“Rhona?”
She leaned over, her hands stil clutching her spear.
“I think there’s more,” he told her.
She blinked, then quickly examined the one stil hanging from her weapon. “Shit and piss . . . I was right.”
“Right about what?”
“This is the baby.” She retracted her weapon and took off running. “You better come on!” Vigholf bolted after her, ignoring the angry sounds coming from behind him. Rhona raced through caverns and passageways, the only thing leading them both the scent of fresh air. When they final y saw the way out, they hurtled toward the exit together, diving through it and out into the much safer world of rain and painful lightning.
“Vigholf!” she ordered. “Close it!”
Vigholf turned, his eyes briefly widening at the size of the head he could see slithering forward, mouth gaping open to unleash more of that venom. Having no desire to experience that, he unleashed his lightning on the rocky area above. Boulders crashed down, blocking the cavern, but it didn’t stop the scream of rage that fol owed.
Panting, the pair looked at each other and then over to a nearby tree.
“You two,” Vigholf accused the horses. “Leaving us to die. You couldn’t give us a little warning? ” The female at least had the good graces to look away, but the male sneered at him. Again!
And Vigholf was marching over there, his fists raised to teach the rude bastard some manners, when Rhona caught his arm, pul ed him back.
“Can we fight about this later? It’s not like those boulders are going to stop her for long, and I’d rather not be here when she final y digs her way out.”
“Yeah. Al right.” But he pointed a warning finger at the stal ion. “But this isn’t over!” Rhona rol ed her eyes before she mounted the mare. “I swear, the both of you—pathetic.” The stal ion al owed Vigholf to mount him, but Vigholf knew he wasn’t happy about it.
Even though it was stil raining quite hard, they rode off, leaving the cave and that damn wyvern behind. But after about fifteen minutes the rain let up, then stopped completely. Soaking wet, but not minding too much because he was stil alive and not covered in green venom, Vigholf rode alongside Rhona. After a while he had to admit to her, “You were amazing in there.”
“In where?”
“In the cave. With the wyvern. Have you fought them before?”
“No, but Mum has. So has my father. They have a lot of them in some of the caverns in the Black Mountains.”
“Wel . . . you handled al that bril iantly.”
“You sound surprised.”
“We were trapped in a cave with an animal you never fought, that you’d only heard about from your parents, and yet you knew just what to do, and you knew quickly. That’s impressive, Rhona. I know I wouldn’t have handled it as wel if you hadn’t been there.”
“I’ve seen you handle the unexpected, Vigholf. You would have done fine on your own.” She stopped the mare and Vigholf halted the stal ion. “But your words mean much to me. Thank you.”
He shrugged, feeling a bit foolish. “I merely note what I see. Nothing more.”
“It’s more to me,” she said.
And, no longer feeling foolish, Vigholf moved the stal ion closer until they were side by side.
Vigholf reached out and stroked Rhona’s cheek. She tensed, her eyes blinking wide in surprise. She’d had the same expression when she first saw the wyvern. A look of panic she was desperately trying to control.
He should stop. He should pul back and they should ride on. There was so much going on in their world, they didn’t have time for any of this.
But the honest truth of it was he couldn’t help himself. Not with those beautiful brown eyes watching him.
Vigholf slipped his hand behind Rhona’s neck and leaned in closer, the stal ion beneath him surprisingly calm and unmoving. Holding the back of her neck loosely, Vigholf brought his face in a bit closer, brushing his forehead against her chin, her cheek; his fingers massaged her neck. When she didn’t pul away—or impale him with that damn spear—Vigholf pressed his lips against hers.
Her whole body immediately tensed, her fingers curling into fists gripping the mare’s mane tight.
Vigholf tipped his head to the side, his tongue gently sliding against her lips, trying to coax her into returning the kiss without seeming desperate.
And gods . . . he was desperate.
He’d wanted to do this for five years. Five long years of being stuck in the same cave with a female who told everyone he was a pest while swinging that damn tail at him.
Yet there was nothing from her or her lips. No response. No reaction except those tight fists.
Too fast. He was going too fast. Like she’d warned him their night together at Garbhán Isle, she wasn’t like her sisters or her cousins when it came to this sort of thing.
So he’d wait because, he knew, Rhona was a female worth waiting for.
Vigholf pul ed back, but let the fingers that stil rested on her neck linger as he sat up straight.
She watched him but said nothing, and he had no idea what to make of that. But he wouldn’t apologize for what he’d done. Not now. Not ever.
Rhona began to speak, stopped, frowned, and with a short shake of her head, turned her attention to the road ahead of them and spurred her horse into a gal op.
And, after letting out a soul-deep sigh, Vigholf fol owed.
