by Ava Ivy
Chapter 4
Ariel heard muffled laughter from the many warriors within hearing range who knew Bran’s penchant for lecturing her. Right as she pulled the blankets from over her head and moved to fling herself out of their bedding in order to gain temporary freedom, Bran’s muscular arm easily caught her around the waist, effortlessly hauling her up to him. With his other hand, he reached down and snatched up her fur covering. She heard several laughing remarks called out as he neatly pinned her to his side, his temper obviously on a simmering boil. She could feel the immense heat radiating from him.
“Looks like Brandos found his dolly,” one older warrior teased.
[Ariel~past]
When Ariel was little, if she wandered off, Bran and Kaid had always been sent out to find her. If Bran found her first, he would carry Ariel home with her back pressed to the right side of his chest, his arm wrapped securely across her hips, her little hand tucked around his upper arm. With her blonde braids softly hanging on either side of her little dirt-smudged, angelic face and her dress and legs dangling down freely, many people had noted that it looked like he was carrying a doll, especially whenever he hit a growth spurt. Bran had always scowled at them for teasing him, but Ariel had never felt any true anger radiating off of him. If his tone had ever gotten too gruff in response to their taunts, she had just turned her head and glanced up at him, her big violet eyes watching his face for reassurance. If he was annoyed about something, he normally refused to return her look, but she would stare him down until he caved and glanced down at her. Then she would smile at him and his eyes would grudgingly warm as he shook his head at her.
[Ariel~present]
At the moment, several more clansmen called out to them as Bran stomped by.
“I’ll be praying for you, Lass!”
“Don’t let Brandos bully you!”
“You can take him!”
Ignoring the men, Bran purposefully strode towards the outskirts of the forest, out of earshot but still in view of some of their group. It was dark but their forms would still be visible. He finally set her down in front of a large tree. Out of habit, Bran pulled her fur covering tightly around her. Then, large hands resting against his lean hips, he began crowding her backwards until she felt the reassuring bark of the tree trunk against her back, even thru the fur.
Bran’s cheekbones stood out starkly against the moonlit smoothness of his skin. The scar on one side of his face made him look even more dangerous as his eyes narrowed on her in antagonistic contemplation.
[Ariel~past]
It was a look she dreaded…a look Ariel had first seen on his face the day after she’d secretly gone to her father, happily informing him that she’d decided who she wanted to marry someday. How was she to know that Bran would take exception to her request to spend the rest of her life with him? They’d never spoken about such things. Whenever an opportunity had come about where they were able to share a few private moments together, talking had been the last thing on their minds. They’d normally been too busy doing other activities…most of which had involved Bran’s tongue in her mouth.
Brandos had stolen hundreds of kisses from her before their falling out, all when there was no way anyone else would see them. But they had gotten caught in the stables one time…
The scene had consisted of Bran leaning back against the wall, his dark head bent down, lips locked with Ariel’s as she leaned against him, hands on his chest. Thank the Heavens it had been during a very sweet, very chaste kiss. From somewhere behind her, Ariel had suddenly felt such an emotional wave of surprise, anger, and fury that her heart had practically frozen in terror. Without turning around, she’d known who had silently walked into the barn through the side door.
Kaid.
Stepping back as quickly and nonchalantly as possible, Ariel had continued to face Bran as she dramatically put her hands on her hips.
“Well, it wasn’t that great,” she’d covered for them in a relatively calm, sarcastic voice “but it was less torture than having to clean your entire bedchamber!” They’d once discussed that if they got caught kissing by anyone and needed a cover, they’d use the kissing game as an excuse.
Ariel had never felt so much raw fury coming off of Kaid before, especially not aimed at her or Bran. So she’d continued with her ruse. “You have to promise not to teach Kaid that stupid kissing game or I’ll end up doing all of his worst chores for him!” she told Bran, who’s gaze was casually looking past her, his eyes locked with Kaid’s, an arrogant smirk firmly in place on his chiseled lips.
“What is this?”
Despite the fact that she’d known he was there, Kaid’s low voice—a harsh, grating tone that Ariel had never heard him use in her presence—made her jump and gasp in surprise as she’d whirled around to face him, eyes wide with fright.
The hairs on Ariel’s arms had risen at the sheer force of Kaid’s strong emotions and her tiny, delicate claws had even come out in reflexive protection.
Ariel was still amazed that Brandos--without missing a beat--had let out a deep husky laugh at Ariel’s surprised expression. Ignoring the anger emitting off of Kaid, he’d proclaimed that it was too late now, that Kaid had already heard her say it.
Then Bran had coolly looked over at a very violent-looking Kaid and calmly claimed that he was merely trying to teach Ariel how to play the elaborate kissing game that he’d learned while visiting his father’s boyhood clan the previous summer, the same place where he’d gotten the slashing scar which he’d refused to discuss with anyone.
With a straight face, Bran had wisely grumbled that Ariel was being a slow learner, which hadn’t even earned him a pinch from her because Ariel was too uneasy about Kaid's formidable expression. When Bran insisted that Ariel would have to partner with Kaid to teach him this kissing game--because Bran sure wasn’t going to be Kaid’s partner--Kaid's temper had finally started to dissipate and cool, his curiosity and interest peeking as Bran had begun to explain the rules.
Basically, when someone told a tale, you could accuse them of lying and then demand they play the Vampire’s Truth Kissing Game with you. At any time as your opponent pecked kisses on your forehead, then cheek to cheek to lips, and down your neck, they could suddenly dart to either side as if they were going to bite your neck, trying to get you to flinch. If you flinched, it meant that you had lied. Whoever won, by either not flinching or by making someone else flinch, could either demand a kiss from the other person or make them do some hideous chore, like cleaning their bedchamber.
Unfortunately, Kaid had immediately adored the game and always wanted to play, demanding that Ariel tell him a story or accuse him of lying when he told his own tale. Ariel was so ticklish that she was abysmal at the game and was constantly getting stuck with new chores or forfeiting kisses to Kaid and Bran for flinching. She jumped every time. Suffice it to say that Kaid had not had to do any unpleasant chores in a very long time.
About a month ago, after the evening meal, Bran and Kaid had both been laid out on Kaid’s oversized bed, Kaid’s hands behind his head, discussing clan issues…
Bran was leaning back against the headboard, alternating between listening to Kaid, re-reading a book during lulls and throwing an occasional glare at her. Ariel was stuck with the chore of cleaning Kaid’s room again and she was really not in the mood. Sick to death of dusting, she abruptly pounced on top of Kaid, which he didn’t seem to mind in the least if his big grin was anything to go by. With a mulish set to her mouth, she entwined her hands with his. Then, whacking one set of their hands backwards onto the soft bed to emphasize each of her words, she growled out, “You...will…flinch…this…time!”
