“Nothing.” She put another gown back and headed away from the stall. Growling, Ragnar followed.

Éibhear walked up to his small group and quickly realized that it was even smaller than when he’d left. He’d only been gone for a short time.

“Where did everyone go?”

In answer, the only two remaining, Vigholf and Meinhard, grunted in reply. It was something Éibhear had been forced to get used to during his time in the Northlands. By nature, none of the Lightnings was a very talkative lot. Unless they were drinking, but that only happened at night, and to be honest, Éibhear couldn’t drink every night as most of the Northerners could. Not if he wanted to be up for training by the next suns-rise.

Yet Éibhear had spent enough time around the Lightnings to know his first mistake. He waited until the Lightnings paused shoveling food into their mouths, and then he asked, “Where’s my sister?”

“Off with Ragnar,” Meinhard replied.

“Did Ren go with them?”

“Nah. He’s over there somewhere.”

Shit. Working hard not to panic, he asked, “Do you know where Keita and Ragnar went?”

“Nah.”

“Do you know when they’ll be back?”

Vigholf chewed his food and studied Éibhear. “You questioning my brother’s honor when he’s with your sister?” Éibhear shook his head. “Oh, no, no. Not at all.” Éibhear scratched his head with the tip of his tail. “My sister, however, doesn’t really have any honor. So that might be a problem.”

The two males looked up at him, staring. Appearing faintly disgusted.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Éibhear tried to explain. “My sister is a lovely dragoness. Truly, she is. But, I fear, she may try to…well…”

“Try to what, lad? Spit it out.”

“She may try to use him”—he whispered the next word—“sexually.” The Lightnings looked at each other, and then Meinhard said to Éibhear, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you, lad.”

“You don’t understand.” Éibhear stepped closer. “My sister has a way about her…. Males become attached. Maniacally attached. After just one night with her. Sometimes just one hour. And that could be…bad. If my father has to get involved.”

“But I think they just went for a walk,” Vigholf said, looking torn between laughter and confusion.

“Right. Just walking. Maybe we could go look for them.”

“Look, lad,” Meinhard said, sounding tired, “I don’t see the problem here. They’re both adult dragons who went for a walk. And what happens on that walk is their business.”

“Right. I’m just a little concerned about inter-territorial relations.”

“You’re concerned about what?” Vigholf asked.

“Our alliance.”

“You think that’s at risk?”

“I know how this works. Something happens between them; Lord Ragnar becomes attached. Keita, however, does not. He pushes the issue.

Keita gets our father, brothers, and cousins to push back, and before anyone knows it…war.”

“From a walk?”

Meinhard waved Éibhear’s concerns away. “You’re assuming your sister wants Ragnar.”

“Well, now that a wager’s involved…” The words had slipped out before Éibhear could stop them, and he knew immediately he’d said too much. With a nod, “I’ll go look for Ren.”

He started to walk off, but both Lightnings were on either side of him, big arms looping around his neck, holding him in place.

“Now be a good lad,” Meinhard said, grinning. “And tell us all about this wager.”

Keita happily headed to one of the jewelry stalls. Gods, she loved jewelry!

“So why did you feel the need to handle the Bampour thing yourself?” Ragnar asked her.

“I was in town.” When he frowned at her reply, she held up a necklace. “What do you think?”

“I think it looks expensive.”

“A cheap one, I see.” She sighed, putting the necklace back.

“We call it thrifty in the Northlands.”

Disgusted by that word—no dragon should be cheap or “thrifty”—Keita asked, “So when you’re ready to mate, will you kidnap a female?”

“We don’t do that anymore.”

“Your father did it to me.”

“And he’s dead now. Times have changed.”

“Good.” She moved to another stall, this one filled with crystal jewelry. “Many of my female cousins will be in attendance at the feast, I’m sure, and I don’t need you and your kin trying to take off with them.” When the Northlander snorted, she stopped and faced him. “What’s so funny?”

“That you’d think we’d take off with a Cadwaladr female.”

“And why wouldn’t you?” When he raised a brow, she admitted, “All right, a few of them might be a wee bit…burly. But they have good hearts and are loyal to a fault.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Look, not everyone can be as beautiful as me—and I refuse to be attached, so you best go for what you can get.”

“How is it possible for you to be this arrogant?” Keita laughed. “And I thought you’d met my family.” While she devoured a turkey leg he’d been forced to buy for her—she’d already been eating it when she pointed out that she had no coin on her—they made their way back to the rest of their travel party.




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