“Hysterical laughter. Why did he keep hearing hysterical laughter? Fearghus opened one eye to stare at his two siblings. The were practically falling over each other they were laughing so hard. They woke him up from a sound sleep for this? "What?"His current mood wouldn't allow for this. And definitely wouldn't allow for him. Gwenvael choked out an answer. "She braided your hair, brother." "Like a horse's mane," his sister added.”
“I didn't know dragons had hair. It's like a horse's mane."Fearghus snapped. To Morfyd's surprise, Annwyl didn't shy away from her brother and scurry across the room. Instead, she laughed, leaning closer against his body."No need to get testy. I was merely implying that your kind was really meant to be beasts of burden for us humans. Just like horses. And centaurs.""Oh, is that all? Well, I apologize, Lady Annwyl. I thought you were saying something insulting.”
“A small fireball hit him in the face. He again looked at his sister, smoke still curling out from her human nostrils. "What brat?""I said she'll want to return to her men as soon as she can.""I know." His sister smiled up at him. "And will you be ready for that, idiot?""It's Lord Idiot to you." Fearghus rested his head on his crossed forearms. "And yes, brat. I will be.”
“His affection for the human grew steadily by the day. Sometimes by the minute. And it wasn’t simply her beauty, but her utter lack of fear of everything and anything except her brother. She didn’t fear dying. She didn’t fear battle. And, most importantly, she didn’t fear Fearghus. She touched him. Ran her hands across his scales and through his mane.But it was when he covered her up with the fur and she sighed his name in her sleep, that he lost his heart.”
“Fearghus entered what he now considered her chamber, but immediately ducked the book flung at his head. Clearly she’d been waiting for him. And she was not happy.“He’s the one supposed to be helping me,” she roared at him.“Did you just throw a book at me? In my own den?”“Yes. And I’d throw it again!”Fearghus scratched his head in confusion. He’d never met a human brave enough—or stupid enough, depending on your point of view—to challenge him. “But,” he croaked out, amazed, “I’m a dragon.”“And I have tits. It means nothing to me!”
“Fighting her smile, his sister reached over and ran her hand through his hair. “That, my sweet brother, is called heartbreak.”He glanced down at his chest. “Will that be a physical deformity?”
“Adjusting her frames, Dagmar said, “It’s time for you to stop talking.”“I don’t want to.”“But you will stop talking.”“We’re on my territory now, Beast. You can’t strut around here and pretend you rule all—”“Quiet.”“But—”She raised her right forefinger.“She—”Dagmar raised that damn forefinger higher.“It’s just—”Now she brandished both forefingers. “Stop.”He gave Dagmar his best pout, which she completely ignored, turning her back on him to again face Annwyl. “Think there might be some place private we can talk, my lady?”Gwenvael’s mouth dropped open. “Did you just dismiss—”Dagmar held up that damn forefinger again but didn’t even bother to look at him when she did.Annwyl’s grin was wide and bright. A smile Gwenvael hadn’t seen from her in far too long. “Right this way, Lady Dagmar.”“Thank you.” Dagmar brusquely snapped her fingers at Gwenvael. “And don’t forget to bring my bags up once I get a room, Defiler.”Annwyl fairly glowed as she followed Dagmar from the room, her smile growing by the second. Gwenvael faced his sister. “It’s Ruiner, which is a vast difference.So get it right!” he yelled at the empty doorway.”