Woven Dreams
Forever beaten and abused by her cruel brothers, Genita Craddock has only managed to endure it by escaping into the imaginary world of the tapestry she created, one that features her brothers’ sworn enemies, the enigmatic Bakra brothers. But when she learns of her brothers’ plans to marry her off to a ruthless and brutal clan, she knows she must flee. Stealing away into the night, she unknowingly stumbles onto Bakra land—and into a world of unimagined pleasure.
Scarred and maimed from a battle with the Craddock brothers, Jarmon Bakra knows chances are slim that he and his twin brother, Garrik, will find a bride. So the two are stunned when they discover a beautiful young woman wandering on their land—especially one so open to their amorous advances. As they indulge her in every imaginable form of sensual bliss, hoping to secure her as their own, they also sense that the woman is harboring a dark secret that could somehow harm them and their family.
As their erotic adventures capture Genita’s heart as well as her body, she’s torn about revealing her true identity, fearful that the brothers will reject her. And when they vow to avenge the wounds inflicted on her, she knows they’ll face a battle more fearsome than any they’ve fought before. But with it would come the opportunity for Jarmon to even the score for his own injuries—and the chance for Genita to finally have the glorious life of love and passion she’s always desired . . .
Title Page

Copyright
Woven Dreams
N. J. Walters
Beyond the Page Books
are published by
Beyond the Page Publishing
www.beyondthepagepub.com
Copyright © 2006 by N. J. Walters.
Cover design and illustration by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs.
ISBN: 978-1-946069-91-7
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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Dedication
This one is for all the wonderful readers who have embraced this series and continued to ask for more.
Contents
Cover
Woven Dreams
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Books by N. J. Walters
About the Author
Chapter One
Genita traced her finger lovingly over the rich, vibrant threads of the tapestry. She could almost feel the breeze that brushed the leaves of the tress and caused the flowers to sway, emitting their lush scent into the air. There were so many different species of trees and flowers, but she knew them all, was familiar with their properties. She knew which ones were good for healing and which ones were safe for consumption. She knew from experience which flowers, stems, berries and bark she needed to harvest to create dyes for cloth and threads.
The sun glinted off the gray stones of the castle that dominated the center of the two-by-three-foot cloth. Huge doors of oak and metal guarded the entrance to the domain. It was a fortress, yet it was a family home. Tall, slender windows were set high in the building, some of them full of wondrous pictures crafted from colored glass. How beautiful it must be to sit in one of those rooms when the sun shone through, spreading the myriad colors across the floors and walls. There was something about the building that called to her, urging her to find it. Here, it promised, she would find peace. Here, she would be safe.
She glanced around her own small, barren room. It was barely large enough for the tiny bed that was pushed against one wall. She had driven hooks into the walls to hold her few meager pieces of clothing. Her one miniscule window was set high into the wall, admitting only a few thin rays of sunshine late in the day. There were no panes of colored glass to add life to her room, only dark wooden shutters, and she had to stand on a low stool in order to reach them every evening to close out the damp night air. The room was dismal at best. Cold and miserable at worst.
Her soul craved the heat and light of the sun, but rarely was she able to be outside, taking pleasure in it. Usually, she was hard at work. But there were moments, like this one, when she was able to escape the drudgery of her life and do what she wanted to do.
Returning her attention to the tapestry, she smiled as she stroked the fabric. It was almost alive beneath her hands. Her smile faded as her fingers touched the first of the two warriors standing guard in front of the castle. Standing tall, their legs were spread apart and their arms were folded across their chests. Strong and hard, the muscles of their torsos and arms seemed to ripple when she moved the fabric. Brown leather pants molded their rock-hard thighs and their leather vests hung open, displaying their wide chests. Bronze armbands encircled their wrists and forearms and swords hung from belts that hugged their trim waists.
They were both blond, their long straight hair hanging to their waists. Their eyes were a pale blue, the color of a summer sky. They were brothers, but they appeared different. Where one had the face of a god, with his straight nose, high forehead and cheekbones, and full lips, the other was scarred. The scar ran across his left cheek, giving him an almost sinister appearance. She shivered as she touched it. Looking harder, she realized his hair was slightly different from that of the other warrior. Yes, it was blond, but there were touches of white as well.
Genita frowned. How had that happened?
She wanted to examine it further, but now was not the time. Later tonight, when everyone was abed, she’d light her single candle and study the pattern of the stitches in the cloth.
A shiver ran down her spine as the eyes of the warriors seemed to watch her, seeing into her thoughts, indeed, into her very soul. She brought her fingers to her lips, tracing the tips over them. What would it be like to feel each of their mouths against hers? Would they be rough or gentle? Genita didn’t know. What experiences she’d had with men hadn’t been good.
