9. Harper
9
HARPER
W armth receded and cold rushed in as the spell of the moment between them shattered. Harper twisted to face Brand, her cheeks burning, words tangling in her throat, and frustration rearing. Why did she feel shame at being caught? She was a grown woman. She could do what she liked. Her attention snapped back to Aedon. The elf stepped back, his eyes flashing with uncharacteristic anger as he looked at the giant Aerian striding down the bank toward them.
“Camp. Now,” Brand growled at Aedon.
Aedon bristled. “I?—”
“ Now .” His tone brooked no argument.
Still catching her breath—both from the dancing and the almost-kiss—Harper stood frozen, glancing between them. To her surprise, Aedon’s mouth set in a thin, grim line. He did not look at her as he strode away, fists balled. Harper’s frustration evaporated as cold flooded into her. What had just happened? She had never seen Brand order Aedon thusly or seen that dynamic between the two of them. She looked at Brand, confused and a little scared by the huge warrior looming above her, a prickle of fear lurking in her belly. What had brought on his sudden anger?
Brand’s gaze softened as he saw her wide eyes. “Are you all right, Harper?”
She nodded mutely, resisting the urge to bring a trembling hand up to her lips. Brand moved closer, and Harper angled herself defensively, lowering her weight so she could run if needed. She did not fear Brand as the hunter and warrior she knew he could be, but Harper knew something was afoot, and it set alight her instinctive desire to flee.
Brand stopped and held up his dark palms. “I don’t mean you any harm. I’m sorry to intrude, but it’s for your own good.” He looked away and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck.
Harper frowned. Was he… embarrassed ?
“You ought not to have such dealings with Aedon,” he said awkwardly, still not meeting her eyes.
Harper felt both intrigued and indignant. “It’s not your business,” she uttered rebelliously, though embarrassment sent a blush to her cheeks.
“Yes, it is. You both travel with us. That makes it our business. But more than that, you are our companions. We care for you. It’s best for both of you if you do not become involved.”
“Why?”
Brand paused and chewed on his lip. He still would not meet her gaze. “When Aedon lost Valyrea, something within him broke. It has never healed, and he has never been able to truly love anyone or anything. Of course, he has dallied with maids from here to the blue seas?—”
Harper spiked with a sudden dark rush of emotion that stung as it blitzed through her.
“—and never has he left anything but broken hearts in his wake. I will not allow that for you, and I will not see him hurt himself once more.”
Harper did not know what to think of that. It was not what she had expected.
“Will you heed my advice?”
She looked at him as he met her gaze at last. “I’m not a child,” she eventually said, and raised her chin to him. “I appreciate your care, but I make my own choices, whatever they be.”
She could not forget the way Aedon’s warm, glowing skin surrounded his bright green eyes, or the way his hot breath felt against her lips, or the way the promise of his kiss had made her stomach flutter. She would not lie to Brand, or herself, and promise to walk away.
Brand’s shoulders slumped with a mixture of disappointment and resignation, but he nodded. “Come, Harper. Back to camp. Our meal is ready.”
It did not have to be anything serious, she thought. She had never needed a man before, and nothing had changed. She would be damned if she denied herself a little fun.
Aedon kneeled at the fire, glowering as much as the logs he stoked. Ragnar and Erika sat in tactful silence.
“Oh good. We’re ready for you,” Ragnar said with a rush.
“Sorry for the delay,” Brand mumbled. He sat next to Erika, who offered him a choice morsel skewered on a sharp stick from the fire. He took it gently, his fingers brushing hers, and murmured his thanks.
Erika stiffly picked up her own stick and ate, not looking at anyone. Refusing to, Harper realised. She glanced between Brand and Erika. How had she never noticed it before? The way they gave to each other in silent appreciation. The strong bond they had when sparring. The close camaraderie—closer than they had with any of the others—a silent affinity. The way they disappeared into the woods alone sometimes—but returned together. Or vice versa. Harper wondered if there were anything more to it. The corner of her mouth quirked up in a small smile.
When they rose simultaneously after finishing their food to go and train down near the stream, Harper was almost certain of it. She could have laughed. Brand had no call to question her or Aedon’s actions if he performed the same dance with Erika.
“Yes. The irony isn’t lost on me, either,” said Aedon darkly as he caught her watching them leave.
Ragnar looked between the two of them in confusion.
“Brand and Erika… The not-so-secret romance,” Aedon clarified for him.
“Ah, yes. And the irony?”
“Oh, nothing,” Aedon said breezily—as he did, Harper had realised, when purposefully avoiding answering. “Harper has finally twigged.”
Ragnar pursed his lips. “They’re a funny pair. Never known anyone like them.”
“ Funny isn’t the word.”
“What do you mean?” Harper asked.
“Oh, just the two of them. You’ve seen how they are, together and apart,” Aedon said, gesturing a hand after them. “Not exactly normal . Both running from their pasts and what haunts them, always dancing around each other. It makes me want to bash their heads together and tell them to get on with it and be happy already.”
Ragnar snorted with laughter.
“Brand told me a little about himself… and Nyla.”
Ragnar’s mirth faded. “Yes,” he said sombrely. “To this day, he blames himself, and her death haunts him. I don’t know that he’ll ever let go of her—and put her to rest enough to move on.”
“But… It wasn’t his fault that she died, was it?”
“Honestly, we cannot be sure. I think only he knows the truth of what happened. But he has always taken it upon himself.”
“And Erika?” Harper dared to ask. She still knew almost nothing of the reclusive nomad woman.
“If she has not told you, it is not ours to tell,” said Ragnar, glancing at Aedon, who nodded. “Suffice it to say, she has endured far worse than us all.”
He left it at that. Harper hung onto the cryptic clue, wondering how Erika’s past could be worse than Ragnar’s exile from his people, the death of Aedon’s soulmate dragon, and the murder of Brand’s heart.
Still so many questions . Every time she made headway, finally feeling like she began to understand, she found herself tossed into the gale like a leaf again. Harper could not help but rekindle that swell of something warm in her chest at the thought of leaves dancing in the wind and the feeling of being within Aedon’s arms. She wondered if either of them would heed Brand’s tense warning. Harper glanced at Aedon, but his gaze was on the fire once more, brooding.