Brannie was seconds from exploding at Aidan when Celyn went by them. Her brother glanced at them as he passed, then he looked a little harder, his eyes narrowing on Aidan before he was all the way down the stairs and joining the others in the Main Hall, where the feast had already started.

That’s when Brannie smiled.

* * *

Aidan saw that smile and was about to make a run for it when Brannie took his hand.

“Come with me,” she purred, leading him to the hall.

Musicians began to play and Gwenvael and Keita were, as always, the first to start dancing, brother and sister swinging each other around the floor.

Brannie led Aidan into the middle of the room and faced him.

He knew Brannie loved to dance and maybe if they danced, she’d give him a chance. That was all he wanted. Just a chance.

Still smiling, she raised her hands to his face, cupping his jaw in her hands. Then she leaned in and kissed him. Right there in front of everybody.

When she pulled back, she didn’t smile . . . she leered.

“Good luck,” she said before walking across the hall and out the front doors.

Aidan looked after her, wondering what she was talking about. And, as he watched, Celyn suddenly stood in front of him . . . staring. Then Addolgar. Then Rhys the Hammer. Then Fearghus. Briec. Even Éibhear, his best friend.

Then Gwenvael, of all dragons, stopped dancing and came over, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering at Aidan.

Gwenvael. The one whose entire family referred to him as Gwenvael the Whore.

And then . . . there it was. There he was.

Bercelak the Great, glaring down at Aidan like an angry mountain.

But before the angriest dragon Aidan had ever known could rip out his throat, Bram the Merciful stepped in front of all of them and roared, “What have you done to my baby?”

* * *

Izzy paced in front of Brannie, ranting. “That was, by far, the meanest thing you’ve ever done!”

“If he wants me, he’ll have to fight for me.”

“That’s not a fight. That’s a slaughter!”

“Are you saying I’m not worth dying for?”

“Branwen, no one is worth that!”

Branwen looked away from her best friend. “I don’t want to discuss it anymore.”

“Oh, we’re discussing.”

“Oh, no, we’re not.”

“Yes. We are.”

“No. We’re not.”

“You go in there and fix this, Branwen. Right now.”

“Nope.”

They both growled and looked away from each other.

Standing there, seething, and trying not to worry about crying at Aidan’s funeral procession, Brannie noticed Caswyn coming across the courtyard leading a big war horse by his reins.

Brannie’s mouth dropped open and, needing an outlet for her panic and anger, she ran down the steps and over to him.

“If you eat him—” she began.

Caswyn immediately raised his hands, palms out, like he was trying to ward her off.