Dragon Actually

She took a deep breath and pulled out of his grasp. “She will make you choose, Bercelak. I know you don’t believe it. But trust me on this.”

With one sad, long look at him that completely destroyed his heart, she turned and walked off. Back to the castle and the safety of his kin.

Rhiannon sat on the slanted ledge outside her room, staring out over the battlements of Ailean’s castle and lands as the two suns faded to make room for the night. All that kept her from falling was her sturdy foothold on the slats.

She wondered what she’d do next. Wondered where this particular path was going. She knew now she loved Bercelak. She knew it because she’d risked her life for him and because seeing the hurt look on his face had ripped the heart from her feeble human chest. She loved him, but she could only bring him pain. Her mother would make sure of that. Gods, how she hated that female. Her own mother. No matter what humans thought, dragons were not the godless creatures they believed her kind to be. They loved, they despaired. They felt joy and pain. They experienced all those things humans thought only their kind could feel.

For more than eighty years, Rhiannon had cut off her heart. She didn’t allow herself to feel much of anything, but still her mother found a way to hurt her. Not really surprising, though, since only a mother knew how to truly hurt or enhance children. Where Bercelak’s mother always had a kind word or a soft touch for her lawless brood, Addiena only had derision and complaint for hers.

Rhiannon didn’t realize how much she’d missed having her mother’s love until she came here. Until she watched Bercelak’s kin with each other.

Part of her wanted to hate them. Hate them for giving her hope she could one day feel as safe as they all did. That one day, she’d have a family that fought and screamed and generally annoyed each other nearly to death, but who still loved and protected each other as if it were their right.

But no . . . she’d never have that. She’d never have that life.

She sighed and debated whether to go back in when Maelona screamed, “Don’t jump!” It startled her and Rhiannon felt her body slip on the smooth tiles, her balance gone. She slid down, her hands scrabbling for something to grab onto. Her human body would never survive this fall and she had no idea how to stop herself without wings.

Her legs flailed over the side of the ledge and she slid into nothingness.

Bercelak, leaning back in his father’s favorite chair, took the goblet of wine his mother offered him. He glanced at her and she smiled.

“Don’t worry. It’s not your father’s. It’s mine.”

Nodding, he took a long drink.

Her hand slid over his face, cupping his jaw. It was something she did often because she could.

“Mother?”

“Hhmm?”

“Have you ever regretted being with my father?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that question?”

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.” She sat down at the table across from him, her hands sliding through her gold hair. “That is not an easy question to answer, my son. At least not to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not as easily put off as your kin.” She gave a delicate shrug. “Look, there are sacrifices all mates must make for each other. And you do it willingly because you love them.”

“You hate spending so much time being human, don’t you?”

She was quiet for a long moment, then said, “I miss my cave. I miss my privacy. I’ve learned to tolerate this body because . . .” She gave a soft smile and her son held his hand up.

“I understand.” If there was one thing he and the rest of the universe knew about his father was that the bastard knew how to pleasure a female. But Ailean took special delight in exploring a woman’s body. “So you have given up much.”

“No. I still have my cave. I go there when your father leaves for war or to travel. When I’m alone, I am always dragon and I revel in it. But nothing, absolutely nothing brings me as much joy as your father.”

“He’s loud and obnoxious.”

“He’s hilarious and passionate and your father.”

“More’s the pity.”

His mother’s hand slamming down hard on the oak table caused Bercelak to jump even though Bercelak didn’t jump . . . ever.

“Your father loves you, brat. He would die to protect you and only wants you to be happy. I never saw a dragon look as proud as he did the day he saw your frowning face look up at him first time. Even then he knew you were special. Different. So don’t think for a second that you can dismiss him, and definitely don’t think you can put him down to me. I won’t tolerate it.”

Bercelak bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

He heard his mother take in a deep breath. Then another. Finally, she said, “It’s all right. I know you’re frustrated and unsure what to do. But I know you’ll do the right thing.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The study door opened and his father walked in, stopping short as soon as he saw the pair of them looking so serious.

“Oh, sorry. I’m not . . . uh . . . interrupting something that will make me uncomfortable, am I?”

Shalin laughed. “No, you old bear. You’re not. Just talking with our hatchling.”

Ailean nodded his head. “Good. Good.” He walked up to his mate, but spoke to his son. “Nice work with those soldiers out there, by the way.”