“You humans can’t help yourselves. You always have something to prove, and killing a sleeping dragon seems to bring you the highest honors.”
“Not humans. Men.”
He put his cock away, adjusted his chain-mail leggings, and crouched down to wash his hands in the stream.
“You don’t have a very high opinion of males, do you?”
“Of course I do. I love them. But they have many flaws. It is not their fault, though. They are born with weakness. It is the weakness of their sex that makes them so hysterical and egotistical.”
“You do understand that none of the races can survive without both genders? We need each other.”
“Yes. Of course. Who else would take out our trash? Lift heavy things?” She grinned, and the dragon shook his head, but still laughed.
“I’ve truly missed you, Kachka.”
“You have?”
He ran wet hands through his hair. “Yes. I have. I’ve thought about you often when I was traveling the last few months. Especially,” he sighed out, “when Caswyn and Uther would have . . . debates.”
“Debates? About what?”
“Whatever their tiny little brains would deem interesting.” He looked up at Kachka. “It’s been a long eight months. You helped keep me sane.”
“And I was not even there. I never knew I was so gifted.”
“Well, you are female.”
“Very true.”
Gaius stood and took a step, moving close to her. “Did you think about me?” he asked, gazing down into her face.
“Not often,” she admitted. “Mostly just when I masturbate.”
Gaius closed his eye. “You do that on purpose, don’t you?”
“Do what? Tell truth?”
Sliding his hands into her hair, he tilted her face up. “Evil harpy.”
“Imperialist dog.”
His grip tightened and he leaned down as Kachka went up on her toes, their lips a hairsbreadth awa—
“Morning, my friends!”
Kachka gritted her teeth and growled, “I will kill her.”
Gaius massaged Kachka’s skull with the tips of his fingers, as if he was trying to soothe a dangerous animal. “Morning, Zoya.”
“Such a beautiful day!” she announced.
“Looks like rain, comrade.”
Gaius, laughing, kissed Kachka’s forehead before releasing her.
“Do you come with us, Rebel King? To retrieve these eyes of god?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Gaius shook his head. “Really, Kachka? Really?”
“I am the one who needs to retrieve this thing. You need to return to your kingdom and your royal life.”
“My sister reigns with a fair claw and hard heart. She’ll be fine without me. This is more important.”
“And why do you believe that?”
“Because I’m here. And I don’t think that’s by accident.”
While Zoya used the stream to scrub her face and neck clean, Gaius explained to Kachka, “Two days ago, my only plan, my only goal in the world, was to track down Vateria, with the help of Branwen and the Mì-runach, and cut her throat. That was it. I’ve hunted down every cousin or blood relative still loyal to my Uncle Thracius in order to find her.”
“But now you are here, instead of hunting your cousin.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I met a sword-for-hire on the road, and what she said . . . resonated with me.”
“Resonated?”
“Made sense,” he clarified. “Even my sister tires of thinking about Vateria. Worrying about her. She told me that Chramnesind’s cult killers had been pushed out of Annwyl’s territory and into ours. I came to the temple closest to me to take them on, and found you. I’m a firm believer in signs, Kachka Shestakova. This was not an accident. We should do this together.”
“Just two of us?”
“Well . . . more like you, me, Brannie, your team, the Mì-runach—”
“And Zoya, of course!” Zoya announced, patting them both on the back before walking off. Singing.
“Does she grasp that it hurts when she does that?” Gaius asked.
“No,” Kachka said with a shrug. “Not even little bit.”
Roland Salebiri kissed his wife’s long neck before slipping out of their bed and walking to the large doors. He opened them and stepped out onto the balcony, gazing down at his troops preparing for the upcoming war.
There were many nations who wanted the Whore of Garbhán Isle brought to heel and were ready to join Salebiri, whether they believed in his god or not. Although he didn’t worry. They too would take the blood oath and give their souls to the one true god. In time.
But, until then, Salebiri cared for only one thing. The destruction of the Whore Queen and her brood of Abominations. He’d kill them all in the name of his god.
Hands slid around his chest and soft lips pressed against his neck. His wife was as tall as he, but it had never bothered Roland.
“Come back to bed,” she purred, tempting him as no one else had ever been able to do before.
“How I’d love to. But I can’t. I had a dream.”
“A dream? About what?”
“About you, my love. About you traveling from these lands.”
“Me?”
He turned and faced her, sliding his hands around her waist. “It’s sweet. That you pretend my connection to our god is as strong as yours.”
“Roland—”
“No.” He kissed her cheek. “I have faith in him and he has faith in you. Take what you need. Leave as soon as you can manage. I will not question.”
“Are you sure?”
“I do not deny our god anything. That includes you.”
Vateria had just pulled on her boots when her niece walked in.
“You ready?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Vateria stood, smoothing down the gown that covered her leggings. “Our people ready?”
“Handpicked by me. They’re ready to move when you are.”
“Good.”
Pulling a fur cape over her shoulders, Vateria walked across the room. As she neared the doors, her niece asked, “Are you sure about this, Auntie? Once Uncle Roland finds out the truth about—”
Vateria stopped by her niece, pressed her middle and index fingers against her lips. “Sh-sh-sh,” she whispered. “One must have faith.”
“Yes, but—”
Vateria stepped into her niece, quietly enjoying the way the young She-dragon immediately backed up, her head banging into the door.
“Faith,” Vateria said again. “Understand?”
“Yes. Yes, Auntie Vateria. Faith.”
“Good.” She petted her niece’s cheek. “Then let’s go. Once we have our prize, all will be well.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Once the two groups had moved out that morning, they’d separated, traveling along different routes to a spot predetermined by Gaius. The suns had already gone down when they met again. But the Riders came with several freshly slaughtered boars, ready for Aidan’s flame, and Ivan Khoruzhaya boiled up some potatoes.