Her imagination played with the idea of taking off at a run. He’d chase. He’d catch her. She’d be helpless against his strength. And while he’d threatened her with death a moment ago, she knew that was the last thing he wanted to do to her. He did want to do things to her. Forbidden deeds. She shivered again. Her skills were few, but along with hairbrushing there was the reading of people.
And she could read this man.
Probably the only weapon she had against him.
He was angry. He saw himself as betrayed by her and by his very dreams when he was at his most vulnerable. To a man like her warrior, such a thing was probably unforgivable.
She had to make him forgive her. It was the only way to get his help. Breena desperately needed his help, but, even more, she wanted him to choose to help her now that she’d kissed him. Been held in his arms. She craved that almost as much as she needed his skills as a fighter.
Breena had longed for this man. Ached for him. And now he stood just feet away from her…despising her. And wanting her with a heat that made her stomach dip in excitement.
Osborn’s expression grew fiercer. His face was as hard as the stone that made the walls of her bedchamber at home.
Her fingers stilled. A new image…a memory of her home. And it came without pain. A rush of images and feelings nearly overwhelmed her. A peaceful kind of hope settled in her chest, and she smiled, barely realizing she was still staring at Osborn.
His hands fisted, and the muscles of his legs bunched as though he was about to stalk over to her and help her dress. Or remove what she’d already donned. Her mouth went dry, and she turned away, quickly returning to her task.
The thoughts of her home gave her peace, but menace tinged the calmness and the longing. She tried to concentrate, grab the memories, which seemed to be fluttering just out of her reach. This time the pain splintered behind her eyes, and she stopped trying to recall the elusive thoughts of home. But she’d try again. She’d managed to survive another day. She’d found her warrior, and soon she’d understand why she was so far away from her family.
She tugged on the rest of the clothes Bernt and Torben had given her, although tugged wasn’t really the right word, since the garments still hung down past her fingertips, and she had to roll the pant legs up several times. Osborn was dressed in half the time it took her, and for that she was grateful. How was a girl, long shielded from males, supposed to react when encountering a naked man? And one so beautifully made? She still had to suffer staring at the broadness of his back, and how the pants clung to his seat. Was a woman supposed to find a man’s backside attractive? She’d heard the maids in the castle gossip about a man’s flat stomach, speculate on the largeness of his feet, or discuss the strength of his arms, but never specifically his— “Hurry.”
Startled, Breena met Osborn’s gaze. Caught.
“We have a good ten-minute walk back to the cottage, and the sun will be setting soon. I want to be prepared if those things come back.”
She nodded, and quickened her pace. Maybe he hadn’t noticed her gawking at his body. “And, Breena…”
“Yes?”
“You can look at that later. All you want.”
Why did that sound less like a threat and more like something she’d want to do?
THE BROTHERS STOOD OUTSIDE the cottage examining the waning daylight as they approached. Osborn had led the way, with her following close behind. The boys looked a little shocked to see her beside Osborn. Curiosity radiated from their young faces, and they loped down the stairs to meet them in the clearing.
“Did you see that thing in the sky?”
“It got all dark.”
“What happened to your arm?”
Both boys spoke at once, and she smiled. Her brothers when they were younger also charged all over each other’s words.
Her breath came out in a gasp, but the three males didn’t seem to notice. Another memory without pain. Were her brothers safe? Where were they? Dayn had been outside, and Micah… She tried to picture his sweet face and remember. Something about his nanny. A shaft of pain forced her to stop digging for the memory of that night. It seemed she could recall the events much easier when she wasn’t even trying. Perhaps she shouldn’t try to force anything. Maybe she could ease into her past like she did her dreamhaze. Relax, picture a door in her mind and, instead of a dream, walk into her past.
“We were attacked.”
Torben and Bernt didn’t miss the emphasis Osborn placed on the word we. Subtlety was apparently not one of his skills. The brothers glanced at each other, and suspected they would have rolled their eyes if Osborn hadn’t been standing right there.
“We sent them away.”
“Just like you said,” Bernt defended.
“I found her splashing around in the lake. That’s where we were attacked.”
“What were those things?” Torben asked.
“Scouts. Created by blood magic. I’ve seen them before, but only once.”
“I’ve never seen anything by blood magic,” Torben said, excitement lacing his voice.
A little too much excitement. Osborn glared down at his younger brother. “Pray that you never do.”
“There’s rumors you can hear the cries of the souls of whose blood was taken,” Bernt added, clearly not wanting to be left out of the conversation.
Osborn’s face turned grim. “It’s a sound I have no wish to hear again.”
“Their shrieks were horrible,” Breena added, and she couldn’t repress the shudder. She didn’t know if the wailing came of the soulless or not, but she recognized misery, unbearable pain. So evil…
“That’s because you are a girl,” Torben replied. He turned his attention back to Osborn. “I guess they didn’t shriek for long after you were done with them.”
Breena bit back a smile at the pride the youngest brother felt over Osborn’s prowess and fighting skill. Micah had been the same about Dayn and Nicolai.
Another thought of home without pain. Yes, the key was to let it flow naturally, and not work too hard.
Osborn cut a quick glance in her direction, then focused once more on his brothers. “I, uh, didn’t have my pack.”
“But, Osborn, you’re never without your pack,” Torben said. The boy sounded incredulous.
“You always keep it within reach.”
Did she see a hint of color along Osborn’s cheekbones? He cleared his throat and crossed his arms against his chest. What kind of move was that? It was as if he were trying to shield himself. Finally the man didn’t have the upper hand.
“Yes, Osborn, why did you have your pack so far away?” she asked sweetly.
His brown gaze narrowed. “Turns out I didn’t need it,” he said between clenched teeth.
She met his stare. “Oh?”
Osborn shrugged. “Breena killed the beast.”
Breena stood a little straighter. Yes. Yes, she had killed the thing. Of course, she had the help of a little magic.
The two boys stared at her for a moment. Then Bernt began to laugh. His younger brother quickly followed. Breena might be wearing borrowed clothes, not have much memory, but she knew one thing…she didn’t much care for being laughed at.
The energy she’d felt at the lake began to swirl within her.
“Ouch,” Torben said as he backed up a step.
Bernt stopped laughing long enough to look at his brother. “What— Ouch!”
“It’s like someone pinched me right on the as—er, backside,” Torben said.
Osborn cut a quick glance her way, but he didn’t look angry at her use of magical powers.
“What was that?” Bernt asked as he rubbed his rear.