Chapter 39 #2
Which matched what the tavern owner in the nearby town had told me of Malcolm's brief stay in the area. He'd taken off late, barely steady, with a bottle of whisky, and then come back for his horse reeking of smoke and looking green and terrified.
"There will be recompense," I said when Brigid remained patient and unconcerned at my side. "Showing up today to defend your own damn home doesn't count."
"Yes, Alpha. M-milord," he burst out, still struggling not to look disgusted as he deferred to me. His eyes slid nervously up to Brigid.
"Unless you'd like some justice now, my love," I said, smiling up at Brigid and winking.
Malcolm stumbled back as Brigid snorted once more, this time managing to singe the grass where he'd just stood.
I don't care about him, Brigid thought to me. Do as you see fit.
"Fair enough," I said, reaching out to pat the rough hide of her leg. "We'll discuss it later," I told Malcolm, who looked as though he was just shy of pissing himself and fainting.
He apparently had enough dignity to keep from running outright, but he did do a strange sideways retreat, too nervous to give Brigid his back.
Can we go home now? Brigid asked.
"Why don't you go back to Tylane, and I'll join you soon?"
Brigid stomped restlessly and then shook her massive head. I can feel her too. She's safe. Finish quickly.
I opened my mouth to ask her more, how she could feel Tylane, but Brigid snarled a warning down at me. Even though I knew this was my mate, I still had the sense to obey, marching forward at a slightly more relaxed pace than Malcolm Barr.
"Ow." The sound escaped me, and I flinched, ducking my head.
"Stop it," Brigid snapped at me.
I pressed my lips hard together and stifled my groan as my body started to shake with repressed laughter.
On the bed, Tylane kicked her legs in the air and let out a gassy giggle.
She'd apparently given Mairwen the lesson of a lifetime on baby dragons with wings, screaming her head off for the first hour and then managing to fly up to the rafters the second Mairwen had thought she'd calmed enough to be put to sleep.
She'd been sticky and sleepy and hungry all at once when we'd finally made it back to the keep, and Mairwen had looked like she'd been caught up in a tornado.
I suspected Ronson might have to wait a little longer for an heir.
Brigid snarled under her breath and yanked on the bandage, strangling my laugh under a fresh ache.
"Are you always this rough with patients?" I asked.
Brigid huffed and tossed her hair back to glare at me from where she was wrapping my ribs. "It's your own damn fault for not paying attention during the battle."
"I was paying attention—"
"To me!" she barked out.
I smiled at her and watched her eyes narrow to slits in warning. "Well, who could blame me, witch? You were magnificent."
Instead of her ire growing, it withered behind wet eyes and a fragile catch in her breath as she gasped out, "Torion."
Damn. I'd miscalculated.
"Oh, mate, come here now. It's all right.
I'm being a beast on purpose—you know I love when you snap at me," I said, words tumbling over one another, my worry flaring as Brigid let me bundle her into my arms without so much as a squeak of protest. "The fight wasn't so bad.
And you're right, I was distracted by you.
Damian wasn't much of a threat, and he's gone now.
No one else in Grave Hills is stupid enough to go up against me when I have you at my side. Hushhh, don't cry."
Brigid growled, but the sound hiccuped sweetly as she thumped her fist on my chest. I grit my teeth at the answering throb, and then she whimpered and soothed the spot with a touch that made all of the pain in my body go dull and distant.
"It's your own damn fault—"
"Of course it is," I agreed easily, wiping a tear off her cheek.
"—for making me so horribly, desperately, stupidly, permanently in love with you, you awful, beautiful, wonderful, perfect man," Brigid sobbed out.
I covered her ear and held her head to my shoulder so she couldn't hear my chuckle, kissing the top of her head and taking a great whiff of her.
My home. My mate. My stubborn dragon witch.
Brigid sniffled and snuggled deeper, and I stroked my fingers through the tangles of her hair, carefully unraveling them before they might pull and hurt her even the slightest bit.
"If you ever do anything to disappoint me, I will transform into my dragon and eat you," Brigid said, voice muffled and sullen.
"Good idea," I said, too outrageously happy to sound solemn.
"Don't agree with me. We both know perfectly well you never could stand to hurt me," she said, her voice going soft.
My wing was coated in a mess of herbs and a plaster bandage.
My ribs were wrapped, the rest of me was slippery with salve for bruising, and Brigid had made me rinse my mouth for the wound there, but thought it would heal faster than the rest.
She leaned out of my embrace, but only long enough to scoop Tylane up and enfold her between us, little snorts and snuffles of approval coming from our daughter.
"You can't even stand to disagree with me when I'm being unreasonable," Brigid said, kissing my jaw gently.
"You're never unreasonable," I said, entirely under her spell as usual, falling deeper as her eyes rolled.
"Silly man," she murmured, grazing her mouth over mine.
"Your man," I said, purring in a contentment too deep to feel entirely real. Tylane's head thumped to my chest to listen to the sound.
"Oh, yes," Brigid purred back. "Undeniably mine. As I am undeniably yours, mate."
We curled up together, cocooned in our wings, Brigid's stretching to cover me protectively, brilliant green with talons tipped red.
She would walk through Grave Hills as a warning to the men, and a promise to the women.
So would our daughter. I would tend Brigid's wings soon. I was sure she was sore already.
"Everything will be all right?" she asked, but it was only a hint of a question.
Still, I answered. "Everything will be well, mate. I'll make sure of it for you, and for our daughter."
Brigid sighed and softened in my arms, nodding against my shoulder. She knew I would keep my promise, and I knew she was strong enough to stand by me through every challenge we might face, to conquer them with her hand in mine. Right where she was meant to be.