questioning look in his gaze. Bran coughed self-consciously. “She’s just a friend of Adaryn’s.” By all that was holy, what possessed him to say that? The two women acted like two wet cats in a bag when together.
“Aaric may be a clan member now,” Oisin’s mouth twisted; he was happy to get the sky jewel, but was less than pleased at the clan’s new addition, “but I won’t accept any other Oppressor into our clan, son.”
Bran bit his lower lip. He knew it wasn’t the time to argue. “I don’t think you have to worry about Grace turning on us. She wouldn’t betray Aaric.”
“I see.” Oisin didn’t look convinced, but let it drop, switching the subject. “There was another attack on our clan while you were away.”
Bran exhaled, clenching his fists. “How many were taken?”
“Five.”
That was more than usual. The Oppressors usually only claimed two or three on their raids, striking fast and hard, retreating before the clan could go on the offense. He glanced at his father. The clan chief looked outwardly composed, but his jaw was firmed, and there was a tightness around his eyes. Oisin was angry. He was better at keeping his temper than his son. Bran could only remember one time where he’d completely lost all control of his temper, and that had been when Bran’s mother was killed during a raid by the Oppressors.
“Do you intend to continue with the plan we discussed before I left?” Bran asked.
Oisin nodded. “Now that I hold the sky jewel, there’s nothing that can stop us. I will have my clan whole again.” He stared at Bran, his dark eyes expressionless.
Bran shifted uncomfortably. Aaric might be safe, now that he was considered to be a clan member, but Grace had no such protection. He turned and walked away. He needed to keep her close until all of this blew over. He hoped his father would come to accept her, in time.
19
Aaric
T he past few days passed in a haze for Aaric. Kenroc, Adaryn’s father, gave him permission to marry his daughter, if somewhat hesitantly. Wedding preparations began. Nomads took celebrations seriously and the women in the camp needed time to sew Adaryn’s gown. Aaric would have rather skipped all the fuss and parties, but he didn’t want to step on any toes, being such a new member of the clan. The rest of the nomads, after hearing Oisin publicly declare Aaric a clan member, acted friendly toward him, though a touch wary. He couldn’t blame them. It would take some time for them to be used to having an outsider in the clan.
Oisin had not been happy to see Bran bring Miss Grace along, but didn’t press the matter, at least not publicly. Miss Grace spent a lot of time telling stories to the nomad children and playing games, so it didn’t take long for her to win the children over.
“We did it,” Adaryn said, holding Aaric’s hand. “You’re a nomad, and we’re going to be married.” She smiled at him, her gaze soft. They had finally found a moment to themselves, and were sitting side by side on a riverbank, not far from the encampment. Her blue eyes seemed to glow in the twilight, and she smiled at Aaric. He felt his breath catch, gazing at her. She was so beautiful. Aaric leaned over to kiss her. As their lips met, his blood warmed and he lifted a hand to caress her face. It hurt him to think he had once enslaved her. To think he had caused her misery.
Adaryn pulled away, her face puzzled. “There’s one thing I don’t get,” she said, her pale brow creased. “I suppose I should ask my father.”
“What’s that?” Aaric kissed her forehead. He didn’t want to think about anything or anyone at the moment but Adaryn. But the nomad absentmindedly pushed him away, her lips pursed in thought. Aaric sighed in disappointment.
“Our clan has been in the area too long. Not very nomadic of them, is it?”
“They were probably waiting for us,” Aaric shrugged.
“Nomads don’t stay put for anything,” Adaryn insisted. “We
“Aaric may be a clan member now,” Oisin’s mouth twisted; he was happy to get the sky jewel, but was less than pleased at the clan’s new addition, “but I won’t accept any other Oppressor into our clan, son.”
Bran bit his lower lip. He knew it wasn’t the time to argue. “I don’t think you have to worry about Grace turning on us. She wouldn’t betray Aaric.”
“I see.” Oisin didn’t look convinced, but let it drop, switching the subject. “There was another attack on our clan while you were away.”
Bran exhaled, clenching his fists. “How many were taken?”
“Five.”
That was more than usual. The Oppressors usually only claimed two or three on their raids, striking fast and hard, retreating before the clan could go on the offense. He glanced at his father. The clan chief looked outwardly composed, but his jaw was firmed, and there was a tightness around his eyes. Oisin was angry. He was better at keeping his temper than his son. Bran could only remember one time where he’d completely lost all control of his temper, and that had been when Bran’s mother was killed during a raid by the Oppressors.
“Do you intend to continue with the plan we discussed before I left?” Bran asked.
Oisin nodded. “Now that I hold the sky jewel, there’s nothing that can stop us. I will have my clan whole again.” He stared at Bran, his dark eyes expressionless.
Bran shifted uncomfortably. Aaric might be safe, now that he was considered to be a clan member, but Grace had no such protection. He turned and walked away. He needed to keep her close until all of this blew over. He hoped his father would come to accept her, in time.
19
Aaric
T he past few days passed in a haze for Aaric. Kenroc, Adaryn’s father, gave him permission to marry his daughter, if somewhat hesitantly. Wedding preparations began. Nomads took celebrations seriously and the women in the camp needed time to sew Adaryn’s gown. Aaric would have rather skipped all the fuss and parties, but he didn’t want to step on any toes, being such a new member of the clan. The rest of the nomads, after hearing Oisin publicly declare Aaric a clan member, acted friendly toward him, though a touch wary. He couldn’t blame them. It would take some time for them to be used to having an outsider in the clan.
Oisin had not been happy to see Bran bring Miss Grace along, but didn’t press the matter, at least not publicly. Miss Grace spent a lot of time telling stories to the nomad children and playing games, so it didn’t take long for her to win the children over.
“We did it,” Adaryn said, holding Aaric’s hand. “You’re a nomad, and we’re going to be married.” She smiled at him, her gaze soft. They had finally found a moment to themselves, and were sitting side by side on a riverbank, not far from the encampment. Her blue eyes seemed to glow in the twilight, and she smiled at Aaric. He felt his breath catch, gazing at her. She was so beautiful. Aaric leaned over to kiss her. As their lips met, his blood warmed and he lifted a hand to caress her face. It hurt him to think he had once enslaved her. To think he had caused her misery.
Adaryn pulled away, her face puzzled. “There’s one thing I don’t get,” she said, her pale brow creased. “I suppose I should ask my father.”
“What’s that?” Aaric kissed her forehead. He didn’t want to think about anything or anyone at the moment but Adaryn. But the nomad absentmindedly pushed him away, her lips pursed in thought. Aaric sighed in disappointment.
“Our clan has been in the area too long. Not very nomadic of them, is it?”
“They were probably waiting for us,” Aaric shrugged.
“Nomads don’t stay put for anything,” Adaryn insisted. “We
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