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further.
    She bowed her head and shook it. “No.”
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    Both brothers heaved a sigh of relief. Jarmon hadn’t realized he was holding himself so tensely until she spoke. “I’m glad,” he replied simply. “It will not happen this day.”
    She squirmed and he reluctantly released her, letting her slip from his arms. Putting some distance between them, she pulled the bodice of her dress back on, lacing it at the front. Once she was covered, she slowly stood. “Why won’t you let me go?” Jarmon could hear the confusion in her voice—see it in her eyes. She didn’t seem to comprehend why they would not do so and he didn’t know what else to say to make her understand. “You are alone on Bakra land. We cannot just leave you here.” Once again, he saw her fear the moment he said she was on Bakra land. She’d had the same reaction when Garrik had first told her. Why would that frighten her? What had she heard about their family to make her so afraid? Sighing, he slowly came to his feet. Beside him, Garrik did the same. They’d wasted enough time. They needed to gather their packs and find a good spot to set up camp for the night. The woman needed a warm fire and some food. They’d talk later.
    Holding out his hand, he beckoned her forward. “Come. We will make camp for the day and then we will talk.”
    She glanced furtively to the forest.
    “You won’t make it,” Jarmon assured her.
    She scowled at him. “I wasn’t planning on running. I wanted to get my belongings.
    I don’t want to leave my blankets or the tapestry.” Both Jarmon and Garrik froze. Garrik found his voice first. “Tapestry?” She nodded emphatically. “Tapestry.”
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Chapter Four
    Genita jumped as the second warrior stalked toward her. She realized he had a slight limp, but it didn’t slow him down at all. Instead, it made him appear all the more menacing.
    He was even larger than the first warrior, all strong bone and thick muscle. She could tell that at one point in their lives, they’d looked identical, but now they were different in appearance. This second man had a long whitish scar bisecting his cheek.
    The mark started at the tip of his left eye and ended at the corner of his mouth. His hair was different as well. It was long and blond, but there were streaks of white running throughout it. The white locks framed his hard face. His cheekbones were prominent and his nose had a bump in it. Obviously at some point in his life, he’d broken it.
    He reached out his left hand to her and she jerked backward, unable to take her eyes from his ruined hand. His last two fingers were missing. Gone. He swore and her eyes flew to his face once again. Her stomach churned and she began to shake.
    “I know I’m not pretty,” he growled.
    He has no idea, she thought. Genita slapped her hand over her mouth, swallowing back the hysterical laughter that threatened.
    She’d spent the past year listening to her brothers ranting and raving about the Bakra family. Her brother had boasted that he’d killed one of them in battle. But that boast hadn’t lasted. He’d been furious when he’d discovered the Bakra brother had lived. Her eldest brother’s fury and bitterness had grown the past year as word had reached them that despite the fact he was missing two fingers, the warrior was stronger and better than he’d been before. That, coupled with the fact that the eldest Bakra brother had slain two of her brothers when they’d ambushed him and his woman, had driven her eldest brother half insane. He spent hour upon hour replaying the battle to any who would listen, berating the gods for not allowing the Bakra bastard to die. Her brother did not take defeat well.
    She was Genita Craddock, and it was her eldest brother, Leon, who’d tried to kill him. Her brother was responsible for his injuries and his family’s woes. She was the sister of his greatest enemy. They would kill her if they discovered who she really was.
    “Tell us about the