Read Online Broken Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 3) by Kara Jaynes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kara Jaynes
Ads: Link
as hard as stone. He didn’t look at his father again.
22
Bran
B ran rode Star through the woods at a near gallop, his eyes intent on the trail. He wasn’t sure how much time Grace had left, if any. If anything happened to her . . .
He heard hooves behind him and, looking over his shoulder, realized with surprise that Aaric had come with him. He thought he would’ve stayed with Adaryn. It was a strong force of magic she’d been hit with, but being a magic user herself, she would fare far better in her recovery than Aaric would have.
The woods gave way to the plains. The city of Ruis could be seen in the distance, a dirty smudge on the horizon. Bran dug his heels into Star’s side with a shout, and the stallion shot forward, Aaric and his steed close behind.
The smudge eventually became a dark, walled city. Still no sign of Grace. Bran anxiously peered ahead, scanning the wide expanse before him. There! He couldn’t tell who was ahead of him, but there was something, close to the city walls.
Star’s hooves tore up grass and dirt as he thundered across the plain. Bran shaded his eyes as he drew closer to the figures outside of Ruis’ gate.
Some men were gathered, seated on horses. One of the men was red headed. Donell. Bran’s gaze was focused on one slim figure. A woman, bound and blindfolded, seated on a pale white mare. Shouting words toward the city that Bran couldn’t distinguish in the rising wind, Donell lifted up a shimmering blue blade.
“Grace!” The name ripped out of Bran’s throat in a raw scream. The blindfolded woman lifted her head, turning to the sound of his voice. Her blonde curls tossed in the wind. Donell looked over to see Bran, then turned back toward Grace, lifting his sword again. Bran was going to be too late. He couldn’t use his magic on the tribesmen from this distance without potentially harming Grace, but if he didn’t, she would die.
Bran heard a twang as something zipped past his ear, plunging into Donell’s shoulder. The young man cried out and dropped his sword, clutching his wound. His sword shivered away into nothing when he lost contact with it. Bran spared a glance over his shoulder and saw Aaric, standing in his stirrups, holding his arc-bow. It was incredibly difficult to shoot accurately while riding a horse; luck was with them. By the set of the Oppressor’s jaw, however, Bran suspected Aaric may have tried to kill Donell and missed.
They raced up to where the other nomads had gathered in front of Donell and Grace. They all had summoned weapons of various sorts.
“Stand down,” Bran roared. “Release the woman—now!”
The red headed youth shook his head, glaring balefully at Aaric. “Can’t do that, Bran. The chief gave us our orders. Oisin said you were partial to the lady, and to not let you interfere.”
“Oisin is dead,” Bran snarled. Snatching the sky jewel from his pocket, he showed it to the stunned nomads. “I’m the chief now.”
Donell’s eyes widened with shock. “What happened?”
“That doesn’t matter right now.” Bran dismounted and strode over to Grace, who sat astride her mare, stiff-backed and silent.
Bran carefully lifted her down and untied her blindfold. It was wet with tears, but that didn’t stop Grace from glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. “You said I’d be a welcome guest.” Her voice was cold, but her lips trembled and more tears built on her lashes. “I trusted you.”
“Grace, I’m sorry.” Bran loosened the ropes around her wrists and tried to hug her. She put her hands on his chest, pushing him away. “Grace, believe me, I had no idea my father would have planned something so—”
“I want to go home.” Her voice quivered. “If you will assist me . . .” She gestured toward her horse.
Sighing with exasperation, Bran helped her on her horse. She turned her mare toward the city, where the gates were open. He hardly noticed the men who were running out to them.
“We’ll find a way
22
Bran
B ran rode Star through the woods at a near gallop, his eyes intent on the trail. He wasn’t sure how much time Grace had left, if any. If anything happened to her . . .
He heard hooves behind him and, looking over his shoulder, realized with surprise that Aaric had come with him. He thought he would’ve stayed with Adaryn. It was a strong force of magic she’d been hit with, but being a magic user herself, she would fare far better in her recovery than Aaric would have.
The woods gave way to the plains. The city of Ruis could be seen in the distance, a dirty smudge on the horizon. Bran dug his heels into Star’s side with a shout, and the stallion shot forward, Aaric and his steed close behind.
The smudge eventually became a dark, walled city. Still no sign of Grace. Bran anxiously peered ahead, scanning the wide expanse before him. There! He couldn’t tell who was ahead of him, but there was something, close to the city walls.
Star’s hooves tore up grass and dirt as he thundered across the plain. Bran shaded his eyes as he drew closer to the figures outside of Ruis’ gate.
Some men were gathered, seated on horses. One of the men was red headed. Donell. Bran’s gaze was focused on one slim figure. A woman, bound and blindfolded, seated on a pale white mare. Shouting words toward the city that Bran couldn’t distinguish in the rising wind, Donell lifted up a shimmering blue blade.
“Grace!” The name ripped out of Bran’s throat in a raw scream. The blindfolded woman lifted her head, turning to the sound of his voice. Her blonde curls tossed in the wind. Donell looked over to see Bran, then turned back toward Grace, lifting his sword again. Bran was going to be too late. He couldn’t use his magic on the tribesmen from this distance without potentially harming Grace, but if he didn’t, she would die.
Bran heard a twang as something zipped past his ear, plunging into Donell’s shoulder. The young man cried out and dropped his sword, clutching his wound. His sword shivered away into nothing when he lost contact with it. Bran spared a glance over his shoulder and saw Aaric, standing in his stirrups, holding his arc-bow. It was incredibly difficult to shoot accurately while riding a horse; luck was with them. By the set of the Oppressor’s jaw, however, Bran suspected Aaric may have tried to kill Donell and missed.
They raced up to where the other nomads had gathered in front of Donell and Grace. They all had summoned weapons of various sorts.
“Stand down,” Bran roared. “Release the woman—now!”
The red headed youth shook his head, glaring balefully at Aaric. “Can’t do that, Bran. The chief gave us our orders. Oisin said you were partial to the lady, and to not let you interfere.”
“Oisin is dead,” Bran snarled. Snatching the sky jewel from his pocket, he showed it to the stunned nomads. “I’m the chief now.”
Donell’s eyes widened with shock. “What happened?”
“That doesn’t matter right now.” Bran dismounted and strode over to Grace, who sat astride her mare, stiff-backed and silent.
Bran carefully lifted her down and untied her blindfold. It was wet with tears, but that didn’t stop Grace from glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. “You said I’d be a welcome guest.” Her voice was cold, but her lips trembled and more tears built on her lashes. “I trusted you.”
“Grace, I’m sorry.” Bran loosened the ropes around her wrists and tried to hug her. She put her hands on his chest, pushing him away. “Grace, believe me, I had no idea my father would have planned something so—”
“I want to go home.” Her voice quivered. “If you will assist me . . .” She gestured toward her horse.
Sighing with exasperation, Bran helped her on her horse. She turned her mare toward the city, where the gates were open. He hardly noticed the men who were running out to them.
“We’ll find a way
Similar Books
