Neera toed the abandoned rock slinger. Casin crossed his forearms over the long neck of his hapfe and leaned forward. Strands of black hair fell about his temple lending him a boyish cast. “We came only at the end. Show us, Melane.”
The joy no longer there, Melane reached for the branch. Saran’s gaze continued to burn a hole in her back. When she straightened, she avoided meeting his eyes and spoke directly to Casin. “It has been some time and I confess to it being a game to busy me as a youngling.”
“I would see it from the beginning.” He waved his fingers negligently and winked. “Do not shy away. Show us, if you have a mind to do it.”
Melane peeked from the corner of her eyes to see Saran glaring at Casin. With his hair piled on top of his head, his features were sharply highlighted. Nothing could have stopped her from taking in the blade of his nose, the jut of his stubborn jaw and the press of his full lips.
“Melane?” Neera prodded.
Gathering her breath, Melane nodded and searched the ground for another rock or pebble. She spotted a fairly large stone with slivers of silver in the white. She aimed for a low hanging branch and a cluster of leaves then fired her shot.
Neera laughed, her delight obvious. Even Casin clapped after announcing, “I am impressed.”
Giddy triumph bubbled up. Melane bounced on her toes pleased she still managed to hit what she aimed for. And not once but twice.
“Do it again!” Neera’s support lessened Melane’s nerves at performing in front of others.
“Show me this trick of younglings.” Humor danced through Casin’s command as he dismounted and joined them.
Melane’s studiously avoided Saran. When Casin approached with his hand outstretched Melane handed over her rock slinger. “Make sure to pick the right rock. It helps.”
Grinning, Casin knelt on the ground and picked up several. He stood and opened his palm. “Which one do you recommend?”
His attention made her more skittish but she kept her smile in place and teased. “This is not the same as fighting with your sword, Warlord. It requires skill and a gentle touch.”
His grin spread and Melane had a moment to truly appreciate how handsome the warrior was. Almost as handsome as Saran. She peeked at him but his deep frown cautioned her to keep her eyes on Casin.
“You know you have leave to call me Casin.” He paused then lowered his voice but not so much the others could not hear. “I have much skill and ever is my touch gentle.”
Neera snickered at his claim and Melane’s cheeks grew fiery hot. To put an end to the flirting, she pointed at several rocks littered about their feet. “Any of those should do.”
He fumbled with the branch and her improvised weapon, dropping the medium sized rock several times. Melane grabbed one and stepped closer to him. Holding his hands in the proper position, she showed him how to pull back the leather band.
He winked down at her, causing another flush as she jerked her gaze away. “You want to position the rock in the middle and then fire.”
When he didn’t reply, Melane glanced up to catch his heated stare. It took a moment to realize one side of her body leaned into his, her breast nestled near his arm. She pulled away with a sharp gasp. “My apologies, War...Casin.”
“It is not a bother.” Then ending her short time of shame, he stretched his arm out, placed his hand on the band and shot the rock at a branch. All without taking his gaze from her.
Melane swallowed but Neera clapped. “He did it! You are a good teacher, Melane.”
Turning to face the target, Melane spotted the new branch and leaves on the ground next to her early efforts. Giddy, she spun to receive Saran’s reaction.
His expression remained bland. He broke his silence for the first time. “Perhaps, it would serve you to spend more time in something with...purpose.”
Melane froze. Every bit of pleasure she took in the last few minutes crashed and a vise began to squeeze her chest in its tight grip.
“Saran—”
Saran shot Casin a heated look. “You have something to say, Warlord?”
Casin’s own anger simmered, his eyes darkening but he kept his tone even. “No, Saran.”
Awkward silence wavered for a beat, until Saran tipped his head. “Do not linger long and stay to the path.”
Neera again filled in. “Yes, Warlord.”
Melane, unable to speak or swallow past the thickness in her throat, turned her face to the side. She didn’t want either to see her misery.
Casin touched her shoulder before stepping away. “I thank you for the lesson, Melane.”