That had both males chuckling and Bran smirked as he rolled over on his side to watch.
Leaning back to sit on Kaid’s stomach, Ariel bared her teeth, including her tiny fangs at Kaid. “Do you see these?” she whispered slowly, running her tongue along the upper edges of her teeth. “They are very, very sharp!”
“They look sharp,” Kaid placated her with a nod, trying to hide his amused half grin.
With a determined twist of her lips she scowled at him. “I am going to bite your neck so hard this time that you will flinch every time we even mention this game in the future and then I won’t have to do your silly, stupid chores ever again! Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, his twinkling blue eyes bright with affection and amusement.
Her eyes narrowed in mock anger. “You don’t look scared.”
Widening his eyes in mock fear, Kaid stuck out his tongue, his speech garbled and funny as he spoke around it. “I am tho thcared. Pleath don’t hurt me with your tharp teethies.”
Bran chuckled and Ariel’s scowl deepened to prevent her lips from cracking a smile.
Skipping the part where he was supposed to tell a story, she slowly leaned forward and laid out on his chest, her elbows next to his ears, fingers still entangled with his. She began by chicken pecking his forehead three times, then moved to each cheek, her lips feathering lightly over his warm sun-bronzed skin.
Bran’s eyes narrowed on her, the intense green color smoldering with annoyance as his hard jaw flexed irritably. “Don’t be so brutal,” he scoffed, his tone sounding almost bitter.
Surely that wasn’t a touch of jealousy she felt coming off of him. Ariel ignored her antagonist and moved to peck above Kaid’s upper lip then right below his lower lip. His chin. Then she kissed down his throat. When she got to where his neck met his shoulder, she opened her mouth wide and slowly let her teeth sink into him, biting down…hard.
Surprised by the strength of her bite, Kaid’s broad back bowed unexpectedly and he let out a harsh expletive. With a soft growl and a tiny animalistic shake of her head, Ariel bit down even harder and he groaned out another ear burning phrase.
After that, she finally released him, her head popping up as she happily celebrated, “You actually flinched!”
Bran coughed.
His face looking a little flushed, Kaid rolled her over, lying just a bit on top as he gruffly said, “You don’t have to finish cleaning my room, Ariel. Just leave it for tomorrow and I’ll take care of it.” Getting up and immediately turning towards the door, he muttered, “I’ll be back in a little while.”
Ariel didn’t ask where he was going. She was too excited that she’d finally won. When she looked to Bran, he was just smirking at her and shaking his head.
“What?” she demanded indignantly, though her good mood was unbreakable. “I finally got him to flinch!” she celebrated again, this time with a happy little dance. “And he took losing rather well for once!” she voiced in breathy amazement.
Brandos just rolled back to his spot against the headboard. “Mmmhmm…” he murmured with another wry look, lifting his book back to eye level.
Unconcerned by his odd response and excited that she didn’t have to do Kaid’s chores, Ariel hurriedly slipped under the covers and then wiggled over next to Bran for her required sleep companionship, her back pressing into the side of him. Ariel’s wariness for sleeping alone overshadowed the disquieting fact that Bran thoroughly despised her. Even though he was lying above the blanket, it was still comforting to feel his solid form as she let her eyes drop closed. She was just glad Bran hadn’t gotten up and left yet because she knew Kaid would be gone a while if he was going to see Kristin. Maybe Ariel could fall asleep quickly before Bran went to his own room.
She didn’t see the grudgingly bemused warmth that filled Bran’s gaze when he peered down at the petite new occupant snuggled up against his hip in bed.
Her breathing had soon grown calm and rhythmic.
Sometime later that night, Ariel awoke, a little surprised but not concerned to find Brandos dozing right next to her in bed, his body now under the covers. He had removed his tunic and the top of his broad, sculpted shoulders reflected very nicely in the dying firelight. He was lying on his stomach, his head turned away from her on the pillow, his thickly muscled arm tucked about her waist, holding her firmly to his side. It was a reluctantly endearing gesture.
Rolling towards him, Ariel brushed a soft kiss on his smooth, bulging shoulder as she moved further up in bed. An amused smile tugged at her full lips as she continued to angle herself so that her head would lie right next to his on the pillow, knowing that her sharing his pillow would, no doubt, annoy him in the morning. With her hair piling up in a mass of big pale curls, which overflowed onto the back of his head, she finally lay her face down and let out a soft, wistful sigh. Then she absently pulled the covers around both of them and snuggled in closer. Her dreams of marrying Bran had long since died but Ariel wholeheartedly wished that they could at least be friends again.
When his arm suddenly tightened around her waist, Ariel silently gasped in surprise, but it was the name that he sleepily murmured next that made her freeze.
“Emily…?”
Emily was the girl he was currently courting. She was sweet and kindhearted and Ariel actually liked her.
Barely swallowing past the lump in her throat, Ariel slowly began to lift her head and ease away from Bran when she heard him let out a light chuckle, right as his arm locked her in place against his side.
Without even turning his head to look at her, Bran’s deep husky voice penetrated the darkness. “I knew it was you, Ariel. Now go to sleep and quite kissing my shoulder.”
Outraged that she’d been caught giving him affection, Ariel grumbled, “Well, maybe if you didn’t bully people around all day, your shoulders wouldn’t be so freakishly huge that my mouth couldn’t even get by without bumping into them! I probably loosened a tooth!”
“Mmmhmm…is that how it happened?” he countered sarcastically, seeming oddly pleased.
“Yes!” she whispered stubbornly, somehow managing to feel mortified, embarrassed and still unbelievably sick on the inside from when he’d mentioned the other girl’s name. She was furious with her heart for even caring.
Turning in his tight hold, she lay there stiffly with her back not touching him, feeling an intense weariness start to settle over her.
“Relax and go to sleep,” he ordered after a moment. When Ariel didn’t obey, she heard him move towards her, then felt his chest pressing into her back. His voice was much closer as he intentionally tried to irritate her. “Are you crying?”
For once, Ariel’s answer was not an immediate denial. “Yes!” she lied in a grumpy whisper. “Obviously, my tooth hurts!”
He let out a low, husky chuckle. “Do you want me to check your tooth for you?”
“No. Just stay away from me,” she growled, momentarily forgetting that telling Bran not to do something was like waving a red cloth in front of a bull.
Bran’s big hand moved to cup her jaw. Taking a deep breath, he bent down, pressing his mouth to her cheek and blowing, which produced a weird bubbling noise. It was another endearing gesture that he had often pretended to use as punishment when she was younger and up to mischief. His actions caused a long gurgle of laughter to spill from her throat.
“It’s all better now,” he gruffly assured her, keeping his chest pressed up against her back, with his arm firmly around her waist.
After a moment, his voice broke into the darkness. “I’m not marrying Emily.”
Ariel harrumphed, not believing him. “Why would you be courting Emily if you already know you aren’t going to choose her as your wife?”
