"I've missed you too, Mum. So much."

"Did you miss me too, boy?" eibhear could hear the sneer in that voice, his own lip starting to curl in annoyance as he spotted his father in the doorway.

His mother quickly pushed him back and asked, "And who is this young lad?"

Father and son snarled at each other until his mother shoved eibhear's shoulder. "Introduce us, son."

"This is Frederik Reinholdt. Lady Dagmar's nephew."

"Ohhh, well aren't you a strapping lad!" his mother exclaimed. She motioned Frederik closer. "I'm Queen Rhiannon, but you can call me Queen Rhiannon."

Gazing at Rhiannon, his mouth slightly open, Frederik took the hand Rhiannon offered and bowed low from the waist. "My . . . my lady."

Rhiannon's smile was wide as she leaned in and said, "Aren't you just adorable! I could just eat you right up!"

"Mum!"

"Well, I don't mean literally!"

Izzy took the stew off the fire and placed it in the middle of the table, while Brannie put bowls and spoons out and Celyn poured the ale. It was an old routine that they'd started a few years back.

Hard to believe, though, considering all that had happened.

Although Izzy knew many didn't believe her, she'd never planned for things to end up as they had among her, eibhear, and Celyn. She'd been young and she'd been . . . curious. There had been a few among her fellow soldiers who'd offered to satisfy that curiosity for her. Some politely and some with an outright, "I'll fuck ya proper," which did nothing but cause Izzy to reach for the closest weapon or simply throw a punch. But it was Celyn who'd kept her interest merely by being sweet, funny, and confident. He didn't offer anything because he didn't need to. And, one night, alone in the woods, they took the next logical-at least to her-step.

But it had never occurred to Izzy that things would turn out so badly. Then again, she'd never thought eibhear would find out. And if he did find out, she hadn't thought he'd really ever care. And although the sixteen-year-old Izzy, who'd fallen hard for the dragon from the first time she'd seen him and his blue hair, had wanted to believe that he'd cared about her, that he'd been jealous, the more jaded, realistic nineteen-year-old she'd been at the time knew better. Knew it was more about ego and competing with his cousin than it was about Izzy.

Thankfully, though, that was a long time ago and much had changed. At least for Izzy it had.

"So have you seen my cousin?" Celyn asked, after he'd finished his stew, pushing his now empty bowl away and leaning back in his chair, long legs stretched out, hand around a cup of ale.

"He escorted us home."

"And how did that go?"

Izzy tried to drag her fingers through the tangled, dirty mess of Macsen's fur. It wasn't that she didn't groom him. She actually groomed him often, but by the time she was done combing through the back end, the front end was already a tangled, dirty mess again. But since the dog didn't seem to mind . . .

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm pathetically curious."

Izzy laughed. "At least you're honest."

"As one of the chosen Dragon Queen Personal Guard, I am bound in blood to be honest." He glanced off and added, "Unless the queen tells me to lie . . . which she has."

"Shocking," Brannie muttered, reaching for the bottle of ale to refill her cup.

"Ahhh, the jealousy of a sibling. So bitter about my assignment, dear Brannie?"

"No. Just tired of hearing Mum go on and on about it."

"Oh, little sister, you shouldn't be so sensitive. You know Mum just loves me more than she loves you-ow! That's my shin, human female!"

"I know!" Izzy snapped, sorry she'd gone barefoot for the evening because Celyn's shins were like granite.

"You may not realize this, brother, but Izzy is loyal to me. So don't make me unleash her on you."

"And now you're making fun of me," Izzy complained.

"No. It's a serious threat," Celyn admitted. "Used by many in the family. Especially Briec. He loves threatening those who annoy him-"

"Which is everyone," Brannie stated while grabbing the last loaf of bread and tearing it into three pieces.

"-with his beautiful eldest daughter who will rip the scales from your back and tear the still-beating heart from your chest before spitting on your corpse."

Izzy put her hand to her chest, her voice trembling as she fought tears. "That is the sweetest thing I've ever heard."

"He adores both his girls."

"I needed to hear that." She took the chunk of bread from Brannie. "I've been feeling a little . . . bad today."

"Bad?" Celyn's teasing expression changed to one of concern. "About what?"

"eibhear told me that the family has been keeping him away because they didn't want him around when I was. And Daddy and Fearghus say that's mostly true. But they also said that Granddad forced eibhear to join the M-runach and for the last ten years he's been stuck in the Ice Lands. No one should be stuck in the Ice Lands. No one."

Celyn and Brannie stared at her for a long moment, looked at each other, then back at her, both saying together, "No."

"No? What do you mean no?"

"No one tells the M-runach anything," Celyn explained. "Except for the queen. She tells them what she wants and the M-runach make it happen."

"Make it happen? How?"

Celyn shrugged. "Any way they want to. The M-runach end up in the M-runach because they won't follow orders. At least not any orders that come from anyone but the queen."

"If they can't follow orders then why-"

"No. I said they won't follow orders, not that they can't."

"That's even worse then."

"As warriors, they're often too good to not be used."

"That was our grandfather," Brannie added. "He was a mighty warrior but the worst among the rank and file. Before our grandmother-"

"He loved fucking and eating and drinking. And he loved a good battle. But he hated taking orders."

