Can't Get Enough (Dragon Kin) - G.A. Aiken Page 0,32

to stop the bleeding on his arm. But he abruptly stopped in the middle of the hallway and took several slow steps back.

He looked into the room that held all the maps and documents necessary for when they made battle plans. He glared.

Arranz sat at one of the tables, his feet up on the thick wood, his hands laced behind his head. Shalin stood before him in a dress Ailean had never seen. Even more annoying—she’d been posing when he walked in.

“What in all the hells is going on?”

Shalin gave him a quick, shy smile that had his entire body burning. “Arranz wanted to see this dress on me to see if it would look nice on his lady friend.”

“Lady friend?”

“Aye,” his brother answered, smugness personified. “She’s a tall human. About Shalin’s size and I wanted to make sure the dress would look good before I gave it to her. Since it looks divine on Shalin, I’m sure it will do wonders for my friend.”

Shalin blushed and nervously combed her hair behind her ears with her fingers. “Stop it, Arranz.”

“Aye,” Ailean growled. “Stop it, Arranz.”

“I only speak the truth, sweet Shalin.” It annoyed Ailean even more that his brother ignored him. “But now that I look at you, I don’t have the heart to take that frock back.”

Frock? Ailean had seen and purchased enough dresses over the decades to know a casual frock and a dress made for a woman. And this dress, off-white with gold thread weaved through, had been made for Shalin.

“I can’t keep it, Arranz. It’s too fine.”

“It’s perfect for you.”

Too perfect.

“Arranz, if this is about the other morn…”

The other morn? What about it?

“No reason to bring that up, Shalin. You’ll keep the dress and tonight we’ll pull the tables back and dance.”

Shalin’s eyes widened and she stepped back. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“I’ll teach you.”

Over my dead carcass…

“Arranz, students of the Magickal arts don’t dance. Instead we walk around giving disapproving looks at such activities.”

“Really? Can you show me?”

Shalin leaned forward a bit and drew her brows down.

Arranz laughed. “I’ve seen that look.”

“I believe you and all your kin have seen this look.”

“You’re not with some stodgy acolytes, Shalin. You’re with the Cadwaladr Clan, and you’ll dance.”

Arranz swung his long legs off the table and stood. “Brother,” he said as he passed Ailean.

“Bastard,” Ailean muttered back.

Once he knew his brother had walked a good bit away, Ailean stepped farther into the room and closed the door with his foot.

“You don’t like this dress on me, do you?”

“What?”

“The dress. You don’t like it.” Shalin smoothed the front down, and Ailean knew she loved the dress.

“You look beautiful in that dress.”

“Then why are you—what happened to your arm?” She rushed over to him, and he turned from her. “Ailean?”

“You’ll get blood on your dress.”

“Don’t be foolish.” She rushed around him and latched on to his arm.

“Shalin—”

“Let me see.” She lifted the cloth and frowned. “Gods, Ailean, what happened?”

“That demon beast you call a horse did this.”

“Nightmare?”

“Who else?”

“Why? What did you do?”

“What did I—” Ailean pulled his arm away from her grasp and took a few steps back. “This is your fault, wench.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you want. This is your fault. You’ve bewitched the males here and now they’ve all gone mad.” Him included, because all he could think about was tearing her lovely new dress from her body and burying himself inside her until the two suns burned from the sky.

“You’re insane, all right. But it has nothing to do with me.”

Slapping the bloody rag back on his still bleeding wound, Ailean snarled, “Stay away from my brothers, Shalin.” He stormed to the door and yanked it open. “That is not a request,” he informed her before marching out in search of Madenn—and Arranz.

Shalin must have sat on that table with all the detailed maps for an hour, her mind blissfully blank for once. But she didn’t understand…was Ailean jealous? Of his own kin? About her?

It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. She looked down at the gown she still wore. She’d never had anything so fine. Before her time in Kyffin, Shalin had spent little time as a human, so there’d been no need for dresses. And as an acolyte at the school, she wore the requisite robes. So a dress this beautiful and regal was something she never thought to have.

And why had Arranz given it to her? It would have made sense coming from Ailean because of their…uh…tryst? No, that

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