“Trust me, there are other reasons,” Bran murmured evasively, seeming almost embarrassed.
“She’s very pretty and kindhearted,” Ariel offered generously, trying hard not to be jealous. “I like her better than any of the other ones you’ve dated.”
“Well, I’m not marrying her,” he firmly repeated.
“If you say so. Just…well…try to be nice when you end the relationship, alright?” Ariel cautioned a bit awkwardly. “Don’t tell her how horrible you think she is…or that you wish she’d never been born…or
anything else charming like that. It would hurt her heart.”
He hummed in thought. “Do you think I could tell her that I’m breaking up with her because--when I eventually have children--I would prefer them to turnout somewhat intelligent?” Bran offered teasingly.
Ariel tried and failed to suppress a horrified snort of laughter. “Bran! No!” she gasped. “Do not say that to her! That would be so rude!”
She could feel him shaking with laughter behind her and smiled. “Emily is actually very smart, Bran. She just has no interest in what interests you. She has no desire to discuss swords and fighting techniques with you all day.”
Even though he didn’t have to, he explained, “Sam broke it off with Emily to start seeing one of Priscilla’s catty friends… someone who is not suited for him whatsoever and only started flirting with him because Priscilla was mad at Emily. I offered to secretly pretend that I’m courting Emily in order to make Sam jealous.”
“Oh…!” Ariel whispered, the tight pressure in her chest easing a bit. “That’s actually very kind of you, Bran. I’m impressed.”
He grunted. “In exchange she’s going to embroider a tunic for me. My sister has been too busy lately with her children to embroider a new one the way I like it done.”
“Ah…that makes more sense,” Ariel murmured. “Emily is far too nice and sweet for you.”
Bran bit her lightly on the shoulder for that comment and then muttered sternly, “Now, go to sleep!”
“I won’t tell anyone,” she assured him in a whisper.
“I knew you wouldn’t,” he replied quietly.
Ariel smiled into the dark, blinking back a tiny bit of emotion over the fact that he still somewhat trusted her, at least. Slowly easing away from him a little, she gasped when his thick, muscular arm firmly clamped her back against him.
“Stop moving,” he growled.
“I can’t help it. My tooth is still bothering me,” she whispered just to be difficult, smiling when she felt his hand move from around her waist to wrap around her jaw again. She couldn’t help it. She was partial to his cheek kisses from when she’d been a small child. They made her feel immense affection towards the big tyrant. And…she had missed his playfulness.
Ariel was already scrunching her neck and giggling softly when his big body threateningly leaned over hers. A surprised noise came out of her throat when his mouth didn’t land on her cheek, however. Instead, his lips came down and covered hers in a very thorough, deep kiss.
When he pulled back, his voice was husky as he demanded, “Better now?”
“Hmm?” she mumbled absently, almost in a daze.
He gave a very male sound of approval and slowly elaborated, “Does your tooth feel better now?”
Taking in another big draw of air, she croaked, “Yes!”
“Good. Then go to sleep, baby girl,” he ordered smugly, seeming oddly pleased with himself, especially since he’d mockingly used one of Kaid’s pet names for her. He only used one of those when he was in the best of moods.
As he adjusted his body right behind hers, Ariel was torn with conflicting emotions. She was pleased that he’d kissed her and yet she wasn’t. Since their break-up, Ariel had figured out that if he happened to be more kind to her one evening, it would change nothing on the morrow. He would still be just as mean to her as ever, usually worse.
[Ariel~present]
Ariel snapped her thoughts back to the predicament that she was currently in…standing under a dark night sky, sheltered beneath a canopy of leaves with her ex-boyfriend’s big, muscular frame crowding her against a tree. Even though Bran’s face was currently very close to hers, she knew he had absolutely no interest in playing a silly kissing game with her…or kissing her at all, for that matter.
This was the closest she’d been to Brandos in forever.
[Ariel~past]
Normally, in the great hall or while they were on the training field, Brandos was the epitome of indulgent dark charm and control to everyone, except her. He didn’t even want her looking at him. And if he caught her eyes on his face during a meal, he would go out of his way to embarrass her, verbally picking and goading Ariel until she finally lost her calm demeanor and retaliated.
Several times he had made her so unbelievably angry that she’d slung the contents of her tankard of ale in his face, then run for her life through the dining area, swerving around tables as he slowly stalked after her, flashing green eyes anticipating his wicked intentions as he wiped his face off with a cloth, the MacDonnel clansmen grinning in amusement and chuckling at their distracting antics.
For the past few months, Brandos’ seething dislike of their Lord’s good-natured daughter had been a topic of much speculation. But no one truly wanted the damaged relationship to be mended because their heated, quick-witted verbal confrontations and aggressive acts of mischief toward one another were an anticipated source of entertainment and hilarity that were always repeated with much mirth and chatted about for days.
Sometimes, when Brandos caught her, he’d fling her over his shoulder and then march down to the closest pond and toss her wiggling, protesting form in. Those were on days that she was drained with fatigue from healing other people’s ailments.
[Ariel~present]
Now…bending even closer to her, Bran began his disgruntled questioning. His tone was a barely controlled hiss as he demanded, “Tell me that you haven’t taken a fancy to Robert!”
She made a face. “Perhaps in the past I’ve shown extremely poor taste in men, but my standards have never been that low.”
“Then why did you pick him so quickly?”
Ariel was unable to prevent an amused smirk, her tone full of sarcasm. “The two of you are such good friends. Surely I would have been safe with him.”
Bran’s face darkened as he mistakenly took her statement seriously. “He may be part of our clan and I am duty bound to protect him with my life, but he is no friend of mine. And you are most definitely not safe in his presence.”
Even though Ariel had assured Kaid she would smooth things over with Bran, she postponed doing so for just a wee bit longer so she could sweetly point out, “Well, it seemed as though Lauren felt quite safe around Robert.”
Leaning down to her ear, he growled, “Apparently you are feeling very safe tonight, as well, little one.”
She took note of the muscle ticking in his jaw. A fleeting thought that Brandos had been jealous when she’d chosen Robert was immediately dismissed. Bran had thrown their relationship and longtime friendship away like an unwanted apple core and--just like a shriveled remnant of fruit--he would never want her back. Unfortunately for Ariel, this warrior was extremely appealing. The one man she’d always imagined marrying.
“Hmm…” she purred. “I guess I’m feeling all coddled and loved after your unusual display of overprotectiveness earlier.” Her mockery was evident, her teasing smile, impish.
“You are Lord MacDonnel’s daughter. It’s my duty to protect you,” he bit out.
She snorted. “Well, your normal method of protecting me leaves a lot to be desired and I am beginning to grow tired of it,” she retorted peevishly.