"Hated generals and commanders."

"Hated being up in the morning."

"Especially after a good night of fucking and drinking."

Izzy, laughing, asked, "So he joined the M-runach?"

"One doesn't join the M-runach."

"Not willingly," Brannie noted.

"So they're forced," Izzy surmised, again feeling bad about eibhear's situation.

"More like given little option," Celyn replied. "It's usually a choice between the M-runach or the salt mines."

"Many take the salt mines."

"But if you survive the first two years of training . . . you become M-runach."

"Survive the training?"

"Which is hard enough, but when you're full M-runach, you still go into battle without armor-"

"-without colors."

"-without anyone really leading."

Shocked, hands pressed to her cheeks, Izzy asked, "Do they at least have weapons?"

"Sometimes, I guess." Celyn shook his head. "I'll be honest, Iz. It's not something I'd do."

"But . . ." And Izzy couldn't help but cringe in disbelief. "eibhear?"

"After what happened to Austell the Red . . ." The young Dragonwarrior recruit had been killed during the final battle of the war against the Iron dragons. It was something that Izzy had heard eibhear had taken very badly, for some reason blaming himself, but no one would ever tell Izzy exactly why. After a while she'd stopped asking because she had the feeling she didn't really want to know why eibhear would blame himself.

"Well," Celyn finally went on, "my cousin was never quite the same."

"He was impossible to train. Refused to listen."

"Fought everyone. eibhear was just angry."

"So Grandfather sent him to the M-runach?" Izzy said, motioning for the bottle of ale from Brannie.

"I wasn't surprised that Uncle Bercelak would send him," Celyn noted. "But I was surprised the queen let him go."

"Because it was eibhear?"

"Because no dragon prince has ever been in the M-runach in any of its forms."

"Its forms?"

Brannie shrugged. "The M-runach have been around nearly as long as dragon armies have. But they didn't have an official name until Grandfather Ailean joined. Before that they were just, 'Those crazy bastards that'll kill for a pint and a whore.'"

"Lovely."

Celyn laughed. "They're a bit more organized now, but they're still those crazy bastards. And I have to say that from what I've heard, eibhear fits in perfectly."

"The rumor is that the entire Ice Land sighed in relief when eibhear the Contemptible finally left their territories."

Izzy, deciding she didn't want to drink anymore, pushed her half-filled mug away. "So then you don't think the M-runach were forced to keep him away-"

"The M-runach kept him in the Ice Lands because that's where they were needed these last few years. And I'm sure with his reputation and his skills in battle, no one in the M-runach would have been fine with eibhear just flittin' off to a family feast or for your sister's birthday celebrations."

"When you're M-runach, they are your family. Only your mate matters more." Brannie thought a moment. "If any of them actually ever have one."

"So, his brothers ordering the M-runach to keep him in the Ice Lands for the last ten years . . . ?"

"It never happened."

Izzy dropped back into her chair. "Then why the hells would they let him believe that they did?"

Celyn reached over and patted her hand. "Because your father and uncles are cruel bastards, luv. How could you not have figured that out by now?"

Izzy snatched her hand back. "Oh, shut up."

Queen Rhiannon sat down beside her youngest offspring on the hill that overlooked the castle of Garbhn Isle and the surrounding grounds. The last time she'd sat here with her son, he'd been making the very nasty transition from child to adult. Now, as she looked up at the profile of that face, she saw what that change had cost him. There were no longer any soft lines there. No longer any perfect, smooth human skin. Instead, his jaw was strong and she could see that it had been broken at least once. His cheekbones were now sharp, and he had scars on his neck and face, which meant steel blades had cut past hard scales to the flesh underneath.

When she'd sent tasks to the M-runach, she'd had to struggle not to think of her son possibly being part of the team they'd send in to accomplish them. The thought of him running, screaming, into enemy territory, wearing no armor, and destroying all in his way until he reached his goal was something that often kept her up at nights. Not only what might physically happen to him, but what could change him. What could turn him into a dragon she'd rather not speak to, or hear from, or ever admit was her offspring.

In other words, would being a M-runach make him into a bastard?

Of course it had been hard to tell at evening meal. What with her mate and elder male offspring picking on him so. eibhear hadn't said much. Just kept eating, until he'd finally gotten up and walked out. Then she'd been forced to hear all the arguing between her sons and their mates. Honestly, did that ever end? But at least those human females did what they could to protect eibhear.

Rhiannon readied her speech. The speech she'd given more than once over the years to eibhear and, when they were much younger, to her older sons. The one that included things like: "I'm sure your father didn't mean that."

"Of course your father loves you."

"No. He didn't try to sell your egg to the highest human bidder."

"And of course, he never tried to kill you while you slept!"

She readied that speech, but before she could recite it as she'd been doing for the last few centuries, her son said, "Izzy didn't come to dinner."

Rhiannon blinked, closed her mouth. "No. Morfyd said she was tired and wanted to sleep."

"But she's not in her room."

"She has a house now."

Her son finally looked at her, those bright silver eyes curious. . . as always. Especially when it came to Iseabail.