As if her pain wasn’t enough, Saran added, “I am thinking of taking a bride. Rock slinging is a game of youngling. I seek a woman who is of strong and fierce countenance. It is a pity, you are not.”
The vise twisted tighter. After the sounds of their hapfe leaving faded, Neera cleared her throat. “Melane, it is best we return. The hour turns late.”
“Of course.” She kept her eyes skyward, working to clear the burn.
***
As soon as they returned to the stables, Casin dismounted, his actions abrupt and rigid. His own remorse and anger without an outlet, Saran handed off his hapfe to a nervous looking Daviel.
“Speak your mind, Casin.”
His friend let the stable master take the leads of his hapfe as well and marched toward Saran without hint of fear. “Ever have you been kind in manner to her until now. Today you sought to hurt her. Why, Saran?”
Folding his arms over his chest to hide the rhythmic clenching of his hands, Saran spread his legs wide and pretended to misunderstand. “You speak of Melane?”
Casin stopped in front of Saran, his eyes narrowed and glaring. They both knew he spoke of Melane. “Does it bring you pleasure?”
The question stung. Casin’s gaze was unrelenting, forcing Saran to remember the look on Melane’s expression. Excitement vivid on her face, she’d clearly enjoyed helping Casin which drove Saran to say what he had. The two of them together pierced the distance he tried to maintain.
He’d spoke without thought, guided by anger. His words had wiped away the brightness of her smile and her eyes had lost their sweet glow in an instant. It didn’t take much to know when she turned away, she did so to hide her tears.
An unexplained ache took the place of his anger. Not once could he recall causing her to shed tears deliberately. Twice now he’d treated Melane less than she deserved. Combined with his regret and feelings of insecurity that she favored Casin, Saran lashed out. “A better question is does she bring you pleasure?”
The blow wasn’t unexpected. Saran ducked but Casin swung again and this time he took the fist to the side of his torso and grunted in pain. When Casin attempted to punch again, Saran caught his balled hand in his open palm. “Hold.”
Casin shook his hand away and stepped back with jerky motions. One of his closest friends looked on him in disgust and never had Saran felt lower.
“If another warrior spoke of her thus you would not have allowed it. You belittle yourself when you speak of Melane with such a lack of honor.”
Casin left him in the stables saying nothing more once he snapped out the declaration. After the door slammed behind him, Saran remained alone, the stable hands having made themselves scarce. He wanted to deny Casin’s words but couldn’t. He spoke truth and shame coated Saran’s mouth with a bitterness he couldn’t swallow.
Chapter 9
Daily practice kept all of the warriors in a state of readiness. It was a habit Vaan instituted and one Saran did his best to follow. Today he wanted them to spar in pairs. Swords and daggers sometimes came loose in battle and they needed to be able to defeat an enemy with their fists and hands alone. Hand to hand combat required different physical strength.
Laughter trilled, breaking through his concentration before he could go out and give his directions. Saran would recognize the sound of Melane’s merriment anywhere. He gazed after her like a love sick hapfe. The contin
ued confrontations with Casin and his growing discord sent such anger roaring through him that Saran constantly battled Fenal.
Casin for his part knew of Saran’s struggle and refused to speak of his relationship with Melane. Saran wanted to appreciate the respect Casin showed for Melane as well as his care with her before other warriors. Instead, this gnawing feeling kept him on edge and on the verge of attacking a man he valued.
Saran tried to show interest in another female. Many smiled in his direction, eyes eager for an invitation yet Saran found himself unable to issue one.
As he stared out the window watching Melane toss a ball about with a male youngling, Saran accepted the strange emotion coiling through his gut. Jealousy. It was unfamiliar and uncontrolled but there nonetheless. He wanted her back. He’d lain with her first. He’d tutored her in the art of bed play and how to please a Warlord.
He was her only lover.