Overlord Thracius walked by his soldiers, watching as they worked hard to ready everything.
“Any word from my daughter?” he asked his next in command, General Maecius.
“No, sir. I sent out scouts to see if they could find the messenger.”
“And?”
“They discovered his body beside a lake.”
Thracius stopped and faced the general. “Accident?”
“Signs of poisoning and his body showed signs of torture. He was kil ed.”
“So the message got to the Southlanders?”
“I would assume. But there’s been no retreat. No exodus of troops.”
“That’s fine. If the princes had left to save their spawn, I would have only had to kil them later anyway.” He walked on, but asked, gesturing at the work going on around him, “How far along are we?”
“Another two days. Maybe three.”
“Then start the siege tonight.”
“But my lord—”
“Tonight. We start the siege and prepare everything else while they’re dealing with that. But”—he stopped again and faced the general, pointing his talon in his face—“the timing must be perfect, Maecius. Understand me?”
“I do, my lord. And it wil be perfect.”
“Good.” He headed toward his private chambers deep inside Polycarp Mountains. “By the time we’re ready to strike . . . those idiots won’t see us coming.”
Chapter 18
They rode most of the day until they reached a town about another day’s ride outside of the Aricia Mountains. Crossing the mountains would be the chal enge. Not only because of the terrain, but because of what lay on the other side. But until then, Rhona wasn’t going to think about it. Instead, she only wanted warm food and ale.
She knew the horses would never al ow themselves to be placed in a stable for the night, so she left them about a mile outside of town near the river that cut through the mountains. And, if the horses were stil there in the morning, they’d hopeful y take them into the mountains the fol owing day.
As soon as Rhona and Vigholf reached the town, they separated. He didn’t say why, and she didn’t ask. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since Vigholf had kissed her. He didn’t seem angry, which she appreciated, but she never saw that kiss coming. And when it did, it took her completely by surprise. So she’d ended up just sitting there, feeling confused and foolish and annoyingly warm. But . . . what else could she do? For five years the dragon had done nothing but obsess over her spear and get in her way. Now he was kissing her—while on horseback. Acting as if he meant that kiss. As if kissing her was the most important thing in the entire world . . .
No, no, no! She didn’t want to think about this. She was hungry and had things to do. So she went and replenished their supplies and eventual y settled down at a busy pub for that hot meal.
A few bowls of stew later, the Northlander arrived. He wore the hood of his cape pul ed down far on his head, hiding his purple hair. But he couldn’t hide his size. The males instantly fel into an uneasy silence and the women . . . wel , no matter the species, Rhona could see lust miles away.
He sat down on the wood bench across from her and motioned to a barmaid. “Ale and stew. Some bread, too.” The woman smiled sweetly at him before turning to Rhona. “More food for you?” Rhona sucked her tongue against her teeth in warning and the barmaid walked off.
“Get what we need?” Vigholf asked, and she was quite relieved that he was final y talking to her.
“I got enough to last me at least two weeks. But with you along, I’m guessing we’l need more food in another day or two.” He shrugged and began eating the bread she had left.
“What have you been up to?”
“Tel you later,” he muttered, leaning back as food was placed in front of him.
“Al right, but I was thinking we could—” Another bowl of stew was dropped in front of Rhona and it was fil ed to the brim.
“You seem so hungry,” the barmaid said by way of explanation.
Rhona’s eyes narrowed onto the bitchy little service worker, but Vigholf made her smile a little when he said around a mouthful of food, “I like a female with an appetite.”
Once the barmaid had gone off, Rhona asked, “Want me to get us a couple of rooms for the night? They have space upstairs.”
“No,” he replied, completely focused on his food.
“No?”
“No.”
“You want to spend another night outside when we have a perfectly acceptable pub? Why?”
“Because you’d rather sleep under the stars.”
“What?”
“You’re just as happy on the ground, looking up at the sky. Right?”
It took a moment for Rhona to understand what he was talking about, but then she laughed. “You’re throwing my drunken words back at me?”
“Only when I like them. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at al .” Rhona had never real y liked staying in pubs or inns. She always felt trapped by the wal s, but her kin had always felt completely different on that point.
Rhona watched the dragon eat. Although it was more like inhaling than an actual act of putting food in one’s mouth and chewing. Yet it seemed to work for him. And, knowing that one serving would never satisfy Vigholf, Rhona pushed her bowl of stew across the table and let him devour that as wel .
Once Vigholf finished eating, they headed back to where they had left the horses. Separating from Rhona for a bit had been a good idea. It had al owed him to get his reason back. Although he didn’t regret kissing Rhona, he now realized he’d have to handle this with much more finesse.