Meinhard only had a chance for a short laugh before he was dodging that boulder his own blood had chucked at his and Vigholf’s heads.
To Keita’s eternal surprise, the warlord didn’t complain at all when she and Ren eventually returned from the city. They’d taken their time walking back, planning out how they’d handle the next step in their search for Esyld. Yet the warlord said nothing. Nor did his brother or cousin. And, of course, all Éibhear cared about were the new books she’d brought with her from Gorlas’s store.
“Aw, Keita. You’re the best!” Éibhear said, grinning at her.
“Sorry about coming back so late,” Keita sweetly offered while removing her fur cape and silk gown so she could shift.
“Not a problem,” Ragnar grumbled back, shocking her.
“What?” Keita was sure she’d heard incorrectly.
“I said not a problem. We’ve already camped for the night.” Then he walked off, leaving her standing there, utterly confused. So Keita grabbed Ren’s hair and yanked him close.
“Ow!”
“What’s he up to?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. Probably nothing. And unleash me, female!” She did. “What do you mean ‘probably nothing’?”
“Probably nothing.”
Now her eyes had narrowed on Ren. “What do you know?”
“In what sense?”
“In…what? Don’t toy with me, Ren of the Chosen.”
“You won’t like it.”
“I don’t care.”
He moved her farther away from the group. “He followed us into town this afternoon.”
“He did what?”
“Don’t worry. There was nothing for him to see, and if he asks, you were in a nice, clean, boring bookstore and I was getting that necklace evaluated.”
“But how dare he follow me?”
“Let it go, Keita.”
“Like one of the hells, I will.” And with that Keita followed Ragnar out to the nearby lake.
He sat on his haunches by the water’s edge, gazing across the placid surface. But he wasn’t alone.
She stood just behind him for rather a long time before his entire body tensed.
“Sneaking up on me, princess?” he asked.
“Didn’t realize I had,” she lied. As her mother had pointed out on more than one occasion when startled by Keita, “sneaky as a snake, that one.”
Keita moved up alongside him. “Are you aware there’s a black bird on your head?” she asked.
He turned his gaze to her.
“Yes,” he replied. “A crow. And I’m aware.”
“Did it mistake you for a statue?”
“No.”
She watched both dragon and bird a bit longer before asking, “Are you going to leave him up there?”
“He’s not causing me any bother.”
“But you have a bird on your head.”
“Yes. We’ve established this. Although I don’t know why that surprises you so. You seem to have your own entourage.” When Keita frowned, he motioned behind her. Keita glanced at what nuzzled her tail. “Oh. Them.”
“Yes. Them. Do packs of wolves often follow you around?”
“Just the males.”
“Pardon?”
She smiled. “What can I say? Males love me. Every breed, every species. It’s not my fault. I do nothing to lure them, but they come anyway.” Shaking his head a little, Ragnar coldly replied, “I see.” When he said nothing else, Keita thought about pushing for more information but decided against it. She didn’t like the warlord’s mood. It made her uncomfortable. She didn’t like to feel uncomfortable. “Éibhear says dinner will be soon,” she offered, turning away from him to head back to camp.
“Tell me something, princess.”
Keita stopped.
“What were you doing in the Northlands when my father found you?”
The question threw Keita off because she hadn’t been expecting it.
Two years ago she’d expected it, but not now. Not here. And what in all the hells did that have to do with him following her into Fenella?
Keita smiled, tossing her hair off her face. “Just being rebellious. You know how mothers and daughters can be.”
“There are too few daughters in the north for parents to afford alienating them, but I have some idea. Still,” he went on when she took another step away, “it was a risk. Wasn’t it? Being in enemy territory?” This dragon was digging, and Keita was in no mood to give him what he wanted. So she did what she always did best when she wanted to throw someone off….
She became sneaky as a snake.
Ragnar didn’t know what appalled him more at the moment. That a royal would involve herself with spies—most likely out of pure boredom—or that she’d been wagering on his cock? Perhaps he was appalled by both.
What kind of royal spent her time trying to seduce males for sport when she wasn’t visiting spy guilds in nearby cities? One not worthy of the loyalty and lust she seemed to have earned from Ragnar’s idiot brother and idiot cousin.
Keita’s claw slid across Ragnar’s chest, the talons scraping against his scales. Startled, Ragnar jumped a little, his bird visitor flitting off to the trees. Leaving Ragnar alone—with her.
“Princess—”
She brushed her head under his chin and nuzzled his neck. “What is it you want from me, Lord Ragnar?” she asked, her voice husky. “You ask so many questions, but I don’t know what you want. Or perhaps I’m merely being difficult. Perhaps I want you to drag the information from me.” She went up on the tips of her back talons, her snout brushing against his throat, her voice whispering in his ear. “Perhaps it would be better for both of us if you’d tie me up—and make me give you the answers. Or chains,” she purred, a little breathless. “Imagine what we could do with a few hours alone and chains.”