Broken Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 3) by Kara Jaynes Read Free Book Online Page B

can’t let Adaryn see me like this,” she groaned. “I’ll never hear the end of it.” She unsuccessfully tried to wipe some of the mud off her dress.
    “Why does her opinion matter?” Bran sat down on the bank next to her, watching her face.
    “Because it does,” she snapped. She sighed, turning her glare toward the stream. “You must think I look awful.”
    Bran grinned. “I think you look downright smashing.”
    Grace snorted. “That’s hardly a compliment for a lady.” She paused a moment, regarding him. “But I thank you.”
    Bran looked up at the sky. The sun was setting. In another hour it would be dark. “It’s going to get cold,” he said. “You need to get back to camp to change before you freeze.”
    Grace looked at him frostily. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time. I can’t go anywhere until it’s too dark for Adaryn to see me. She’s my rival,” she explained.
    “Ah.” Bran nodded solemnly, an idea coming to him. “Perhaps it would help if you had a fire, here by the bank, to help you dry.”
    “That would be marvelous.” Grace wrapped her arms about herself, shivering.
    “Wait here.” Bran jumped up and ran around, picking up twigs and small branches. He brought the small bundle back. Calling the magic, he started a small fire by the stream.
    “There.” He sat next to her again. “That should help keep the cold away until dark.”
    Grace’s gaze shone in the firelight, and she drew closer to the crackling flames. “What’s it like?” she asked softly. “The magic?”
    Bran frowned at the flickering flames, considering her question. “I don’t know that I ever stopped to think about it before,” he said. “It’s something we’re born with. It’s part of who we are. Having enchantment is as natural as breathing. It’s . . . life.”
    Grace looked puzzled, so he tried to elaborate. “Losing the enchantment would be like losing an arm, or more. It just comes to us.”
    “Do all nomads wield magic?” Grace asked.
    He nodded. “As far as I know. We start learning how to use it around four or five years, though I think we can all sense it before then.”
    Grace was quiet for a moment. “I wish I knew what it felt like,” she said quietly. “Just for a moment.”
    Bran blinked, surprised. He held up a hand, palm facing up, and closed his eyes, forming a picture of his stallion, Star, in his head. He opened his eyes at Grace’s delighted laugh. There, on his palm, made of light, was a miniature form of Star, galloping in place. With his free hand, he took Grace’s and carefully slipped the horse onto hers. Her eyes sparkled with delight and a small laugh escaped her lips. “It feels . . . it feels alive.”
    “It is,” Bran replied. “Flick your wrist.”
    Grace obeyed, and the stallion galloped through the air before it shivered and disappeared. Grace sighed regretfully. “That was wonderful, Bran, thank you for showing me.” She looked up at him and Bran shifted to sit a little closer.
    “You’re welcome,” he whispered. Night was coming on fast; he should try and get her back to camp. Only, he didn’t want to. Adaryn was right. Oppressors could be positively irresistible. He lowered his face until their noses touched. His lips brushed hers, sending a wave of heat through his body.
    “Ah, Bran, there you are.” Aaric’s voice sounded behind them. “Adaryn wants to know where the water for dinner is, and I am having a devil of a time trying to get the other tent up. Oh. Am I interrupting something?”
    Bran wanted to strangle the idiot, but sighed and looked over his shoulder. “We were on our way.”
    Grace looked flustered, and she patted her curls self-consciously, standing. Bran hurried to stand as well, and kicked out the flames. When Grace refilled the bucket with water from the stream, he took it from her. “Allow me.”
    Grace arched a slim eyebrow. “Aren’t you the gentleman?” She was herself again. She squinted up at the sky.