Mì-runach!” she reminded him. And Brannie had a point. The Mì-runach were feared for a good reason.

      But none of that mattered when Celyn was desperate.

      “He could have torn you apart in seconds,” Brannie went on.

      “But he didn’t even try, did he?” Celyn sadly complained.

      “Are you really so desperate over one human girl that you’d actually goad Éibhear the Contemptible into a fight you couldn’t possibly win just so you could be too wounded to leave?” Izzy asked, shaking her head in disgust.

      “I suffered a beating before,” Celyn reminded her. “For our love.”

      Izzy rolled her eyes and walked away while Brannie sneered, “You are pathetic.”

      A