“Are you?” he purred, amused for some reason by her irritation. Then his face sobered. “So…are you infatuated with Robert now? Do you have your sights set on him?”
Ariel took in a deep breath and let it out. “No matter how I respond you are going to choose to think the worst of me. You always do,” she muttered aloofly.
His voice dropped to a low rumble. “Have you been seeing him in secret?”
Ariel went very still, mauling her bottom lip with her teeth as she mischievously decided to live very, very dangerously. With wide violet eyes, she innocently glanced up at him, lowering her voice to a confidential whisper, “Is it very obvious?”
Ariel heard his loud indrawn breath right before his big hands clamped down on her, practically strangling her upper arms. She gasped when her feet left the ground as he
effortlessly brought her nose-to-nose with his gorgeous, scowling face.
“I was only teasing you!” she whispered laughingly, thoroughly amused. “Put me down!”
In utter silence, Brandos continued to stare at her face in the moonlight, apparently assessing whether or not she was telling him the truth. Ariel knew why he doubted her, for they’d led their own secret relationship for years.
[Ariel~past]
It had started small, with Bran being affectionate and playful with her when no one else was looking. Like secretly helping her with her saddle…gently tugging a lock of her hair…or giving her an affectionate shove every now and then. Not to mention all the fake injuries Bran had feigned just so he could trap her in a hug and affectionately kiss the top of her head.
Their first kiss had occurred one night in the dimly-lit, deserted stables while Kaid was away, traveling with Lord MacDonnel on clan business. Brandos had unsuccessfully been trying to drag a cantankerous older horse down the center isle of the large structure and into its stall. Unfortunately, Bran had lost the rope tugging contest when the wily horse had unexpectedly taken several steps forward, causing him to fly backwards, slamming Ariel’s willowy frame to the ground, and landing right on top of her. Bran had been horrified that he’d seriously harmed her, but Ariel--with her odd sense of humor about certain things--had limply laid there in the fresh pile of hay, laughing uncontrollably for several long moments at the memory of the comical, shocked look on Bran’s face when he’d rolled over and realized who he had plowed down.
While she laughed, Bran had worriedly smoothed his large hands over her slender frame, checking for any broken bones. As a result, his eyes had gradually begun to warm in appreciation.
A moment later, when he’d reluctantly started to rise, Ariel had set her hand on his forearm, stopping him. Then she had admitted that she actually was hurt. An anxious look had come over Bran’s face once more until she awkwardly glanced away, nervously licking her full bottom lip as she shyly whispered that her mouth kind of felt bruised and terribly battered. Then she’d slid Bran an impish look, one expectant brow tilting in challenge.
Bran was several years older than her, so he had been much more experienced at kissing.
A knowledgeable glint had suddenly entered his green gaze and he’d raised one dark, curious brow, observing her with bold interest. When his attention shifted to her mouth, the expression in his eyes had changed, causing her breath to hitch. Heart pounding in a wild beat, Ariel had been excited and alarmed at the realization that Bran was actually going to kiss her.
Bending his dark head, Bran gazed at her for a breath-held moment. “Finally…” he’d whispered, surprising her with the amount of emotion in his tone. Then his lips were warm and gentle as they moved over hers, completely laying claim to her soft, generous mouth. He kissed her with a hunger she soon met, her mouth becoming more experienced with each passing moment of the embrace. When her arms wrapped around his broad back, Ariel didn’t realize that she was using supernatural strength as her fingers dug into his shoulders, until he gave a low growl of approval. She soon learned that he liked that evidence of strength. Their first kiss had been a very long one. And she had enjoyed it even more, when he’d deepened the kiss by angling his head and fusing his mouth to hers as he began a teasing game with his tongue which had left Ariel in a complete sensual daze afterward.
[Ariel~present]
Snapping her attention back to where she presently hung in the air, hoisted up by Bran’s strong arms, Ariel started trying to reason with him in a low whisper, “You know me too well to ever think that I would get serious with a male like that. If I was truly seeing Robert in secret, I would’ve killed him by now. Just yesterday Mary and another maid were discussing his current woman of the week. And that maidservant even admitted to being one of his conquests!” Her cheeks flushed with color but that didn’t stop her from whispering, “From what the maid told me, the reports that Robert is quite talented with his mouth are all true.” She waggled her eyebrows twice, just to be annoying.
It worked.
Between clenched teeth Brandos growled, “Mary should not be allowing you to listen to such gossip.”
Ariel snorted. “If anything, I’m the one corrupting sweet Mary, not the other way around. Now…aren’t those feeble arms of yours getting tired yet?” she hissed, wiggling her dangling feet. “Put me down or I’m going to kick you. Or better yet, I’ll kiss you!” Her lips twisted in bitter irony. “And we both know you’d really hate that!”
When he didn’t immediately do as commanded, she gritted out, “Fine!” Then she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, knowing it would irritate him and thus hasten her landing. Five quick, playful, randomly placed kisses on the scarred side of his face was how long it took before he stopped seeing red and abruptly plunked her back down on the ground. When she stumbled, he grudgingly caught her by the waist, steadying her.
Still feeling disgruntled with him, Ariel abruptly pulled out of his hold. And, even though she could sense that her show of distaste for his touch had annoyed Brandos, she perceived that he was no longer furious with her. He was now wavering between confusion and…perhaps a touch of jealousy? She must be reading him wrong. Or there were lingering emotions over Lauren’s betrayal weaving into this discussion.
“Be warned that there are now guards assigned to watch his movements all night, every night of this hunt.”
Ariel wanted to end any thought in his mind that she liked that silly man. “Bran…” she started then quickly fixed her error before he could embarrass her with a reminder that only his friends called him Bran and she was not his friend. This normally caused her to insert foul words in place of his name when she addressed him, which caused all bystanders to laugh. “Brandos,” she began again with a sigh, “you go out of your way to make my life miserable on a daily basis. You act like I’m the worst person in all the Highlands. And you leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that you have little desire for Lord MacDonnel's awful, ill-mannered daughter. Yet, if given a choice, I would still pick you an infinite number of times over Robert.”
Dark brows pulled together in a suspicious frown. “Why would you do that?”
She sighed again and shrugged. “Believe it or not, there is a difference—even if it’s only slight—between a man who loudly proclaims that I’m worthless and one who flagrantly demonstrates it by sleeping with every other woman in the clan. I have no interest in a man like that.”
Exuding more guilt than she’d imagined him capable of, he pushed a rough hand through his hair before grumbling, “It would not just be you. Men like that don’t change…for any female. And I don’t think you are worthless, Ariel. I know how much you have helped my father when his back ails him and you’re a good friend to all of my sisters.” Inhaling deeply, he blew out a breath. “Remind me to tell Kaid that when I die, you are not allowed to stand and pay tribute to me at my burial.”
“It’s too late, I’ve already signed up as the first to speak,” she popped off.
