Dragon's Moon (38 page)

“There is no chamber for healing in these caves,” the Balmoral stated. “Without a healer like Lais in our clan, or the sacred stone to draw upon, we are reliant on our Chrechte natures and the healing arts.”

Eirik felt sorry for the Faol in that moment. The Éan may have lived in the forest, hunted and in hiding, but they still had the old Chrechte ways.

“So, there is only this cave and your mating chamber?”

“No, there is a cave that branches off to the left there.” The Balmoral pointed with his hand. “Many Chrechte have spent the night in there when needing peace and solitude.”

It was not a healing chamber, but it sounded better than taking Ciara back to the castle. Eirik remembered to say, “Thank you,” before carrying her down the dimly lit tunnel.

L
ais led Mairi into the chamber of mating that the Balmoral had directed him to. Like the sacred caves on Sinclair land, it had a pool fed from an underground hot springs. Though the stone bath was smaller than the one in the other caves, it looked perfect for a mating.

Mairi's gaze flitted from place to place in the cave. “There are torches in the walls. Should we light them, do you think?”

“Aye.” He wanted to be able to see her lovely body.

“Oh. Are you sure?” she asked, seeming to have had the same thought, but a different reaction to it.

“Very.”

She nearly wrung the pleats from her skirt, she was yanking on it so hard. “You have an odd propensity for seeing me without clothing.”

“There is nothing strange about it, sweet one.” He took his flint and struck it on the wall of the cave to spark each torch.

Tinder dry, they caught fast. There were four torches in all. Enough to cast the small cavern in a soft yellow glow, but not so many all the shadows were dispelled.

He turned back to Mairi to find her staring with some
trepidation at a pile of furs a few feet from the pool casting steam into the air.

“Sweet one, you have naught to fear in our mating bed.”

She shook her head. “I know…I just…do you think others have lain there before?”

“I am sure many Chrechte have consummated their mating vows in that very spot. 'Tis a blessed place.” Lais drew closer, scenting the air. “But none have lain on the furs there now.”

The Balmoral had told him as much as well.

Mairi let out a breath. “You are certain?”

“Aye. The laird said they are a gift from the pack to each newly mated pair.”

“But we are not Balmoral.”

“He did not seem to care.”

“So, they're replaced after…” She cleared her throat. “After each mating?”

“That is what the Balmoral said.”

“That is kind, I think, and particularly to us as we are not part of their pack.”

“He accepted our vows as Chrechte alpha.”

“Still.”

“It is good of them,” Lais conceded, putting his hands on her shoulders and pulling her back against his body. “You are mine now, Mairi. Only mine.”

She turned in his arms, so her face was tilted up toward his, her blue eyes filled with emotion. “And you are mine.”

“Aye. From the moment Eirik laid you on the ground at my feet.”

Her bow-shaped lips curved. “You make it sound like he gifted me to you.”

“Fate did and Eirik was its messenger mayhap.”

“You are my gift, Lais. Do you not realize that?”

He opened his mouth to speak, to say he knew not what, but his throat was too tight for words. So, he kissed her. She melted against him, her arms circling his neck, her small hands locking in the hair at his nape.

He undressed her with care, though he knew that after the healing session he had insisted on that morning before
leaving the beach hut, she felt no more pain from her beating.

She let him remove her clothing, seemingly oblivious to it even happening. Though she moaned with clear awareness when he cupped her naked breast. 'Twas just the right size to fill his large hand and he kneaded it gently, enjoying both the feel of her silky skin and the tiny noises escaping her mouth against his lips.

He cupped her bottom with his other hand, running his fingertips along where one luscious curve met the back of her thigh. She arched into him, opening her mouth on instinct for him to deepen the kiss.

So innocently sensual, his virginal mate had him ready to explode without ever getting his kilt off.

And that would not do. Her first time must be special; it must show her the care his eagle had for the mate of his heart.

He lifted her and carried her to the furs, laying her down with care.

She smiled up at him. “I believe we have been here before.”

Giving the pale beauty of her body a long perusal, he had to disagree. “This is no healing session, little one.”

“You think not? But each caress you give me heals my heart a little bit more.”

“Then we heal each other.” For he had never known such a sense of peace and belonging as he felt when she was in his arms.

“Yes, let us heal each other.”

He stripped with hands made clumsy by their urgency, her eyes hot on him with love and desire every second it took. He finally kicked off his boots and joined her on the furs.

She didn't wait for him to renew the kiss but placed her mouth against his. He lowered his body over hers, his aroused and leaking sex trapped between them.

“Heal me,” she whispered against his lips.

His heart contracted and then swelled as it overflowed with love for this courageous human woman. He kneed her
legs apart and moved his hand down to fondle her most intimate flesh. Pleasure surged through him when he realized that she was already wet and slick with need.

Nevertheless, he was not going to rush this.

He took his time stretching tissues that had never known any sort of invasion. He could feel the proof of her virginity, but it would not have mattered if he couldn't. This woman was his in every way and would accept him into her body with the kind of love he had never even let himself dream about.

They moved together, his hands on her body, her small ones exploring his until the time came. And they joined.

There was some pain, but he concentrated his Chrechte gift with more ease than he would ever experience with another and healed her inner flesh even as his body claimed hers.

Soon she was begging him to hurry, to go deeper…and he gave her all that she asked for.

Including his heart.

Chrechte power surged through the cavern when they came and he knew that despite the odds, he had just planted his seed deep in her womb.

