I really thought you were the one for me.
Her words were like a deep cut.
When he dreamed with Breena, he was someone else. When she admitted she put herself into his dreams he wrestled with temptation. He wanted to be the man in the dream for her.
But in his dreams, his blood never covered her hands. She’d brought this danger, but he brought much more. His dream girl didn’t belong with him. But for the first time, Osborn wished he could mean something to someone.
What he’d told his brothers was the truth. The sooner Breena was gone, the better it would be. For all of them.
BREENA AWOKE IN THE morning in front of the dying fire. Dawn crept over the line of the trees, and she heard a few birds begin their morning song. So normal. So idyllic.
She glanced down at her hands. They looked the same as they always did. Same nails. Still the same little freckle on the back of her hand. Her pinky finger stretched just a tiny bit crooked at the end.
But with her hands she wielded powerful magic. She pointed in the corner. Nothing. With her hands she wielded powerful magic sometimes.
Why did her magic power suddenly appear—now? Why not days ago when she could have put the power to use helping her family? What had changed?
Osborn. He was what changed. Did his presence have something to do with their onset? Would they grow stronger the longer she stayed? Or was it all coincidence? Would her powers eventually have appeared?
Breena stretched her arms high above her head. Her neck was stiff, and her back ached, but it felt good to be alive. She glanced around the tiny cottage.
Loud whispers echoed in the bedroom, and she knew the three Ursan men were awake. It had seemed so perfect when she’d stumbled upon them yesterday. She kicked the covers off, and began folding the blanket. Breena didn’t want to be accused of dawdling. The door opened, and Osborn stepped out of the bedroom. “You’re up.”
Turning, she made herself busy straightening the blanket. She wanted to avoid seeing his handsome face. Now that she knew he wasn’t her warrior, she didn’t want to…
She didn’t want to still desire him.
Bernt and Torben pushed themselves past their brother, fully dressed and ready for travel. “I didn’t think you were coming with us,” she said, thrilled there’d be some kind of buffer between her and Osborn.
“I don’t want the boys alone in case any more of those creatures come here.”
Cold. Logical. “I’m ready,” she told him, unwilling to meet his gaze.
After she used the privacy area, the four of them set out after a simple breakfast. Despite the boys’ attempts to cajole her into sharing more stories, the camaraderie of the evening before was definitely over.
“How long does it take before we get to the village?” she asked Bernt after they were well into their walk.
“We can usually arrive by noon,” Osborn answered instead.
Some time later she stumbled over a dead tree limb hidden in the brush. Three different male hands offered assistance. She grabbed for Torben’s and Bernt’s. Osborn’s eyes narrowed, and he glared at his brothers.
Around midmorning, they stopped to take a break around an old fire ring obviously used by travelers. The boys ran off for privacy while she plopped herself on a wooden stump as far away from Osborn as she could get.
A large figure blocked the sun. A shadow fell across her lap as she was rubbing her feet. An Osborn-shaped shadow. But she didn’t look up. “You’ve been avoiding me all morning. Why?”
Her shoulders slumped, and instead of feeling lighter that Osborn would soon be out of her life for good, the knowledge weighed on her heavily. She understood his reasons for not helping her, but she wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
He wore his longish hair tied back for their trip to town. Black seemed to be his color of choice; he wore it again today. He kept his appearance modest, but there was nothing simple about the huge sword strapped to his side. All together Osborn was devastating to her senses. Never had a man looked so strong, so powerful and so capable to her than the warrior. And right now she needed all of those things. Desperately. How could she not respond to him physically? Emotionally? And now he wanted some kind of explanation about her avoidance of him.
After steeling herself against the pull of his dark brown eyes, she met his gaze. “What do you want from me? I came to you for help. To find my family, to avenge their deaths. You won’t give it to me—I can accept that—but I don’t plan to sit around and discuss the weather or something with you now.”
He glared down at her. “You tried to get your magic to trap me.”
“If that’s how you want to view it,” she told him, her voice tired. If that’s how he still thought of her, she’d never convince him otherwise.
“I won’t be used. Ever again. By anyone.”
“Good for you, Osborn. In fact, go back to your cottage and just seal yourself from the rest of the world. Forget how to live, and die alone because you’ll eventually run your brothers off, too. Just point me in the direction of town, and I’ll handle the rest.”
“I’m taking you,” he said between clenched teeth.
She put the uncomfortable shoes back on her feet. “Then let’s not waste any more time here. The sooner you discard me at the village, the sooner you can be away from me.”
Breena began walking in the direction they were originally headed, and when Osborn’s brothers fell along beside her, she let out a small sigh of relief. After her big talk to their brother, she’d hate looking foolish by having to turn around and walk a different direction.
The sun was almost directly overhead when they crested a small hill. Below them a green valley stretched to the horizon, and there, nestled at the bottom, was a village. Having always been kept behind castle walls, the idea of exploring, even for just a few moments, took away the gloom of Osborn leaving her and what she must surely face in the coming days.
“Let’s go,” she told the boys, and they looped arms and charged down the hill, laughing all the way. Osborn followed behind, his hand never leaving his pack, his gaze constantly scanning around them.
The village was charming; the houses were similar to Osborn’s cottage but sanded and painted bright colors. A central road divided the small town, and booths and stalls invited her with enticing smells and beautiful fabrics. She remembered a story her mother once told of a boy made of wood tempted by all he saw in the village. The sights and the smells in town awed the boy, but he was also not careful and lost his money to a crafty fox and cat. The need for caution rang true now more than ever, but so did the lure of all there was to see and explore.
“What do you want to do first?” she asked.
“Eat,” both boys replied in unison.
She laughed until Osborn’s booming voice interrupted her. “Bernt, Torben, you go along. Breena stays with me.”
Torben looked like he might want to argue with his older brother, but the temptation to explore was just too great.
“Back in two hours.”
With a quick wave, both boys abandoned her. In a flash they were out of sight, and she felt the heavy presence of their brother at her side.
“I have a little money. It’s not much, but it should keep you from stealing anyone’s breakfast,” he said, his voice almost kind.
Breena smiled despite not wanting to. Why did he have to be nice? She really wanted to dislike him. It would make his leaving her so much easier.
“Thanks,” she managed to mumble. This would be the last time she would see him. She’d never dream of him again. Wouldn’t let herself. She began to stare at the booths, hoping he’d just leave.
“Breena—” he said, then stopped.
His voice was so raw, so full of yearning, she couldn’t help but meet his gaze. “Breena, I—”