The Dragon's Arranged Mate(36)

I had spent sleepless nights soon after Kellen was first born; now that  he was here, and had been given the name of the Great Dragon of legend, I  feared that Arthur would seek his vengeance. An infant would be much  easier to destroy than a grown dragon, after all. I knew he was aware of  Anabelle having been with child, since he had spoken of the child  before we battled, and assumed that he would have had some idea of when  the birth was to take place. I would pace the floor, night after night,  worrying about the safety of the babe I had fallen in love with the  moment I set eyes upon him.

Still, in five years, not a sight or sound had been reported. I knew  that Rhiannon had never lost her vigilance; she would wait for the  slightest sign of ill-will, the smallest shred of dark energy, until the  day she left us for the next world. She had a family to protect, she  had told me the day I awoke from my drugged slumber, and she would do  everything she could to ensure our safety and the safety of her  grandchild.

Now, years later, I looked fondly at my mother. She was still as  beautiful and regal as she had ever been, her white hair shimmering down  her back, her skin smooth and youthful. Her eyes carried still the  impish gleam my father had fallen in love with, so many years ago. She  must have felt my eyes resting upon her, for she turned to me and smiled  the same loving smile I had seen for my entire life. Never, no matter  how naughty or downright terrible my actions had been, had I known that  smile to falter. She had always supported me  –  sometimes sternly, of  course, but always tempered with love. This was the spirit in which I  tried to rear my children.         

 

I looked fondly down at my son. He was trying very hard to be grown up  and to live up to his mother's pleas that he behave himself. I could  tell that he was nearly vibrating with the need to run and jump and  yell; he had all the energy of a healthy little boy, and then some. I  remembered how tedious such ceremonies had seemed to me when I was his  age; truth be told, I'd rather be running and playing and flying at the  moment, myself.

Little Vanessa was a credit to us, as she smiled sweetly and showed off  the pretty gown of which she was so proud. She would only be making the  briefest of appearances today, whereas it was expected of Kellen to be  present a while longer not only as the older child but as the heir to  the throne.

The heir. And another dragon. I often wished, more than I even had in  the past, that my father could be here to share his wisdom with me as I  tried to be as good and fair with Kellen as he'd been when I was a boy.  He had taught me to temper my youthful desires, to exercise caution in  choosing who I allowed into my inner circle of trusted companions and  advisors. He had laughed at me, and tried to teach me to laugh at  myself. That was still a task to which I was ill-suited … but I had gotten  better at it over the years.

Anabelle and I often sat up late into the night, talking over our plans  for Kellen's rearing. We had our hands full, and I sometimes apologized  to my mother for the grief and strain I now knew I must have put her  through. She would always smile, and say that she had hoped I wouldn't  be cursed with such a willful son as I had been … if only for the sake of  my sweet wife. I, on the other hand, deserved a dose of my own medicine.

Still, he was very young. There were many years to pass before we knew  what sort of man he would be. In the meantime, I would do my level best  to provide him with the guidance that had been so lovingly given to me.

Morgan and Cliona stood together and recited their vows, and I couldn't  help letting my eyes wander over to those of my mate. Anabelle's own  eyes were bright with tears, and she turned to me as if she felt the  weight of my gaze upon her. Just as she had on the day we were wed, she  whispered, "Thabharfainn fuil mo chroí duit". I'd give you the blood of  my heart.

And I believed her. She'd given me much more over the years  –  more joy,  and pleasure, and comfort, and greater challenge than any woman I could  imagine. We still had moments in which both our tempers threatened to  explode. Still I found myself taking to the sky in an effort to vent my  irritation. It amazed me, still, that such a slight little thing could  carry such a fearsome temper.

I covered her hand with my own and watched my brother and his mate  complete their union    . Soon, gods willing, they would start a family of  their own and add to the line of dragons that would rule the sky over  Ireland long after our demise.

And I prayed, then, that should Arthur make his return, our clan of  dragons and the men who fought for us would be strong enough to face him  yet again. But somehow, with Anabelle's hand in my own, I felt no fear.


THE END