Moon Burning (35 page)

He tugged at her plaid and she removed it. He seemed content for her to leave her shift on as he rubbed his head and body against her sides and legs, leaving behind the distinct scent that he usually masked.

He nuzzled the small of her back with his snout and she laughed, ticklish though she had not known it. He yipped and she laughed again, their solemn ritual degenerating into a game of wrestling that had her laughing as she had not done in years.

He had her pinned to the ground, his wolf’s tongue lolling from his grinning mouth above her. The fresh scents of the forest mixed with his unique fragrance and she breathed in deeply, discovering how much she really liked it.

She could not speak the words of love burning in her chest, but she could tell him that there was no part of him she could or would ever despise again.

“Barr, acting laird of the Donegal clan, pack alpha and my mate, I accept you, and every part of who you are, irrevocably as not only my mate but the other half of my soul.” The love was there, if he wanted to see it, but she would not press it on him when his feelings were not in the same place.

The air shimmered and a man now pinned her, a large man who blocked out the waning light and overwhelmed her every sense with his presence. Furthermore, a man whose arousal grew against her hip with insistent rapidity.

“Thank you.” And then his mouth claimed hers gently and with a wealth of tenderness that brought moisture to her eyes.

She closed them, unwilling to allow him to see her weakness, and returned the kiss with every bit of emotion clamoring for release from her heart. She could feel his wolf’s presence in a way she had not before.

Had he been holding back? Had she blinded herself? She would not let it matter; what did was that, finally, their mating was truly that of the Chrechte and not merely two human bodies coming together.

Their lovemaking was slow and tender, ending in a mutually shared pinnacle that made her world fade to nothing but his body above hers. She could see naught but him; she could feel nothing but the way their bodies still joined; she could hear nothing but the sound of his heart and his breathing.

Until the sound of an eagle’s call shattered the joy-filled silence between them.

She turned her head in time to see the bird swoop from the sky, talons extended. It was clearly going for the pack Barr had removed from the horse and dropped when she had sought to make peace with him.

Barr rolled aside, shifting as he did, his wolf’s body leaping for the bird, while she dove for the pack—for the
Clach Gealach Gra
, which she must protect at any cost.

She threw herself on top, curling herself around it as the eagle changed course, flying out of Barr’s reach. Her mate shifted back to human form and grabbed for his dagger.

He pivoted and went to throw it.

Do not kill him,
she screamed into her mate’s head.

He didn’t bother to reply, sending the dagger into the air. It snagged the eagle’s wing and the bird tried to right itself, but could not. It spun and lost the air from under its wings, tumbling toward the earth with nothing to break its fall.

Except Barr was there, waiting, his arms extended. The eagle landed against him with a thud, its talons digging into his chest, even as it fought for its freedom.

She was on her feet and running, throwing her arms around the flapping wings, pinning them to the bird’s body as Barr grabbed its talons with hands careful not to wound. Once again, she was struck anew by the honor and deep commitment to life of her mate.

In an instant, the eagle was a man. His elbow came back, striking her in the chest and knocking the air out of her.

In the past, she would not have let go. But in the past, she had not had Barr. Nor had she carried his babe. She did now, though, and she had no choice but to release the fighting man before he could do damage to her and the child she carried.

Jumping back, she scurried out of the way so Barr could subdue the eagle shifter without worrying about her. Despite the blood from the wounds in his chest making him and his opponent slick, he did it quickly.

When Barr had the eagle shifter immobilized, so she could see the man’s face, Sabrine could barely breathe for her shock.

He was clearly Éan, but she had never seen him before. “Who are you?”

Barr smacked the man’s head and said, “I’ll introduce you.”

“You?” she asked in shock.

“Aye, this is the
human
, Lais.” He stressed the word
human
and drew it out with clear mocking intent. “Cousin to our Brigit; I’ve been training him to fight. He still has a lot to learn.”

Lais glared at Barr.

“Though his strength with a bow has been lauded to me by his relatives.” The significance of this statement was not lost on Sabrine.

“It was you. But why?” Why would a bird shifter try to kill Barr, a wolf who so clearly stood for what was good and honorable among the Faol? And her, one of his own people?

The very idea went through her heart like a poison-tipped spear. Knees going weak, she stumbled back a little, almost tripping on the bag with the
Clach Gealach Gra
.

He would have taken it and done what? Kept it for himself? To what purpose?

Her throat so tight she could not speak, she simply stared at the young man who would destroy his own people.

“Sweeting . . .” Barr spoke softly as if to an easily startled animal.

She let her gaze shift to him. The warmth and compassion she saw in his eyes were very near her undoing.

She had spent her entire life knowing she and all her brethren were hated by the Faol, but to be so despised by one of their own? That was a gaping, bleeding wound in her soul.

“My precious warrior princess—”

“I’m not.”

“What?” he asked, oh so gently.

“A princess. I renounced my claim to the throne.”

Barr’s eyes widened.

“You’re nothing but a murdering raven.” Bone-deep loathing infused every word out of Lais’s mouth.

She would not look at him. This kind of hatred was too hard to take. “Ravens cannot murder, unless their nature has become so twisted, their bird no longer has the power to influence emotions and thought.”

“Liar.”

The sound of a blow being struck sounded. Lais oophed and fell to the ground with a thump.

Barr’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Sabrine, my own, please put your shift on.”

