Capturing His Heart by Daryl Devore

Author:Daryl Devore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daryl Devore
Published: 2021-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

Leah pulled back the curtains, allowing the brilliant morning sunshine to flood the room. Branwyn moaned and rolled over, covering her face with the blanket. “Dune Branwyn,” Leah whispered. “Your bath is ready.”

“Must I? I would rather lie about in bed all day.”

Leah giggled. “Yesterday was a difficult day and you must be tired and sore. What you did took courage. It impressed Gon-Dra Malacke. He refused everyone else all night. I think he likes you. He has not liked a woman in a long time.”

Branwyn dragged herself from the bed, walked to the bath and dropped her shift. “What happened to harden his heart so?”

Leah’s eyebrows raised in surprise at her dune’s acceptance of the morning ritual. She grabbed the soap, dipped it into the water, then rubbed it around Branwyn’s body. “A wife had been chosen, but she refused him. Instead, she left Black Dorn to be with his hated rival.” Leah poured warm-scented water over Branwyn’s back.

“How could anyone refuse such a man? He is strong and powerful and will be gon.” Branwyn let her thoughts wander to Malacke as her bath completed. She half-dressed, remembering to leave her breasts exposed, and walked to Duna Trea’s room.

She paused a step inside the training room. Malacke’s back was to her.

“Trea, I have been away too long. The mead of Black Dorn will be the death of me. My head aches. I fear it will burst.”

Trea motioned with her head for Branwyn to hide as she escorted Malacke to a mound of pillows. “Sit. I will tend to you.” After ringing a bell and telling the servant what to do, the duna returned to Malacke. She picked up his hand and peeled off the blood-soaked napkin protecting Branwyn’s bite mark. “A souvenir of last night’s conques... No, you bedded no one.” She examined the mark. “It is a bite from a tiny mouth. A female bite. One who was being instructed and—”

Malacke’s glare stopped her. “Sometimes you go too far, woman.”

Trea sat before him, placed her hands on his temples and rubbed him in a small circular pattern. “Close your eyes. Over time, we have developed a bond that will only be passed by the one between you and your bride. I have watched you watching her. I have seen what the effects of thinking about her do to you.”

“I am entranced, Trea. I can sense when she is near. Her scent is in this room.”

Branwyn nestled behind the tapestry.

“Yes, she is trained here.” The servant entered, knelt and offered the duna a large mug, then left. “Drink this.”

He swallowed the contents, leaned back, and sighed. “Her flesh was soft. Her sobs touched my heart. I could lose myself in her body.”

“I fear you must decide, is she worth fighting a war over?”

“Arrgh!” Malacke grabbed a handful of pillows and threw them at the wall. Shoving Trea aside, he strode from the room.

“Good morning, Branwyn. Are you rested?”

She entered and stood before the duna. “Yes. Did you pass a restful night?”

Trea nodded.

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