He smiled at just hearing her voice in his head.

It’s done, sister.

She’s . . .

It’s done.

Aggie was quiet and he knew she was dealing with the realization that the She-dragon who’d held her hostage for politics and tortured her for amusement was now dead. Dead and suffering in whatever hell she’d ended up in.

Will you be home soon? Aggie finally asked.

Back to Garbhán Isle first, then home. But if you want, you can meet me at Queen Annwyl’s—

No, thank you, she immediately cut in. I’ll just wait until you get home.

All right.

And I assume you’re bringing that Rider with you?

Gaius laughed. You know my mate adores you.

She calls me the weak one!

With affection!

Oh, shut up and go to sleep.

I am tired. I’ll talk to you when we arrive back in the Southlands.

All right. And Gaius . . .?

Uh-huh.

I love you, brother.

And I love you, sister. Forever and always.

* * *

The two suns rose and Brannie instantly woke up. And, as soon as she did, she wished she didn’t have to.

She’d had too much to drink, that was for sure, but it didn’t matter, she’d had a great time. And now it was over. Done. She could walk away from Aidan and not look back. They’d just be good friends from now on with no regrets.

Pleased with that, she started to get up. She knew she’d have to get her troops moving. Bercelak wanted them heading back to Garbhán Isle in the next few hours and she wasn’t about to be the one to get on the wrong side of her cranky uncle.

But when she tried to get up, she realized Aidan’s arm was around her, holding her tight.

Laughing a little, she reached down to pull his arm away. But instead of human flesh . . . she felt scales under her talons.

Brannie froze, eyes wide. Especially when she realized that Aidan wasn’t just holding her . . . he was inside her. And his tail was entangled with her own.

“That mother—”

* * *

“—fucker!”

Aidan snapped awake, his arm reaching out for his sword, assuming he was under attack.

And he was . . . from Brannie.

“We had a deal!” she screamed at him.

“What?”

“You lying, son of a—”

Aidan grabbed her forearms to stop her from tearing his scales off and . . . and . . .

Oh, shit.

Aidan looked down at himself. He was dragon. Brannie was dragon.

And his cock was still wet.

Brannie swung at him, but Aidan rolled away and to his feet. They squared off against each other on either side of the cove.

“You tricked me!” she accused.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me! You got me drunk and you tricked me! But that doesn’t mean anything! That means nothing!”