Despite her teasing words, the reminder of how worthless he constantly tried to make her feel, how many girls he’d flaunted in front of her and the ugly things he said to her on a daily basis, had Ariel withdrawing within herself to a well-guarded place where he couldn’t hurt her. Brandos didn’t like her gaze on him while they were eating in the hall but when they spoke alone, she was sure he preferred looking into her eyes. He had always adored her ever-changing violet gaze--that part of their relationship hadn’t been completely feigned on his part--so she refused to give it to him now. Crossing her arms over her chest she kept her gaze to the left of his shoulder and was more standoffish, even as she grudgingly admitted, “I have not forgotten the fond memories from when you used to consider me your friend. I would only say those.”
He curiously watched her for a moment and then his voice was guarded as he coaxed, “Like what?”
She answered with an indifferent shrug of her should
ers.
“You can’t think of any good memories of us?” he cajoled, pursing his lips.
Ariel let out a sigh, as though she were admitting defeat. “Does it even matter?”
“Just wondering what you would say. I might need to tweak your answers,” he murmured in a low voice, almost as if he were trying to lighten her mood.
Ariel ignored his teasing tone but then grudgingly admitted what she’d been thinking about earlier, “I suppose I’d mention when I was really little and you used to help Kaid search for me after I’d wandered off. You dutifully carried me thru the village and near the training fields but never truly cared a whit when people tossed out teasing comments at you all the way back.”
He grunted. “Aye. Sometimes when a clansman is looking for you, they’ll still ask me if I know where my dolly is. You were a cute little mite back then.”
“And then there was the time you didn’t tell on me for daring you to jump off the highest branch in the tree.”
“When I broke my leg.”
She rolled her eyes, denying his claim just to be aggravating. “You merely dreamed that you broke your leg.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “The broken bone was protruding from my skin. It was a horrid sight that had me fainting like a wee lass. Then you healed it while I was blacked out.”
“Your imagination,” she harrumphed.
“Scared the hell out of me when I woke up and found your little body crumpled on the ground next to me but my leg was sturdy, unharmed and actually stronger than it had ever been. But I still got in trouble because you took forever to wake up and everyone thought I had dared you to jump out of that tree. Even Kaid--who knows you can jump like a gazelle--was mad at me for letting you get hurt. He didn’t talk to me for a week.”
Ariel’s eyes sparkled with a familiar mischief. A small titter of amusement escaped as she finally looked at him, followed by a silent gasp of surprise when a devastating half grin spread across his full lips. It was so reminiscent of the adoring looks he used to give her on a daily basis that a sharp painful ache went thru Ariel and she had to look away again.
“When you are not angering me, I guard you better than most anyone else,” he told her, far too smugly.
“Oh, aye…like you did a few months ago when we were sword fighting on the training field and you sliced me in the side with your blade?”
“I will do it again, too! You must learn to protect your side against stronger opponents,” he told her unapologetically but Ariel could feel the intense wave of guilt he emitted. He had not meant to hurt her.
“I almost bled to death!” she huffed, thoroughly disgruntled. Kaid had been unbelievably irate, to say the least.
“You will protect your side better in the future, won’t you?”
Ariel glared up at him. “Aye,” she finally admitted grudgingly.
He let out a puff of surprised laughter and racked a hand through his dark locks. “Admit that to Kaid in the morning, will you? I don’t think he has quite forgiven me yet. It’s only recently that he has begun speaking to me civilly again.”
Sarcasm oozed from her as she stretched the truth in order to ease some of this warrior’s lingering guilt. “Sure, I will admit that to him…right after I inform him that I may have exaggerated my pain level from that incident.” Ariel hadn’t exaggerated the burning pain. It had hurt excruciatingly bad, physically and emotionally.
She felt his large warm hand encircle her throat and threateningly squeeze, the aggressive action making Ariel gurgle with laughter.
He bent to her ear and growled warningly, “Ariel…!”
Muffling more laughter, she automatically slid her fingers between her throat and his encircling hand so he would release his hold.
Letting go of her, he sighed. “That look you gave me right after it happened haunted me for weeks,” he murmured, tormenting his dark brown hair. “I thought I’d turned the sword so that the flat side would hit you. It was only when I’d looked down at my weapon afterwards that I saw the blood smeared on it.” He glanced away, letting out a long breath.
[Ariel~past]
Ariel didn’t know what look she had given him, but the sword fight had occurred about a month after they’d broken up. In that short time span, the notoriously unattainable warrior--who had spent the past few years seemingly indifferent to any female pursuit--had suddenly started parading around numerous giggling, excited females on his arm.
He’d also begun verbally poking fun of Ariel in the great hall to such an aggressive extent that the two of them would always end up in dramatic arguments with food flying and her nimble little body finding new creative and humorous ways of escaping Bran’s brutish strength as he tried to chase her down in front of their audience. They were better than any hired act, singer or flutist as they loudly bandied back and forth. Bran’s dark, handsome good looks, flashing green eyes, square jaw and the simmering, hostile anger that made him do just about anything to her in retaliation, was exciting to everyone. And Ariel’s quick wit and biting, antagonistic remarks--which would make the warrior’s anger flame higher--were always a crowd favorite.
So, when somebody suggested a spur-of-the-moment sword match between the two of them, the news spread like wildfire and clan members turned out in droves.
During their contest, she’d been meeting his sword thrusts very easily for several long moments, to such a degree that people were beginning to whisper about it. Though she’d always pretended otherwise, Ariel was far more advanced than anyone else in this clan. Her speed, agility, quickness, eyesight and hearing were all far superior. Although inhuman strength was one of her characteristics, she always pretended to lose to the men in order to protect the clan’s pride, which was based on the strength of their warriors. Ariel knew that she needed to start visibly weakening soon lest people think her more different than they already did. And she hated being considered different. Unfortunately, she had chosen to start tiring on a hard downward stroke that Bran had put all his strength into and though she belatedly tried to put more power into deflecting it, the sword had come down, slicing deep into her side.
Ariel had cried out in pain, her hand protectively flying to the spot as she gazed up at the warrior in horrified disbelief.
With a snort of laughter, Bran had disdainfully asked, “Did that hurt? You’re so cold, you probably couldn’t feel it!”
He had sounded so cruel and uncaring that heartache had tightened to a knot in Ariel’s throat and all her built-up, chaotic emotions had flooded to the forefront. Still clutching her injured side with one hand, her big, pain-filled violet eyes had begun to overflow with tears. The thought of this young warrior, whom she’d erroneously offended with her marriage proposal, now hating her so much that he’d intentionally injured her and then laughed about it, had set her lower lip to trembling.
“Why did you do that?” she had whispered, her voice quavering. “Do you really hate me that much?” Her words were quiet but full of emotion.