But this was her fantasy and she could have anything she wanted. They would be gentle, she decided, but firm. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath.
Male hands sank into her hair, pulled her closer, holding her captive for his kiss. Her lips parted and she moaned as his tongue sank into her mouth, stroking hers firmly, inviting her to play.
Another set of male hands gripped her hips from behind. She could feel the warmth of his flesh as he crowded behind her, bringing her back tight against his
chest. Something hard dug into her bottom and she gasped when she realized that he was aroused.
His hands slid upward, stroking over her belly, hovering just below her breasts. They felt heavy, her nipples tightening and pressing against the bodice of her dress. She wanted his hands on her breasts, touching them, stroking them. Liquid heat gathered low in her belly, making her squirm. Both men crowded closer until both their cocks were pressed tight against her, one against her behind, the other against her stomach.
Her sex throbbed in a deep, clenching rhythm. For the first time in her life she wanted a man. No, men. She wanted both of them. She wanted to feel their hands caressing every inch of her skin and then she wanted to do the same for them. Placing her hands against the chest of the warrior in front of her, she stroked the heavy muscle that rippled beneath her fingers.
The warrior behind her slid his hands higher, cupping her breasts in his palms. Tipping her head back, she gasped for breath. Her nipples tightened further as he rotated his hands and she began to undulate her hips, unable to stop their primal rhythm. The warrior in front of her growled as he gripped her hips in his hands, grinding his erection against her stomach.
Heat ran through her veins, setting her entire body on fire. She was completely surrounded by their strength and their need. Yet they gave, even as they took. Her breasts ached, so she pushed them harder into the warrior’s hands. He laughed as he leaned his head down and stroked his tongue across the nape of her neck. She shivered, her body trembling with desire. He captured the lobe of her ear between his teeth, nipping the sensitive flesh even as his thumb and forefingers gently pinched her swollen nipples through her dress.
Her body was no longer under her control. Rather than being frightened, she reveled in it. The warrior in front of her gripped one of her thighs, lifting it to wrap around his hip. The motion tilted her hips forward, bringing her sex closer to his rock-hard erection.
“Yes,” she sighed as he ground his pelvis against hers. Hot cream slid from her core, damping her thighs. An ache built inside her.
Gripping the warrior in front of her, she sobbed as she tried to bring him even closer. Her body cried out for his. For both men. Close. She was so close. Her body was going to explode. Every nerve ending in her body was tingling. Breathing was almost impossible. Almost there. Almost . . .
“Genita!” The roar shook the floor beneath her very feet, vibrating off the walls around her.
The warriors disappeared, nothing but a figment of her imagination. Gasping for air, she blinked hard, trying to bring herself back to reality. She was standing next to her bed, staring blindly down at the tapestry. Her legs trembled and a thin sheen of sweat dampened her body. Her hand was shaking as she swiped it over her clammy forehead. Her breasts ached and the deep pulsing between her damp thighs reminded her of just how empty her life was.
“Genita!” Closer. Oh, gods, he was almost here. She could hear his boots pounding up the stairs.
Grabbing the tapestry, she rolled it quickly into a bundle and stuffed it beneath her thin mattress. Rubbing her moist hands over her coarse woven dress, she hurried toward the door. From the tone of his voice, she could tell her brother was in one of his moods. That didn’t bode well for her or anybody else who got within striking distance. These black moods had come more and more frequently the past year, ever since the deaths of two of their brothers. All remnants of arousal were quickly replaced by a growing fear.
She was halfway to the door when it slammed open, striking against the stone wall. It hit with such force, it bounced closed and was immediately hammered back again. She froze as her oldest brother strode in through the door. He rarely made the climb to her small tower room. She swallowed hard and forced herself to relax. Her brother was a bully and enjoyed other people’s fear of him. She tried not to give him that satisfaction.
“Where have you been, woman?” He stalked across the room to stand directly in front of her.
She had to tilt back her head to meet his gaze. He was a huge man, muscular and fit. At one point in his life, he’d been handsome as well. But years of drinking, hard living and bitterness had left their marks on his face. Deep lines encased his mouth and eyes and his cheeks and nose were florid with a combination of never-ending rage and drink.
“Did you need me for anything?” She kept her voice low and respectful.
His laughter wasn’t pleasant, but rather cruel. “You’re not of much use, are you, little sister?” She kept her tongue, knowing that anything she said at this point would only anger him further. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, digging them into her skin. “Useless, that’s what you are. Taking up space and eating food. And for what?” Practically shoving her away, he began to pace.
