The Warrior's Captive Bride. Jenna Kernan

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      “What? The owl?” He blew away a long, suffering breath. “I hear them...everywhere.” He fixed his gaze on her and she wondered again who was this man?

      “Would you hear of the sun dance?”

      She nodded numbly.

      “It was my hope that the sun dance would cure me. I blew my whistle, and I prayed for the Great Spirit to rid me of my weakness. That my prayers would rise up like the sacred tobacco smoke to the Great Spirit. I leaned away from the attachments in my chest.”

      She flinched at his words but he continued on.

      “But the pain did not bring me closer to the spirit world. I smelled burning flesh and the ringing began. At first I thought it was the eagle whistles. But the sound was inside my head, and I fell before I could prove myself worthy of answered prayers.”

      “You fell in front of everyone?”