Casin approached the two and the youngling braced his shoulders immediately. He bowed, paying Casin the respect due a Warlord. The reaction wasn’t out of the ordinary. Youngling were trained early on to acknowledge warriors. Melane’s response though grabbed Saran’s notice. Her eyes brightened and a smile of expectancy crossed her lips. For Casin.
The truth settled in all its ugliness. He was no longer her only lover. Another had taken his place. Rage and the need to act hit with such urgency, he’d already taken several steps to rush outside. When he burst through the doors and leaped from the stairs, no one stopped him or spoke. A few servants outside scattered after one look at him. Melane tipped her head to the side and he knew, he knew she saw him but she kept speaking with Casin as if Saran meant nothing to her.
Saran halted feet away. Breath panted from his lips and his gaze reddened on the edges with the signs of Fenal. Battle rage. He planned to destroy Casin. No one touched what belonged to him. Clouds above darkened as if aligning with his ragged emotions.
Casin bowed in Melane’s direction and with the little one at his side, walked toward the stables, unaware of how close he’d come to death. Melane watched them until they disappeared before turning away and heading beyond the boundaries of the Galip home.
“You have not been your usual self, Saran.”
Before he could play the fool, the voice behind Saran stopped him. He turned to Bran. The Warlord was affable enough. A remnant from his brother’s time here and one of the first to fight to fight at Saran’s back against Thenl. “What say you?”
Bran shrugged, an ever present smile curling his lips as he came to stand to Saran’s left. “You appear on edge since the Overlord departed for his home in Raasa.”
Could everyone tell? Saran strove hard to hide his worry of Kuran, his concern for Vaan and his growing upset over Melane. “It is a difficult time for all.”
“In this I agree.” Bran nodded wisely then inclined his head toward a departing Melane. “She did not linger long before taking another. Ever did I envy you. Others mistook her reluctance but it is clear she likes a Warlord to pursue, yes?”
Saran stiffened. Bran’s smug grin implied more than his words. His eyes also contained blatant lust, which Saran did not like. Still, Saran didn’t wish to create strife with another Warlord over Melane. “I do not speak on the past.”
Melane was a part of his past now. Or at least, he tried to put her there but her face constantly stayed with him. Taunting. Teasing.
Annoyance flashed in Bran’s gaze. Then he grinned. “We will speak later of Kuran. If you will it, there are those who will venture to the unclaimed lands where he hides like a coward.”
Casin returned but without the youngling, going straight toward the group of men training. Saran signaled with a wave of his hands that he’d heard Bran and headed for his friend. They arrived at the same time to watch the hand-to-hand sparring.
Saran eyed his best warriors while a few Warlords stood on the sides to observe as well. Now would be a chance to teach the men through example and work off his frustration. He needed an able partner.
Usually Casin was one of the men Saran trusted to offer advice. Since the day in the stable, their conversations stayed terse and short. Tipping his head toward the ring and the now muddied ground torn up by the scrape of boots and falling bodies, Saran asked, “Are you up for a round, Casin?”
Lines bracketing Casin’s mouth deepened. “It will be even matched to do so, yes?”
They were closely matched in wrestling and his friend knew this. “Yes.”
“Good.” The glint in Casin’s eyes did not deter Saran. They both needed this and it wasn’t about training.
Their match was brutal as they twisted and rolled about, neither pinning the other long enough to declare a win. Soon cheers and encouragement filled the air. Bystanders calls for Saran and Casin to finish between their laughter.
Casin charged Saran catching him about the mid-section and they both slammed onto the ground. “You think only of yourself.”
Saran growled and pushed his arms up between them to shove Casin back. His friend fell and Saran rolled over to block the swinging fists. Casin slid from his hold, their legs tangling as they rocked back and forth in the mud squishing between them.
“You need not worry for Melane.”
Though this was more a wrestling than sparring match, Casin managed to get in several punches. Saran retaliated, grinning at the already dark circle forming beneath Casin’s left eye.
Casin wrapped an arm about Saran’s upper chest, causing him to lose his balance and stumble to his knees. “She is all that is good and you have treated her less.”
