“Not when fate decides otherwise.”
“I reject your claim,” she said.
“Too late.”
“What?” she gasped. “You haven’t claimed me.”
He shrugged. “It’s as good as done. I can scent your need from here.” His eyes glinted. “And you smell good enough to eat, lass. Which I’ll most definitely be doing.”
“Keep dreaming.”
Tavish’s smile grew. “I wager you’ve soaked through those trews.”
Fire leapt in her eyes. “You’re a pig!”
Their voices climbed higher, the sound of two quarreling, hot-tempered dragons rising to the smoke-blackened beams. I opened my mouth to interject, but they talked over me.
Portia shoved back her chair and shot to her feet. “If you won’t help me, then I’m leaving right now!”
Tavish’s chair tumbled backward as he matched her stance. “As I told you before, we’re happy to give chase.” A crafty look appeared in his eyes, and his voice slid lower. “Is that it, lassie? You want to be caught? I don’t mind indulging you in that sort of play.”
She balled her hands into fists. “You’re a disgusting swine.”
“Aye, you’ve said that. And you’re in sore need of a firm hand.” He lifted one of his. “Good thing mine are so large. Reckon I’ll be busy curbing your temper.”
Her eyes went wide, and rage trembled in her voice as she asked, “Are you threatening tospankme?”
“Oh, I don’t make threats, woman. I make good on my promises.”
Enough.I stood, holding up my hands. “We should discuss our options.”
Tavish looked at me, then hooked a thumb at Portia. “Aye, the option is putting yon princess in her room and locking the door until she discovers some sense.”
Portia grabbed her knife from the table and extended it in Tavish’s direction. “Do it, and you can kiss your nutsack goodbye, dickface.”
He frowned. “I understood half of that.”
“No one is locking up anyone,” I said.
Portia stared at Tavish like she dearly hoped his head would explode before her eyes. “You’ll never keep me against my will. I’m King Cormac’s daughter, and no prison can hold me.”
Tavish looked smug. “Albie’s manacles can hold anything, including dragon princesses.”
She swung a furious look toward me, her fingers tight around the knife handle.
I raised my hands even as I longed to strangle Tavish. “They’re notmymanacles. I bought them off a witch. They’re spelled to hold a shapeshifter.”
The flames in Portia’s eyes danced higher, orange ribbons licking over her emerald irises. “If you attempt to put manacles on me, I’ll keep your bawbag in a jar. Do you understand that word?”
“No one is putting manacles on you, Princess.”
She held my stare, the promise of violence in her eyes. Then her expression changed, determination replacing fury. “I’ll just go back to the stones. Step through them and go home.”
My stomach lurched. “That could kill you.” I kept my voice calm, reasonable. “I told you, most people don’t survive passage through the stones. You made it once by some miracle. Attempting it again…” I shook my head. “The odds aren’t in your favor, lass.”
Her face paled, but she lifted her chin. “I have to try.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You don’t.”
