The Warrior's Captive Bride

“The first?” It was a great coup. Skylark did not think she could be more impressed. “That is amazing.”

“It was not. I tore free only because I fell.”

Unease prickled.

“Your second fall.”

Beyond the circle of their fire and past the open ground now fading with twilight came the hoot of a great horned owl. She stilled as the chill of night seemed to seep into every pore.

Chapter Five (#ulink_b933ea60-1da9-538c-a766-a47454318c64)

Night Storm did not seem to be bothered by the nearness of the owl, while she was completely unnerved by the sound. What had her aunt always said? If you hear an owl, ghosts walk near.

“The sun dance was my second fall,” said Night Storm.

“Did you not hear that?” she asked.

“What? The owl?” He blew away a long, suffering breath. “I hear them...everywhere.” He fixed his gaze on her and she wondered again who was this man?

“Would you hear of the sun dance?”

She nodded numbly.

“It was my hope that the sun dance would cure me. I blew my whistle, and I prayed for the Great Spirit to rid me of my weakness. That my prayers would rise up like the sacred tobacco smoke to the Great Spirit. I leaned away from the attachments in my chest.”

She flinched at his words but he continued on.

“But the pain did not bring me closer to the spirit world. I smelled burning flesh and the ringing began. At first I thought it was the eagle whistles. But the sound was inside my head, and I fell before I could prove myself worthy of answered prayers.”

“You fell in front of everyone?”