Bakra Bride by N. J. Walters Page A

the bed. Garrik stepped forward and she had to smother back her gasp of surprise. He looked absolutely haggard and so much older than he had when she’d first met him. Had that only been a day ago?
    Zaren walked swiftly to the bed and lowered her legs until she was standing, but he kept his arm around her waist. She was grateful for the support, knowing her legs still wouldn’t hold her if he let her go. “Mother,” he spoke softly. “This is Jane.”
    Jane bit her lip and swallowed hard as the older woman summoned a weak smile for her. “I’m so glad to meet you, Jane.” The hand that gripped Jane’s was shaking and very cold. “I just wish it could be under better circumstances.”
    Jane could feel her heart breaking for the older woman. “I’m sorry about your son.” She didn’t quite know what else to say, but no one seemed to expect anything more.
    The other woman stood. Tall and blond, her smile was gentle and kind as she introduced herself. “Welcome to Castle Garen. I’m Christina.” Stepping forward, she gave Jane a quick hug before releasing her. “I only wish the situation was better.” Christina glanced at Zaren before turning back to Jane. “We have much to talk about.”
    Jane nodded but wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the woman’s cryptic words.
    “Garrik?” Zaren’s voice brought her back to the situation at hand. Although his arm was still around her, his entire focus was on his brother.
    Garrik shook his head. “His physical injuries are no longer life-threatening, but he has no will to live.” His eyes, so much like Zaren’s, bore deep into Jane before returning to his brother’s still form lying under the mound of covers. “Leave us.” His command surprised everyone around them and Jane could sense their unease. But Garrik was determined. “Leave. All except Jane.”
    Zaren’s eyes narrowed on his brother, but he said nothing. Instead, he moved her until she could support herself against the bed and then helped his mother out of her chair. As if Zaren’s approval was the sign they were all waiting for, everyone filed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them.
    Jane chewed on her bottom lip as she watched them go. What did they expect her to do? A low groan of pain from the bed startled her. Jarmon hadn’t moved since she got here. She hadn’t realized that he was either awake or conscious. “Is he in much pain?”
    “Yes.” Garrik’s stark reply and pale face moved her to action.
    “What can I do?”
    Garrik stared hard at her. “It is not a pretty sight.” Reaching down, he gently turned back the covers.
    Jane’s hands flew to her mouth to swallow her gasp. No, it wasn’t a pretty sight. One of his legs was thickly bandaged. She could see another thick padding around his left shoulder and as her gaze moved lower down his arm she realized he was missing two fingers on his left hand. She swallowed audibly as she continued to catalogue his injuries. A red puckered scar ran from the outside corner of his left eye to the corner of his mouth, marring his left cheek.
    “He has lost some mobility with his left arm as well as his fingers. He will probably have a limp when he walks.” Garrik stroked a lock of hair away from his brother’s face.
    Jane lowered herself until she was sitting on the mattress by Jarmon’s side. He looked so young. “How old is he?”
    Garrik’s smile was sad. “We have both seen twenty-two summers.”
    Oh God. Jane closed her eyes in pain. She was five years older than they were. They both looked older but were still very young.
    “He needs something to live for.” She could see the pleading in his eyes. She nodded and shifted closer as he turned back to Jarmon. “I have brought her, Jarmon. The tapestry has brought our family a treasure. And if you weren’t determined to be so lazy we could have given our older brothers a true contest for the fair and lovely Jane.”
    His impassioned speech startled her and she