A sudden look of confusion had sobered his handsome features. “What?” His gaze never leaving her face, alarm had filtered into his lowered voice. “Ariel…?” Eyes dropping to the hand she was using to clutch her side, where the blood was starting to drench through her tunic, Bran had blanched in horror, suddenly understanding. Glancing toward his sword, he had seen the damning red and had dropped the weapon as if it had burned him, his face going white with shock. “Somebody find Mary!” he commanded hoarsely. The order was immediately repeated amongst the crowd and several young boys anxiously raced towards the castle to find Ariel’s maid.
Even though Ariel had felt as if her knees were going to buckle under her, she had stubbornly turned, pulling away from Bran when he grabbed her shoulder, insisting that she needed to sit down. Although she had been trying to put up a brave front, her mind had been so filled with pain that she had barely been able to make any sense of her scrambled thoughts.
She’d heard Kaid anxiously pushi
ng through the crowd towards her but Ariel had blocked out his loud heated remarks to Bran as she continued to blindly walk through the parting crowd. Away from Bran. Away from her clansmen…but they still saw when she let her beloved sword slide through her fingers to quietly thump onto the grass. Then she’d slowly walked behind the nearby stables, still clutching her side as she carefully lowered her body to the ground and closed her eyes against the excruciating pain. Ariel knew Kaid would come help her in a moment. She hadn’t thought so many others would follow her or that they’d yell out in alarm when they saw her curled up on the ground, her actions indicating just how badly she’d been injured.
Ariel had been in so much pain at the time that she hadn’t even cared about her silly pride.
And she’d been relieved to feel a large male hand cover her own, helping stave off blood loss. It had been Bran’s father, whom she dearly loved. The whole clan knew that Ariel had a severe phobia about getting blood in her hair. Even a small drop of it would send her into a weird panic. So when she reached up in a protective gesture and put an arm over her head, her bloodied fingers digging into her scalp and hair in an inadvertent gesture of extreme agony, that’s when the realization that she was truly hurt had hit her clan members. Their wave of emotions--horror and fear--had washed over Ariel in a tidal wave.
They loved her, aye, but Ariel was also their clan’s main healer, and she had saved countless lives, even from a very young age. If Ariel died, it would mean the death and suffering of so many more to come.
[Ariel~present]
Letting the disturbing memories fade back into the recesses of her mind, Ariel refocused on her current predicament…
In her spot under the tree, she warily glanced up into Bran’s brooding face. “Well, you did prove that I could get hurt, just like everyone else. I think some of the clan thought I was invincible or something. Kaid is so watchful of me that I rarely get injured.”
His brutal voice was a low murmur as he scoffed, “You don’t often get hurt because you are different and odd.”
Bran always became extremely defensive and annoyed when the sword incident was brought up but Ariel was not going to let him take it out on her. “I am not! I--”
He cut off her denial. “You try so hard to hide what’s glaringly obvious. Everyone just pretends ignorance so you won’t burn down the villages with your witchery,” he callously exaggerated.
His words were like a physical blow. Feeling as if he had just slapped her in the face, Ariel immediately felt her eyes misting with tears. Why could this warrior always make her want to cry? Even when her half-sister, Priscilla, had repeated what she’d overheard Bran telling their father--the real reason why Brandos had not wanted to marry her--it had not hurt as much as his words did now. Bran was being hateful. From the moment he’d ended their friendship, until now, he had never thrown her peculiarities in her face during one of their public arguments. They were alone now, however, which was rare, and Kaid was nowhere around to overhear and get angry.
“You, of all people, know that I am not a witch!” she whispered fiercely.
He snorted derisively. “Why exactly is it a comfort to you that you’re not a witch?”
“Witches are believed to be evil. They are shunned because most people believe that they use dark magic.” Then she repeated, “I’m not a witch.”
He let out a low, mocking chuckle. “Do you really think it’s a good sign, that when you tried to visit the most powerful witch in all the highlands, she became so terrified at the sight of you—a small, beautiful, sweet-looking child—that she huddled in her house, screeching for you to go away and never come back?”
Ariel looked away from him, distraught that one of the best memories she had of Brandos was being tarnished by his hatefulness.
[Ariel~past]
Years ago, when Kaid had been away for a few days, Ariel had snuck out to secretly visit the notorious witch that lived deep in the Highlands in order to see if the all-knowing woman could enlighten her on where her unique healing abilities stemmed. Ariel had been very young, around twelve or thirteen, certainly not old enough to traverse the dangerous woods alone. But when the old crone had spotted her approaching, the crippled up lady had practically sprinted towards the safety of her small, sturdy house, immediately locking it up tight. She wouldn’t let Ariel in her home nor would she answer any of her shy, politely spoken questions. The woman had repeatedly crept over and peered through the message slot on her front door, screeching for the young child to go away and never ever come near her again. Ariel had been hurt and offended that the lady had acted as if Ariel were some kind of monster, like she was evil.
It was later that same day when Brandos had found Ariel dejectedly huddled behind a tree in the forest, her slender arms wrapped around her long legs, chin on her knees, eyes aglow with seething resentment, her pretty face streaked with dust and tears. Although he’d been furious with her for disappearing for such a long period of the day without telling anyone where she was going, Bran had seen how shaken and upset she had appeared to be. Without saying a word about her reprehensible behavior, he’d cautiously sat down next to Ariel and promptly curved the pretty, fragile-looking young girl into his oversized frame, coddling her against his chest and firmly patting her back as he’d seen Kaid do a thousand times before.
Dejectedly laying her cheek against his chest, Ariel had felt so cold and withered on the inside that she had lifelessly laid there, not even caring enough to respond to the concerned questions Bran kept asking. It was not until she felt an increasing wave of fear coming from Brandos, as he realized just how despondent and traumatized his friend seemed to be, that she finally acknowledged his presence.
Then, after quietly assuring her numerous times that he would never breath a word of her secret to anyone, Ariel had finally confessed where she had gone and what had occurred.
A strong surge of fury and menacing intentions had sizzled over Bran’s young frame, right before he’d assured Ariel that he would go slay the foolish old hag for daring to treat his wee lass so abysmally. Though it had taken her quite a bit of time to convince Brandos, she’d eventually dissuaded her big, infuriated friend from harming the witch, making him promise not to hurt the older woman.
Bran had always been a regular figure in her life, his twinkling green eyes seeming to sparkle a little brighter whenever he saw her. Dozens of times—when Kaid wasn’t near at hand--Bran had teasingly accused her of liking him, and then in the next breath he would casually give her orders that she was not allowed to like anyone else but him. And every time Kaid was away on a trip—even from a very young age—she had memories of Bran’s mom packing the two of them food before he led Ariel off into the woods for a secret picnic when they’d spend the whole day just exploring the woods together.