The words, the heat in every one stabbed at Saran’s chest. He pinned Casin and crawled over his hips to hold him down. “You know not what you speak.”
“Let her go,” Casin pleaded, bucking up and dislodging Saran. “Prove you honor the invitation you once shared and walk away.”
The very thought of another with Melane fueled Saran’s temper. He fought harder and managed to get his knee on Casin’s chest, his forearm under his throat. Casin glared, staying flat in submission but he let his anger fly. “Do you really want her, Saran? Or do you wish to keep her from others? Your eyes follow her everywhere. The other day you claimed her not fit to take to bride, yes? Now you wish to change this?”
Saran gritted his teeth unable to refute the truth Casin spoke. “I will not have this conversation with another Warlord.
“No,” Casin answered. “You do not want her. Long have I admired you but I see a change in you I find hard to respect. Where is the Warlord who rounded his warriors together to go to Raasa? Where is my friend who looked askance to me and asked if I stood for Kaban as we raced to save your brother, the Overlord?”
“I am the same.”
“No...you are not,” Casin whispered in a tone full of weariness.
Saran stood and brushed at his smeared leathers. Not allowing himself to think about what he was doing, Saran left in search of Melane. All the match had done was rouse his anger once more.
***
Speaking with Casin earlier revealed his growing interest. Melane delighted in her time with the handsome Warlord but it would be wrong to commit if her head wasn’t in the right place.
For the rest of her day off, she decided to spend it relaxing outdoors. Walks in the brisk air refreshed her and the time away allowed her thoughts to roam free. Unfortunately, those same thoughts seemed to center around Saran and her feelings for him. She wanted to put their time together behind her but his presence seemed everywhere. Her heart craved the stubborn Warlord.
She paused beside a tree with a thick trunk, its overhanging branches providing a bit of shade as she leaned against the rough wood.
“You are out alone?”
Melane jerked, her head turning to see the man to go with the voice. “Warlord Saran, what do you here?”
He strode forward, face set in grim lines. The cooling breeze of the afternoon played with the loosened strands of his black hair, which he brushed ba
ck with impatience. She held her breath when he stopped mere inches from her, the heat from his body radiating outward. His brows dipped low and she considered moving back but the tree blocked her path of escape.
“The weather is about to take a turn. The skies will open soon.”
Glancing up, Melane confirmed that the gray tones darkened and the clouds appeared moments away from unleashing a healthy rain storm. She faced a now frowning Saran. “I have been soaked before.”
His lips pressed tighter together and his fingers curled into fists at his sides. She’d never seen him this way. Usually calm and controlled, he now seemed on the verge of exploding.
“You should return. It’s not safe if you are caught out during bad weather.”
As if to underscore his point, a low rumble of thunder sounded and lightning popped in a sizzling crack of sound. Melane pushed away from the tree, her breasts brushing against his hard chest. Her sudden move caused Saran to step back but not by much.
Snippy with what sounded like an order, she leaned forward. “You don’t have to counsel me, Warlord. I am capable of taking care of myself.”
Nostrils flaring, he shoved a hand through his hair. Moments ticked by where nothing but silence grew between them. Her heart pounded but she didn’t back down from this bout of courage in facing him. After a heavy sigh, his head dropped down facing the ground as he muttered, “Are you with Casin? Does he please you?”
“What?” Shock and confusion sent her pulse racing. Was he asking about her relationship with another when he had deliberately ended things between them?
Still not facing her, Saran gritted out the question again. “I asked if you are with Warlord Casin now, Melane. It is an easy question, yes?”
She kicked him in the ankle. Melane didn’t mean it, but the reflexive action spoke to her annoyance with him. How dare he? “Who I am with is no longer your concern.”
Not by a flinch did he react to her attack. Rarely did Saran show his anger, but he lifted his head slowly and shot her a look of rage. Melane bit her lip. One didn’t provoke a deadly warrior and walk away unscathed.
Unexpected Bride (Warlord Series Book 6) Page 7