Genita began to sweat as nausea churned in her gut. Something was wrong and she strongly suspected that whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good for her.
“You just turned twenty, Genita.” He turned and strode back toward her. “It’s time to make yourself useful.”
She almost snorted with laughter at that comment. Useful! She’d been running their home and taking care of her loutish brothers her entire life. She was more slave than sister, having fewer rights and less respect than the scullery lads in the kitchen. She’d toiled from sunup until way past sunset every single day of her life and all she had to show for it was calloused hands, bruises and the scars on her body from years of beatings.
“We need to make a new alliance and you’re going to help us.”
She could feel herself paling. For years her brothers had threatened to marry her off, but it had never happened. They enjoyed dangling the prospect in front of potential allies, taking their gold and then laughingly sending them on their way. This time, she sensed, her brother was in deadly earnest.
“Why now?”
His hand shot out, striking her across the face. She stumbled backward but didn’t cry out. “Why?” he roared. “I’ll tell you why.” His face turned such a violent shade of red, she wondered if he might be having some kind of fit. “Ever since our brothers were brutally murdered last year, we have been shorthanded. Beyond that, some of our allies have turned from us because of the vile lies of our enemies.”
Genita curled her hands into fists at her sides. Her brother did like to rewrite history to suit his own purposes. Her other two brothers had brought on their own deaths when they ambushed another man. Their so-called allies were distancing themselves because they did not want to be part of any war that might result.
Swiping the back of his hand over his mouth, he wiped away the spittle that clung to the corner. His smile was filled with malicious glee as he made his pronouncement. “The Luther brothers are coming to visit.”
She swayed as she lost all feeling in her legs. Oh, gods, surely she’d misheard him! The Luther brothers were even worse than her own family. They were barbaric savages and it was said that they’d already killed one wife. “No.”
Her brother’s eyes widened with disbelief. “No? You dare to say no?”
Genita took a step backward. “You can’t mean it?” She knew her brothers had no love for her, but to give her in marriage to the Luther brothers . . . well, they might as well kill her.
He shrugged. “There are only two of them left in the family and their army is small, but they are willing to give us their alliance if we sweeten the pot with you. The fact that you are a virgin has them foaming at the mouth. They’re even fighting over which of them gets to break you in.” Laughing, he grabbed her by the shoulders, practically jerking her off her feet. “For once in your life, you have some value.”
Hauling back her hand, she struck her older brother in the face. The blow hurt her hand and his head jerked to one side. Both of them froze. Never in her life had she fought back. He shoved her so hard that she fell, striking her elbow on the floor and scraping her hands as she tried to catch herself.
“You will pay for that.” Never taking his eyes off her, his hands went to his
waist. He hauled off the thick leather belt, wrapping one end around his hand as he strode forward.
Genita closed her eyes, pulled her legs tight to her chest and prayed for strength.
• • •
Jarmon Bakra stood in the shadows. It was where he felt most comfortable. The corners of his mouth tilted upward as he watched his sister-in-law, Jane, flitting around the large trestle table. She directed Garrik to move several things for her as she arranged everything to her exact specifications. Jane did love to organize.
He raised his hand, tracing the side of his mouth. The scar that bisected the left side of his face pulled at the corner of his lips, making it resemble a sneer more than a smile. But then he didn’t smile much these days.
Dropping it back to his side, he opened and closed his ruined hand. He’d regained all the strength and dexterity in his left hand, even if he was missing the last two fingers. It had been a year since he’d almost been fatally wounded. The scars on the outside were still visible, but the ones inside him were worse. He doubted he’d have even survived them if not for the woman he was watching. She had given him the will to live.
Jane had been a gift to their family. Women were scarce in their world. As a result, it had been decreed generations ago that to keep men from killing one another, brothers would share a bride. For every three men, there was one woman. In their case, there were four of them, so they had the right to claim two wives, if they could find them. There were always at least two men for every woman, but no more than three. Only one man could marry the woman, but one night each week, he had to share her with his brothers, and all children were his, no matter which brother actually fathered them.
Jane had been brought to them by a magical tapestry. The tapestry had been created over five hundred years earlier by a sorceress who had woven it to give hope to the people of Javara during a time of great darkness in their history. It appeared once in every generation, bringing with it a woman from another time and world as a prospective bride. The sorceress had long since passed into other realms, but the legacy of her tapestry remained. It had already appeared once in this generation, bringing the Garen brothers the beautiful Christina. That should have been the end of it. But it had come again, this time bringing Jane.
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