E
irik woke with the change in Ciara's heartbeat that indicated she was aware of her surroundings once again. She had slept away the evening and most of the night. With instincts honed by years of living and hunting in the forest, he could sense that dawn was not far off.

They had shared their dreams again, his raven taking her flying in the only landscape they would ever be able to share the sky together. Then Eirik had lulled her into a deep sleep within her somnolence that would renew her strength more completely than normal rest would have.

“Hmmm…I suppose I should be used to waking in the arms of a dragon, but I'm not. It is magical.”

And do you like it? This magic?
he asked via their mating link, sure he knew the answer.

She rubbed her head along his thick dragon arm she'd used for a pillow. “I do.”

Good.

“I think I know where the
Faolchú Chridhe
is.”

After all the vision had taken out of her, he would not be happy if it were otherwise.
Where?

“On MacLeod land, I think.” Then Ciara told him about her vision, repeating her dialogue with the
kelle
word for word from the sounds of it.

And Eirik could barely breathe for the shock of his mate conversing with one of the ancient ones.
Anya-Gra has never spoken to an ancestor.

“Perhaps the Éan have never needed the kind of guidance the Faol do now.”

According to Boisin's dreams, both our races need you to find the stone.
He brushed along her hip with his tail before curving it around her and tucking Ciara closer to his massive dragon's body.

“You are right. I do not understand why, but I'm not about to question it. Not after everything.”

No. She had seen too much in her own visions to question Boisin's.
We return to the mainland immediately after breaking our fast.

“All right, but can you shift?”

Of course.
He did so, allowing his dragon form to shrink back into his man. “You are not yet used to speaking with the mate-link.”

“It's not that.” The cavern was dark, but he could hear a smile in her voice.

“What then?”

She pulled him into the warmth of the furs, sliding her naked body against his. He'd undressed her, believing she would rest better without all the layers of clothing she usually wore.

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips and then spoke with their mouths only a hairsbreadth apart. “I want my wedding night.”

“'Tis almost morning.”

“Then you had best get on it, hadn't you?”

Joy unlike anything he'd ever known or expected bubbled from deep inside him as the kiss went incendiary.

This woman was his and she wanted him. Not just the power of his dragon, not only the prince of his people, or the gifts of his raven…but him. Eirik Taran Gealach Gra.

And he wanted her, her beauty, her passion, her kind heart she tried so hard to hide. All that made Ciara of the Sinclair who she was. He did not understand the profundity of his emotion any better than she did the prophecy, but like his
faolán
, he would accept.

Gladly.

And he would give her a wedding night never to be forgotten.

C
iara wasn't really surprised to find Niall and two of her father's most trusted warriors waiting with the horses, instead of the eagle shifter they had left there, when she and Eirik landed on the mainland later that morning.

Niall waited for Eirik to transform from his dragon before stepping forward. “The Sinclair has ordered these two Chrechte warriors to accompany you on the remainder of your quest.”

He indicated Everett and his younger brother, whose grandmother had been a white wolf. Both men were unmated, but they had controlled the shift from the first glimpse of their wolves.

She cast an anxious glance at Eirik, worried he would take offense at her father's edict.

But her mate merely nodded. “They are welcome. The Balmoral sent one of his wolves and one of the Éan to accompany us as well.”

She hadn't known that. “Who?” she demanded.

“Artair and Vegar, one of the strongest and most deadly among Éan guardian warriors.”

“Is Vegar a man or woman?” The name was unfamiliar to her.

Eirik smiled. “While all Éan females are trained for
warfare, few become guardian warriors as my sister did. Vegar is a man.”

“I see. Why didn't you mention before we left Balmoral Island that two more warriors would be joining us on our journey to the healing caves of our ancestors?”

He frowned as if her question made no sense to him. “Those caves are on MacLeod lands. Of course we will increase our fighting force when venturing among the enemy.”

“We aren't going to wage war.” Though Ciara wouldn't mind taking her dirk to Mairi's father.

“Your safety is paramount.”

Because she was a seer and the keeper of the stone. Ciara shrugged. “You are not going to let anything happen to me.”

Eirik was a dragon, for goodness' sake.

“I am but one man and the search will be made easier for the number of eyes on the task.”

She was sure he was right about that, but the larger their party, the harder to hide their presence on MacLeod lands. “You are more than a mere man.”

“As are the warriors under MacLeod's authority.”

“We have learned he is alpha over the largest pack in the Highlands,” Niall said grimly.

“But that's not possible. Their clan isn't that large.”

Niall's frown was fiercer than usual. “And it is almost entirely Chrechte.”

An atavistic thrill of dread went through Ciara. “How can that be?”

“It is not an answer you want,” Niall assured her. “Accept only that MacLeod's greatest sin was not beating his daughter.”

Then the man's sins must be heinous indeed, for that one was terrible enough.

Everett and his brother both looked a little green and she realized they must have been privy to the MacLeod soldier's interrogation, or at least the results.

“How many Chrechte did he send after Mairi?” Ciara asked her father's second-in-command.

“Six.”

“How many live?”

Niall's countenance grew even dourer. “Four.”

“Will they submit to our laird?”

“They will, and gladly.” It was Everett's turn to speak.

That, more than anything, spoke to the evil that MacLeod perpetrated. Faol were loyal to their pack. “So, it is war?” she asked, fearing she knew the answer.

Niall's jaw ticked. “After the
Faolchú Chridhe
is found.”