But his willingness to go up against the powerful witch in order to avenge Ariel’s wounded spirit had ignited something inside of her that day--a secret crush of monumental proportion. From that point on, their relationship had subtly begun to change, slowly evolving everyday into something a little bit more special and exciting, though their friendly indifference had always been firmly in place when Kaid or anyone else was near at hand.
[Ariel’s present day.]
Brandos was still the only one who knew about her trek through the woods. However, he had never brought it up in such a confrontational way. “Even if the witch was scared of me, her opinion doesn’t really matter.”
“And why is that?” His voice was devoid of emotion.
“Well, because I’m not evil,” she whispered, her eyes locking with his.
When he merely stared back at her with a look of cool disdain, not seeming to agree with her self-assessment, it tore at Ariel’s heart and she felt her confidence waiver a little.
“Well, I know I’m not a bad person!” she stated impatiently, her tone indicating her displeasure.
Bran still looked unconvinced. His clenched jaw and continued s
ilence screamed his low opinion of her.
At his wordless conviction of her character, some tiny flame of hope inside Ariel’s chest finally smothered and went out, leaving her nothing but bleak despair. Brandos apparently had not even the tiniest soft spot left in his heart for her. Ariel knew he actually had very good manners and was quite charming. She had seen him at holiday banquets, girls all around him, vying for his attention as he arrogantly smirked down at them.
Ariel was the only one he now thought was too far beneath him to bother with courtesy.
“Why are you always so mean to me lately?” she demanded, appearing visibly distressed now.
“Because I don’t like you,” he broodingly answered, the same as always, dismissing her curiosity.
“So that’s why you and I can’t be friends anymore?” She looked heartbreakingly vulnerable, her violet eyes unhappy, as she continued, “Because you think that I’m evil and bad and you find me annoying?”
“I find you very annoying,” he confirmed brusquely. “Your selection of Robert earlier annoyed me.”
Ariel let out a light, amused chuckle. “I could not resist. It was too tempting.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Your face…” she giggled again. “Soo funny…”
He merely scowled down at her.
A sheepish look came over her face as Ariel stared up into his stern, reproachful green gaze. “I’m sorry,” she apologized with an exaggerated sigh. “Do you think that’s why I’m not married to anyone in our clan as of yet? Because I’m too annoying?” She knew better than to ask this blunt male such questions but was far too curious to see what demeaning comment he would come up with in response.
His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing in what might have been jealousy. “You are not married because your father hasn’t paid anyone enough money to marry you yet.”
Fixing him with a reproachful look, she berated, “That’s not very polite.”
He shrugged broad shoulders, as if he couldn’t care less whether or not he was polite to someone like her.
Ariel didn’t know why she continued to speak to Bran, it was as if she needed to discuss these things with him and she’d waited so long…as if she was inadvertently trying to get answers out of him with her remarks. She was still so confused about why he had abruptly turned on her.
“Priscilla says Father is not going to provide me with a dowry.” Was that why he had ended up not wanting her? Had Bran thought he would get money for marrying Lord MacDonnel’s illegitimate daughter and then discovered that he wouldn’t?
Brandos blinked in surprise and there was a genuine look of confusion and doubt in his green eyes. “I’m sure your father will provide you with a dowry,” he murmured. Then, as if realizing that he might have just made her feel better, he quickly added, “Otherwise, no one will have you.”
Tilting her head in an unconsciously adorable fashion, Ariel slid him a withering look.
When his firm lips twitched with suppressed mirth, amused by her expression, Ariel felt that even though this warrior wasn’t being very nice, he was secretly enjoying spending this time alone with her, just like he’d enjoyed their private days together whenever Kaid had been traveling.
“I have a sack of coins hidden away. How much do you think a fair dowry would cost?” she ventured cautiously, half-serious.
Something flashed across his face as he gave her a long, assessing look. “That depends on how high you are trying to reach. Who do you have in mind?”
She shrugged, twisting her hands together nervously. “Well, lately several of the warriors have become more approachable and amusing when I’m around—probably because you’re not around me as much anymore. But I don’t want to mistake their welcoming behavior for more than it actually is.”
Besides the brief narrowing of his eyes, Bran’s face masked any emotions beneath the surface. But Ariel was surprised to feel a wave of what might have been anger and bitterness. “So tell me about these overly-friendly males.” Brandos reached out and took her arm, pulling her a fraction closer, his look of irony clearly evident. “What are their names?”
When she didn’t respond, he announced, “I’m sure Kaid will be very interested in hearing about them.”
“They have not been overly friendly! Not how you are with your… friends,” she ended awkwardly. “I merely wanted to know how much you think a dowry would cost.”
He snorted. “You will never have enough gold for that.”
Ariel’s heart sank, all her hopes for the future being momentarily dashed. Mulishly pulling out of his grip, she crossed her arms and demanded testily, “Why would it cost so much? The girls in the village are always getting married!”
His tone was heavy with sarcasm. “Yes, but your dowry will have to be much bigger than a pig or two chickens,” he goaded, just to rile her.
Ariel stared at him a long time, reading no deception in his demeanor. “But…why?” There was an air of vulnerability about her.
When Brandos remained silent, a look of wary confusion flitted over Ariel’s pretty, pale features. Then realization struck and she looked away, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
“Oh…” Unable to hide the hurt in her eyes, she kept her lashes low, her gaze averted as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat before quietly admitting, “Now I remember...”
He mutely stood there waiting for her to explain but Ariel merely moved to the side of the tree and took a cautious step back from him.
“What do you remember?” he questioned impatiently, obviously annoyed that he was being forced to ask.
Putting her hand on the back of the tree, Ariel quietly drug her claws down the rough bark, slowly but meditatively shredding it off in five straight lines to release some of her agitation, as she grumbled, “The reason why nobody wants to marry me…” She shook her head and gave a short laugh that contained no mirth. “Stupid of me to forget, huh?”
“And what reason would that be?” Bran demanded, curiously watching her scratch the tree.
If looks could kill, Bran would have been a smoldering piece of charred remains. “Because I’m illegitimate,” she reminded him in a neutral tone, proud of herself for not sounding bitter or accusatory. “That’s why it would cost so much.”
Bran’s eyes lost all traces of calm. Jaw clenching, he stepped forward and grabbed her arms, practically shaking her in his anger. “Nooo!” he growled very low. “It’s not because you’re illegitimate! It’s because you’re irritating and annoying…like…I…said.”
Ariel didn’t know what it was about his reproachful words, but it made the tension in her chest ease and a slow, unconsciously grateful smile spread across her pretty face. “Thank you,” she whispered softly. Her claws had already rescinded as she loosely set her hands on his waist, further surprising him when she tilted her head forward and cautiously laid her temple down on his chest in a very brief, chaste hug. She didn’t want to touch him too much. His accusation of Ariel constantly throwing herself at him, on the day they had broken up, was currently too fresh in her mind.
