I smiled at her and watched her eyes narrow to slits in warning. "Well, who could blame me, witch? You were magnificent."
Instead of her ire growing, it withered behind wet eyes and a fragile catch in her breath as she gasped out, "Torion."
Damn. I'd miscalculated.
"Oh, mate, come here now. It's all right. I'm being a beast on purpose—you know I love when you snap at me," I said, words tumbling over one another, my worry flaring as Brigid let me bundle her into my arms without so much as a squeak of protest. "The fight wasn't so bad. And you're right, I was distracted by you. Damian wasn't much of a threat, and he's gone now. No one else in Grave Hills is stupid enough to go up against me when I have you at my side. Hushhh, don't cry."
Brigid growled, but the sound hiccuped sweetly as she thumped her fist on my chest. I grit my teeth at the answering throb, and then she whimpered and soothed the spot with a touch that madeallof the pain in my body go dull and distant.
"It's your own damn fault?—"
"Of course it is," I agreed easily, wiping a tear off her cheek.
"—for making me so horribly, desperately,stupidly, permanently in love with you, you awful, beautiful, wonderful, perfect man," Brigid sobbed out.
I covered her ear and held her head to my shoulder so she couldn't hear my chuckle, kissing the top of her head and taking a great whiff of her. My home. My mate. My stubborn dragon witch. Brigid sniffled and snuggled deeper, and I stroked my fingers through the tangles of her hair, carefully unraveling them before they might pull and hurt her even the slightest bit.
"If you ever do anything to disappoint me, I will transform into my dragon and eat you," Brigid said, voice muffled and sullen.
"Good idea," I said, too outrageously happy to sound solemn.
"Don't agree with me. We both know perfectly well you never could stand to hurt me," she said, her voice going soft. My wing was coated in a mess of herbs and a plaster bandage. My ribs were wrapped, the rest of me was slippery with salve for bruising, and Brigid had made me rinse my mouth for the wound there, but thought it would heal faster than the rest.
She leaned out of my embrace, but only long enough to scoop Tylane up and enfold her between us, little snorts and snuffles of approval coming from our daughter.
"You can't even stand to disagree with me when I'm being unreasonable," Brigid said, kissing my jaw gently.
"You're never unreasonable," I said, entirely under her spell as usual, falling deeper as her eyes rolled.
"Silly man," she murmured, grazing her mouth over mine.
"Your man," I said, purring in a contentment too deep to feel entirely real. Tylane's head thumped to my chest to listen to the sound.
"Oh, yes," Brigid purred back. "Undeniably mine. As I am undeniably yours, mate."
We curled up together, cocooned in our wings, Brigid's stretching to cover me protectively, brilliant green with talons tipped red. She would walk through Grave Hills as a warning tothe men, and a promise to the women. So would our daughter. I would tend Brigid's wings soon. I was sure she was sore already.
"Everything will be all right?" she asked, but it was only a hint of a question.
Still, I answered. "Everything will be well, mate. I'll make sure of it for you, and for our daughter."
Brigid sighed and softened in my arms, nodding against my shoulder. She knew I would keep my promise, and I knew she was strong enough to stand by me through every challenge we might face, to conquer them with her hand in mine. Right where she was meant to be.
Epilogue
BRIGID
ONE HUNDRED YEARS LATER
“Have you got your bags? Bartlett, have you got the alpha's bags? There? Have you counted them all? You're sure?" There was a toss of black curls with a huff of breath, and our daughter's eyes rolled as she glanced at us before giving us a thorough once over and wincing. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather come and stay with me for a bit? Just till you get your feet under you again with the change."
I pursed my lips as Torion gave me a meaningful glance, his salt and pepper beard twitching uncontrollably. "We're perfectly able to keep our own house, love. We managed the keep for a century, after all."
"Aye, but it's meant to be your retirement now, and?—"
"Tylane, you're driving them mad," a rough voice called from under a pile of screaming children.
Tylane, tall and proud and as fearsome a dragon as the Hills had ever seen, wheeled around and marched her way over to her brother, her large sage and blue wings flapping with irritation. "I am not, and you could do a great deal more to help today than you are, Lockie."
