White Dusk Read Online Free Page A

while there were less than a dozen warriors, young or old, in Small Bird’s tribe, Swift Foot knew it didn’t take much resentment or dissension to weaken or split a group. Regardless of how anyone felt, he was chief. And he’d earned the role by deed, sacrifice and hard work.
    Expecting Small Bird to appear uneasy at being caught discussing the wisdom of their coming marriage, Swift Foot was surprised when she boldly held his gaze. Her eyes were the color of fresh-churned earth, and wide, large and innocent as those of a newborn fawn. They gave him no apology. Which was irritating. Folding his arms across his chest, he stared down at her.
    Since her tribe’s arrival more than a week ago, he’d endured the doubt of her people in silence. The two tribes were to join as one—as decreed by their two councils. But not all embraced the idea. His youth alone caused many to question his capability. And the lifelong war between him and his enemy made many doubt the wisdom of becoming embroiled.
    Small Bird broke the tense silence between them. “It is no secret that your enemy hunts you. Many have died in the past.” The proud tilt to the woman’s head and shoulders dared him to deny what she said.
    He tipped his head slightly, too, acknowledging the truth in her words. “It is a battle I seek to end, one my father began before my birth and one I will put to right before I die.” The selfishness of Runs with Wind, who’d chosen to marry the white captive he loved instead of the woman he’d promised to wed, had shaped Swift Foot’s future. Like the man who’d sired him, Swift Foot had been ordered to marry a woman chosen for him by the council. And like his father, Swift Foot yearned to marry a white woman with hair of the sun. But unlike his father, Swift Foot had not given in to the needs of his heart. He’d put his people first. At great cost to his own happiness.
    “My brother, along with many others, believes you are too young to lead so many.” Small Bird watched him carefully.
    Narrowing his eyes, Swift Foot answered, “If there is doubt regarding my ability to lead, then why did your elders agree to join tribes with me? Why did you agree to marry me?”
    Small Bird’s gaze slid from his. “Some choices are made despite knowing the risks.” She moved away from him.
    Shifting sideways in order to watch her, Swift Foot searched her words and tone for bitterness or resentment. He found none. Yet in his own mind and heart, those two emotions swelled, growing daily, crushing the man within.
    “You could have said no. My uncle would have accepted your refusal,” he pursued. Then he could have married the woman of his heart, not his uncle’s choice.
    No, a small voice inside him declared. Your uncle would have found another for you to wed.
    That, Swift Foot knew to be true. His future had been decided the moment his uncle decided to step down as chief. Before even. It came as no surprise to him, or to anyone else, that the council would choose him to succeed his uncle. Since the age of seven, he had been groomed for the position. But the honor came with a price: he had to take a wife of the council’s choosing.
    He hadn’t hesitated in agreeing. Nothing was more important than restoring his family’s honor and ensuring the safety of his people.
    Until Emily—the white beauty who had captured his heart.
    Over the summer, he’d learned the power of love, come to understand what had made his father risk everything, including his life, for a woman. Yet for Swift Foot, love had changed nothing. He had still returned here to marry.
    Small Bird’s soft voice drew him back from his dark thoughts. “It is an honor to marry a man held in such high esteem throughout our land.”
    “Honor, or lack of such, is why this marriage will take place.” Fearing she’d see the anger and resentment within him, Swift Foot kept his gaze focused on a nearby group of youths practicing their skills with wooden knives. What was