Swordbrothers 2: Four Winds
Magic never lies.
Summerbreeze Warmwind is ostracized because of his blue hair. He never expects to find anyone to love him.
Sword Dancer is a wealthy weaponsmith who lacks for nothing, except a swordbrother to love him.
Trueflight Woodbender is a well known bow maker who isn't looking for love... until it finds him.
Zephyr Northernwind is the son of a camp whore, despised and living his life on the fringe of clan after clan. What man could ever love someone like him?
When the bond of swordbrothers unites these men to one another their lives change. But is it for the better?
The magic of a swordbrother's bond never lies.
"I'm going too fast for you, aren't I?" Sword questioned. His blue eyes were hot with lust.
They barely knew each other, yet the call of their magic, the pull of the bond, could not be ignored.
It could, however, be tempered with willpower which Sword seemed to possess as the smith took a deep breath, then gently pushed Breeze away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let the magic and the bond get the better of me."
Breeze let out a whimper of frustration and need and watched sadly as the wind and colors dispersed. He stared down at his hands, wondering if he'd imagined the magic due to his desire for Sword. It was very obvious the man didn't want him after all. "It's all right," he managed to say after a moment, "there's no reason for you to apologize."
Why would any warrior want me after all, sorry excuse for a man that I am?
Fingers stroked through his hair, smoothing it from his eyes, a spark of desire, a breath of wind followed Sword's touch in a second, feather light caress. "I want you as my swordbrother. I want it very much, but I also want to be sure it's what you want. It won't be said of me that I took advantage of anyone. So tell me, Breeze, do you really want this with me, or do you want to think it over?"
Sword's words, and the feel of the wind as well as his touch, made Breeze look up again, hope stirring in his chest. "I still think I must be dreaming," he said. "I'm no great catch as a swordbrother. I'm an adequate hunter, and a reasonable cook. I can skin and make good leather but that's nothing compared to your skills and talents. I'm not very good with people and I don't understand how you could possibly want me."
Sword's sensual mouth curved sharply downward. His dark brows pulled together, and the man frowned at him. The look lent Sword a seriousness, a very manly expression that only made the heat in Breeze's flesh, the ache in his groin worsen.
"The magic decides, Summerbreeze. We aren't a pair of men taking one another as lovers. This is the real thing, true love forged by magic and the power of our very souls." Sword brushed his thumb across Breeze's cheek, the power of the bond rising at the touch of skin on skin. A puff of wind moved through Breeze's hair, a tingle flowed through the contact into him.
All of the hurt and pain Breeze felt, after years of slights over his bizarre appearance and gentle nature, was expressed in his cry of, "Then why did you push me away?"
Strong arms wrapped around him, pulled him close, held him tight. "Not to hurt you. By the Ancestors, I never wanted to hurt you! Not you, Breeze." Warm lips touched his, the kiss gentle, soothing. A stronger wind tugged at their clothes, flickers of blue, ribbons of magical energy rose from Sword's body, from his body too.
Sword ended the kiss, gazed into the beautiful gold of his soon to be swordbrother's eyes. "You're precious to me, Breeze. Don't you realize that? I've searched for my swordbrother, my true love for ten years and never found him. Not until I found you." he explained, and showered gentle kisses on Breeze's face, his throat.
He wanted the young man, had wanted him since he'd first set eyes on the fall of his odd blue hair, the sharp curve of his cheek, the sensual form of his lips.
By the same token, he didn't want to force the issue. He didn't want to rush the younger man into his bed. He could tell Summerbreeze was uneasy, nervous as a virgin girl on her marriage night. He didn't understand it, but suspected that, like so many among the clans who were different in appearance, Breeze had been all but shunned by his own clan. He'd seen things like it before. Recalled how he'd seen other young men treated over some small difference. And blue hair like Breeze's was hardly a small difference.
Sword stopped kissing Breeze, the younger man breathless, cheeks flushed with what Sword hoped might be passion. It could just as easily be embarrassment. The two of them were in the middle of camp surrounded by people, some of whom were watching surreptitiously, while pretending not to pay them the slightest attention.
Not a few of them were young unmarried women. Sword sighed. No wonder he's nervous. All these people watching us, if I had any sense I'd be embarrassed too. Time for a change of scenery. "Why don't we take the food inside? You can cook our meal and we can talk about anything you like. How does that sound?"
He received a breathtaking and obviously grateful smile in thanks. Breeze gathered up his pot of tubers and the rack of meat and carried them into his tent. He placed them over the fire pit and got the firestones going underneath them before looking up and saying, "Thank you for being so understanding."
"Not a problem," Sword replied, giving the younger man a sheepish grin. "I should have done more thinking with my upper head, rather than letting the lower one get the better of me." He sat down beside Breeze, and favored him with a big smile. "Feeling the pull of the bond, and seeing how beautiful you are was too much for me, I'm afraid."
He touched the soft blue hair, twisting a lock around his finger, letting it slide up the digit, marveling at the color. "You're one of a kind, Summerbreeze. And I'd be pleased to have you as my swordbrother. That is if you'll have me. I really am sorry for making an ass of myself, but at my age I had given up on the idea I'd find my swordbrother."