“Cameron,” Drake said, hopefully.
Amy shook her head. “I don’t know of any Cameron relatives.”
“My parents met in Canada.”
“And they were both dragons? What are the odds?” Amy wondered quietly.
Rory cleared his throat. “If I may…Conlan and I were wonderin’ if we dragonsallmight be related. Conlan and I are cousins. Our fathers were identical twins. However, they had a younger brother as well.”
Conlan added, “Apparently our uncle left for parts unknown.”
“Why did he leave?” Amy asked. “And when?”
Rory cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat. “There was a bloody battle over the rule of Ballyhoo about a thousand years ago. Many died, but in the end my father defeated Conlan’s father.”
“Meaning he killed his own brother. All over a castle and a piece of dirt on the cliffs of the Atlantic Ocean. That’s about all that was left after the battle.” Conlan clasped his hands, as if in prayer.
The mood of the room turned somber. Rory took a deep breath. “We’ve put all that behind us now, right, cousin?”
Conlan nodded sadly. Then his countenance brightened. “Not without some good old Irish family drama, though.”
Rory laughed. “Me sisters and I stayed in Ballyhoo, Ireland—we’ll tell you about our cousins’ return from Ulster another time.”
“So what didyoudo, brave dragon?” Amber asked Rory. “Did you fight with your father?”
“No. I wanted to, believe me. But me father ordered me to stay below in the caves with me mother and sisters. He didn’t want to leave the women alone and vulnerable.”
Conlan laughed. “Aye. Me brother, Aiden, saw how vulnerable a female dragon could be when he was fightin’ for his life with Rory’s sister Chloe last summer.”
Amber smirked. “I remember. But let’s get back to the original battle—the one between your fathers…”
“A few years after me father was declared victorious, our parents left me in charge of a crumbling castle, two young sisters, and a couple of humans in a caretaker’s cottage.”
“Meanwhile,” Conlan added, “me brothers and I moved north with our widowed mother and settled near Belfast in Ulster.”
“And you’ve done quite well there,” Rory said. “They own a distillery that makes some of the finest whiskey you’ll ever taste. Who would like a dram?” Rory rose and walked over to the small bar in the corner.
“I think we could all use some…but only a little,” Amber said.
“Why? Is it very strong?” Amy asked.
Amber shrugged. “One never knows what will happen during Irish family reunions. I figure a little whiskey might settle the nerves. A lot of whiskey might have the opposite effect.”
“Oh. And of course our Scottish families are so much better behaved.” Amy exchanged a grin with Drake, who laughed.
“Ah, so wearerelated,” he said.
“Let’s figure this out,” Amy said, animatedly. “What do you know about your family, Drake?”
“I was told that my great-grandfather was the dragon thought to be the last on earth. The one St. George was credited with slaying—although it pains me to call the man a saint. My great-grandmother was pregnant with twins at the time and fled north, finally settling in the Highlands.”
Amy gasped. “I was told something similar. Except the pregnant dragon was my mother—your grandmother, Kristine. I was sired by a different father fifteen years after the twins.”
“So, if my grandfather was the missing Irish uncle,” Kristine said, “we could all be cousins—er, second cousins, or first cousins once removed… I don’t know how it goes, but we might be related.”
Drake cleared his throat. “I know I should never ask a lady this question, but how old are you both?”
“I’m about eight hundred or so. We didn’t keep records in the Scottish caves. Kristine is twenty-six.”