When she moved to step back, Ariel felt broad hands flatten on her back, forcing her flush against Bran’s oversized chest for a real hug. Slightly turning his big body, Bran shielded her from anyone who could be curiously straining their eyes in the dark to watch them. With a tiny, reluctant smile, Ariel adjusted and laid her cheek against him, closing her eyes and momentarily enjoying his hard strength.
Obviously trying to be antagonistic, his hands skimmed down her body underneath the fur covering, resting unexpectedly low around her waist. His thumbs notched under her hip bones while his huge palm and fingers slid around her body to clutch her backside. His almost silent rumble of approval drowned out her indignant gasp as his hands gave her a brief appreciative squeeze. It was extremely improper. Clearly enjoying her outraged expression, Bran let out a very male chuckle as he reluctantly moved his hands back up her body.
Catching her breath, Ariel tried to pull back aga
in but he stubbornly ignored her efforts, wrapping his arms around her middle and locking her back in place against him. Then he calmly buried his lips in the soft wealth of her hair, inhaling deeply--an affectionate gesture that had been all too common during their relationship.
Ariel could hear the resigned tone in his voice when he grouched, “Are you having withdrawals from Kaid?”
“Why?” she whispered, again trying to wiggle free but his arms remained locked around her, stubbornly holding her in place. Once again Ariel calmly laid the side of her face back against his hard chest, savoring this time when he was showing her affection. It wouldn’t last very long.
“Because you’re starting to hug me like you normally hug all over him.”
Ariel arched one blonde brow in silent bemusement. Bran’s words weren’t exactly accurate since she’d already made several attempts to break free and he hadn’t wanted to let her go. “The difference is that Kaid actually likes when I’m affectionate towards him. You know how temperamental he gets if I don’t immediately greet him every time I return from doing anything else.”
Brandos chuckled. “He acts casual, as if it doesn’t matter if you come over to him first or not but whenever someone distracts you on your way to him he gets edgy.” Brandos let out another low laugh. “If you listen, you can actually hear warriors groaning under their breath in protest when some imbecile stops you for conversation.” Letting out a sigh, he admitted, “I don’t know what he’ll do when you finally marry. It’s very clear to anyone with eyes that he doesn’t like sharing your attention.”
Ariel gasped, her arms finally circling his waist and excitedly squeezing as she demanded in a hopeful whisper, “Has he told you who he’s to marry?”
His breath puffed against her hair and she actually felt regret coming off of him, as if he hated disappointing her. “No,” he informed her grimly “he won’t break his vow of silence to Lord MacDonnel.”
Ariel deflated, utterly disappointment. “Well, you would think that he’d already be extremely overprotective of his future bride but I haven’t seen Kaid acting partial to any of the other lasses. Have you?”
“Nay, only Kristin.”
“He says it’s not Kristin, but what do you think?”
At that Bran gave a snort. “Kristin flirted with me right in front of Kaid a few days ago, going out of her way to try and make him jealous.”
Ariel stared at him open-mouthed. “What?” she whispered clearly horrified. Kaid was extremely possessive of anything that he considered to be his. Ariel had never even considered flirting with Bran--or anyone else, for that matter—in front of Kaid. She had known from a very young age that he did not like to share her attention. “Did it work?”
“Not even a little bit. But you sort of thwarted her efforts when you walked thru the gate, coming up from the village. Kaid was too busy watching the two warriors by the guard post who had called out a question to you. He stomped off to meet you halfway and paid her no mind.”
“Just one more reason for her to hate me,” Ariel sighed under her breath.
“No one cares what she thinks,” Bran scoffed with a look of disgust. “I was just glad when you came back from the village on time for once.”
Ariel snorted. “Why? You like me even less than she does!”
“When you’re at the village overlong Kaid’s mood starts going downhill and you know it. Everyone has to tiptoe around his explosive temper.”
“He’s not that bad,” she defended, just to be argumentative. Ariel knew how awful Kaid became when she was away.
“Remember the tone of voice he used when he caught us kissing in the stables?”
Ariel tilted her face up to look at him, her eyes wide as she warily nodded.
“He’s like that.”
She immediately shook her head in disbelief. “Kaid couldn’t be that bad. He was just really angry with us that day.”
“Ariel, you wouldn’t know. Why do you think his tone in the stables didn’t faze me at all? He gets extremely aggressive when you’re not around to settle him down. But then he sees you and--even if he’s furious with you for being away from him too long--his expression brightens and relaxes. Though he tries to mask it, Kaid’s eyes tell everyone around him how much he adores you and how relieved he is that you’re back safely.”
“He better adore me!” she grumbled. “I’m his favorite!”
“But it’s as if all his happiness is connected to you being within his view. It was that way even when we were younger. Not even the older warriors wanted to be pitted against Kaid in a sword match if they knew you had wandered off to the village and he was anxious for training to be over so he could go and find you. Kaid quickly demolished anyone under those circumstances, even fighting dirty or injuring an opponent because then he’d have an excuse to locate you, so you could heal them.”
“Well, it shouldn’t be that way but once he gets married it will obviously change,” she rationalized.
“I hope so.” Pausing he gazed down into her upturned face, a wicked gleam entering his knowing green eyes right before he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “And a word of warning, Ariel: When you’re hugging other men and Kaid is not around, keep in mind that they’re not related to you like he is. Their thoughts might not be so…pure.” Bran’s straight white teeth gently nipped her ear.
Ariel caught her breath and pulled away from him, but not before his actions sent tiny, involuntary shivers racing up her spine.
He gave a husky, knowing chuckle.
Trying not to sound as breathless as she felt, Ariel scoffed, “Thanks for the warning—Father--but I’m pretty sure you’re the last person who would be having impure thoughts about me.”
If Ariel hadn’t known how much he hated her, and how much he liked to play games with her heart, she would have thought his deep voice was genuinely affectionate as he leaned forward again to tell her, “Just because you don’t like a female, doesn’t necessarily mean that you stop thinking about her in ways that you probably shouldn’t.”
Seeing the danger glittering in his green gaze, Ariel could feel heat stealing up her neck into her cheeks, but she continued to return his look. “Like naked thoughts?” she daringly teased, waggling her brows to break the intensity of their shared moment.
The flash of his devastating smile combined with the aggressive, smoldering look in his eyes, sent a shiver of sweet anticipation through Ariel’s body.
“Are there any other kind?” was his warm response.
She let out a soft laugh. “Perfect! So we’re both contemplating the same thing…about Robert,” Ariel wickedly teased, winking at him as she backed away, removing her body from the proximity of temptation. Unfortunately, she was still wildly attracted to this handsome tyrant.
As she turned to head back to their bedding she felt Bran gently tug her hair in reproof, as he’d done so often in the past when they were better friends.