“Have you gotten any sleep since I left?” she asked while Bram kissed a new scar on her throat.
“Why go to bed when you’re not there?”
“Well, I’m back for a while.”
“Is it just you?” And Bram was already leaning in to kiss her again.
“Hello, Da.”
Bram’s eldest slammed his blood-and-gore encrusted battle axe onto the table—on top of Bram’s books and papers. “I’m starvin’. Any food?”
“Well—”
“Da.” His second oldest, a dragoness who looked just like her mother, unloaded a battalion’s worth of weapons onto the table—on top of his books and papers. “Any food? I’m starvin’ .”
“I just asked,” her brother remarked.
“Are you saying I can’t ask?”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t ask, you whiny little cow.”
Two more of his offspring stormed in, dropping into chairs and putting their feet up on the table—all on top of his damn papers!
“You really want more offspring?” he had to ask Ghleanna as he always asked at moments like this.
“Just three more. Maybe four. Addolgar already has six!”
“Well, I’m not trying to keep up with your siblings, Captain! And do you think we can teach the next lot better manners?”
“They’ll still be Cadwaladrs, luv.”
“Guess that’s a no then.”
“Oy!” Ghleanna barked at the lounging dragons. “Get your hooves off the table and put your weapons away like I bloody taught ya!”
Grumbling as they liked to do, his offspring did what they were ordered. They’d learned early not to question their mother’s directives. Not if they, to quote Ghleanna, “Know what’s good for them.”
“Look at this mess they left,” Ghleanna complained. “Charles!”
“He’s out researching something for me and his name is Jonathan. Charles has been gone from this life for ages.”
“I know. But I still miss him,” she sighed. “Bang up job he did.”
“Jonathan will be gone for a few days.” He kissed her neck. “Perhaps the offspring can go to the pub tonight. For a few hours.”
Ghleanna laughed and put her arms around Bram’s shoulders. “I’m sure that’ll be hard to do. You know how pious they all are.”
Bram buried his nose against her neck, breathed in deep. “Gods, female. You smell like blood and death.”
Ghleanna smiled. Honestly, this dragon. “I’d be insulted, peacemaker, and hurt, if I couldn’t feel your c**k trying to burrow its way through me chainmail.”
“You’ve always known what you do to me, Ghleanna. Especially when you come back from battle with all your new scars and still covered in the blood and gore of our enemies. There’s only so much a dragon can take!”
“All right. All right. Calm yourself. You barely notice when I’m gone and then you’re all over me when I’m here.”
“It’s how I get through our time apart. It’s worked so far. Now kiss me again.”
She did, melting at the way his tongue delved deeper, his fingers stroking her shoulders and back. He’d do the same when he got her naked, but then he’d be slower. Lingering over every part of her. It made it worth coming back to a bloody castle rather than a cave.
“We’re hungry.”
Ghleanna glared across the table at her youngest male offspring and the rest of the brats standing beside him. “Then go get a cow.”
“You’re not going to feed us? What kind of mother are you?”
“One that can separate your legs from the rest of ya!”
“Or,” Bram cut in, “you can go to the pub. We’ll meet you there later.”
Her youngest daughter shrugged. “Ain’t got no money, do we?”
“I don’t understand. Why aren’t you pillaging like the rest of your kin?”
“It was the Northlands, Da. Ain’t nothin’ to pillage but the crows in the trees.”
“And snow,” their eldest added. “Lots and lots of snow.”
Bram motioned to his study. “You know where I keep the gold coin.”
As if on fire, their offspring made a desperate run for their father’s study, climbing over the table and fighting each other through the door. It wasn’t pretty.
“Ghleanna—”
“You tolerate them because you love me,” she quickly reminded him.
“Gods, I do love you. I even love that lot. Crazed, murdering scum that they are.”
“They are cute. And already making their names. And . . .”
“And?” Bram pushed.
“I was promoted to General.”
Bram’s smile was real and so very warm.
He hugged her tight. “My beautiful, beautiful mate. I’m so proud of you.”
She knew that. Reveled in it. “And believe it or not—I got my rank directly from Bercelak.”
“How the hells did you manage that?”
“No idea. And you know how he is. If we’re Cadwaladrs, we gotta kill twice as many as other Dragonwarriors before that tight-lipped bastard will even grunt in our direction.”
“Still a ray of sunshine, is he?”
Ghleanna laughed until their brats tore past them again on their way out the castle doors.