The mundane request almost made her laugh, but she was afraid if she started, she would not stop until it ended in hysterical tears.

“Your possessiveness is showing. We are Chrechte.”

“I
am
possessive.” He did not sound sorry at all.

And she did not mind. She would much rather think about her mate’s unreasonable dislike of nakedness. He’d been quick to cover her in front of Muin that first day in the forest, too.

She looked around and found her shift, pulling it on quickly. Though it made no sense to her, she felt better with this small barrier between her and the eagle shifter.

She was Chrechte, but maybe more human than she had ever realized.

She looked at Barr. “Better?”

“Aye.” He smiled, though his eyes still reflected that tender concern.

She made herself turn and face Lais. “Ravens do not murder. I have never killed except in protection of my people.”

“Ravens killed my father, the last eagle shifter.”

S
omething snapped inside Sabrine and she stormed over to the puling hatchling. She was so tired of the deceptions, so sickened by Rowland’s legacy in a clan made up of truly, mostly good people and the Chrechte intent on protecting them. “
You idiot
. First, your father was not the last eagle shifter, though if you’d succeeded in stealing the
Clach Gealach Gra
, a generation from now would see the end of the entire Éan race.”

“Good. The ravens deserve to die. They’ve been tormenting the other Chrechte for hundreds of years.”

“Where did you hear such stupidity?” As if she didn’t know. “And I didn’t just say ravens. You would have succeeded in ending the eagle shifters, of whom there are not many, but who do still exist in freedom in the forest. You who should fight for your people’s existence would have done what the hateful among the Faol had failed to do, though they have tried for more than two centuries.”

“The Faol tried to protect my father.” But the youth’s voice faltered with lack of conviction.

Barr demanded, “What wolf tried to protect him and failed?”

“Rowland.” Lais’s shoulders drooped, his gaze dropping as if he knew already how unutterably foolish he had been to trust the former laird.

Barr snorted derisively. “The same man who raped your aunt was your father’s would-be savior? The same man who nearly destroyed the clan with his selfishness? You hid your nature from him, didn’t you?”

The boy nodded, his sadness and confusion even more evident.

“You sensed it was not safe to tell him of your nature.”

“It made no difference. I cannot pass it on.”

“You missed your coming of age ceremony?” Sabrine asked in pained tones.

Lais nodded. “My father told me about it, about how wonderful it would be, what gifts it might bestow, the ones I would lose if I did not follow the old Chrechte ways; he died before my time came.”

A great deal of Sabrine’s anger drained away. “So, you thought to make other shifters pay for your loss?”

“No. I . . . the ravens . . .”

“Would have helped your father, had we known about him. We would have made certain you had your coming of age ceremony and received all your gifts from the
Clach Gealach Gra
.”

“You aren’t stupid in training; how is it you still believe Rowland told you the truth of your father’s death?”

“Why would he lie?”

Sabrine answered when Barr seemed stuck for words. “Because in his own twisted way, he had a sense of justice. If you were not a shifter, a true Éan, he did not want to kill you.”

“But he . . .”

“Betrayed you and your family in every way possible.” Barr had plenty of words to say now.

The boy’s head bowed and though his tears were silent, she could smell them. And she could not stand his pain, but before she could comfort him, Barr was there on one knee.

He laid a hand on the young Chrechte’s shoulder. “You were deceived, like many before you.”

“But my da. He was all I had . . .” The words trailed off in a pain-filled whisper.

Barr did not say anything, but he remained as he was, allowing the other man to grieve.

Sabrine finished dressing and then took the pack with the sacred stone into the cave. Emotionally drained and more exhausted than she could ever remember being, she laid out the bedroll.

Lais could sleep in Barr’s plaid.

But first she would have to see to both his and Barr’s wounds.

Neither man argued when she insisted on washing the blood away with sand and water from the small loch. Perhaps they noted her tiredness, or mayhap it was the snappish tone she used to order them both to the water. A more feminine woman, one like Verica, would no doubt take a softer tone and gentle approach.

You are as feminine as any woman and perfect as you are,
Barr said in her mind as she carefully washed the blood and dirt from the wounds on his chest.

He and Lais would have to soak in the sacred springs when they reached them the next night, but for now this would have to do.

Thank you,
she replied in mindspeak, too tired to talk even.

Barr was silent and Lais was subdued as she finished her ministrations.

Finally, she forced words from her mouth. “I am no healer like Verica, but this should help.” She examined the eagle shifter’s arm, now that it was clean of blood and dirt. “You are lucky. Barr’s dagger caused a flesh wound, but you could fly if you had to.”

“I . . . I am sorry. It is not enough and I deserve my fate, but I am glad I did not kill you with my arrows.” Lais bravely met her gaze.

She sighed. “Me, too.”

“While I am not impressed by your accuracy, I am pleased in this instance that you missed entirely. If you had harmed my mate, I would have no choice but to kill you.” Barr did not sound tired in the least.

“You mean you are not going to . . . to . . .” Lais looked lost for words, though she could guess what he meant.

So did Barr. “And waste my mate’s efforts at tending your wounds? I wouldna dare.”

Sabrine smiled for the first time in what felt like days.

Barr winked at her and she shook her head. Arrogant,
charming
man.

“You said there are more eagle shifters?” Lais asked tentatively.

“There are. If Barr approves it, I can ask them to take you to train.”