Dragon's Moon (42 page)

Suddenly, his hands were on either side of her face and their gazes were locked with primal messages arcing
between them. “I saved you for me. You are mine. You will always be mine and you will always come first. Before my warriors, before my friends, and God forgive me, even before our people.”

“But you…that's not…”

“I love you,” he said in ancient Chrechte and the air around them crackled.

Pure white light flashed between them and burning heat seared her breast, right over her heart. Then the air was still, the light gone and she looked down at Eirik's chest, certainty mixed with utter disbelief roiling through her.

But she was right. He now wore a mating mark right over his heart. His hand dropped from her face to trace the spot that had burned so sharply only moments before on her breast. “You are marked as my other half.”

“You are marked as mine.”

“For eternity.” It wasn't just her desire, but the truth. The symbol for it enclosed his mating mark and she was sure her matching one.

“My dragon will have to kill again, in protection of our people.”

“And I will be here with you to wash away the pain.”

“With your love.”

She nodded. “With my love.”

And that is exactly what she did.

Abigail, who knew much from her correspondence with a learned abbess, had once told Ciara that the philosopher Aristotle had maintained that love was composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

Ciara thought maybe the ancient philosopher had been part Chrechte, but certainly he'd gotten one thing right. Because her soul was forever entwined with Eirik's and 'twas most definitely love.

For no other power on earth would have been great enough to break through the walls of fear she'd erected around her heart so many years ago and give her hope for a future that might even one day include children.

I
t took several days to find the ancient chamber of the Faol, perhaps because Eirik and Ciara were content to spend more time in the sacred caves affirming their love than searching. That, if nothing else, convinced Ciara that Eirik had spoken the truth when he said she was of utmost importance to him.

The cavern was not actually hidden so much as forgotten. Deep in the earth and down another one of those narrow, very long passages, it looked exactly as it had in Ciara's vision.

“I suppose the Faol stopped coming when there was no
Faolchú Chridhe
to lay hands on,” she mused.

Eirik frowned and shook his head as he lit the torches on the walls in the stone chamber. “I'm sure Fearghall encouraged any but his chosen few to forget it and the sacred stone's existence.”

“Whoever decided we did not need to perform our sacred rites because we no longer had a stone to bless them stole so much from the Faol.”

“I am sure the
kelle
will help you remember them,” Eirik comforted Ciara.

“She did say I would see her again.”

“And you will.” Eirik smiled. “I have the feeling the ancient
kelle
will be a lifelong friend and mentor for you.”

“You may be right, but as wonderful as that prospect is…” Ciara reached up and kissed her mate, her husband with all the love that welled forth from her heart for him in a continuous fount. “It cannot compete with the certainty I will spend that lifetime with you.”

Eirik's eyes glinted with moisture she would never comment on as he gave her the brilliant smile she'd seen first the night he admitted his love for her. “Nothing can compete with that truth,
faolán
.”

The secret of Happiness is Freedom, and the secret of Freedom, Courage.

—T
HUCYDIDES

T
heir family and dearest friends joined Eirik and Ciara for the mating ceremony performed by Anya-Gra in the ancient chamber of the Faol. Both spoke their vows with such certainty and love that many an eye grew wet with moisture.

Afterward, they laid hands together on both the
Clach Gealach Gra
and the
Faolchú Chridhe
. Chrechte magic swirled in the air around them and each witness of the mating came forward one by one to lay hands on the stone of their people.

The warriors still wounded from battle with the MacLeod Chrechte were first and each was healed so that not even scars remained from wounds so grievous humans would have died. Sabrine, Eirik's sister, followed with her son.

Then came Mairi. The air around her glowed with green light, but she did not shift into wolf.

Ciara grinned as she looked at her friend. “You can feel her spirit in you, can you not?”

Mairi just nodded, tears streaking down her face.

“You'll shift with the first full moon after you give birth. Your bairn will be an eagle shifter,” Ciara promised in a voice that was more than her own.

A loud thump revealed Lais's reaction to the news. The healer who fought like a warrior had fainted.

Ciara motioned for her mother to come forth.

“But I am not Chrechte,” Abigail said.

“The bairn inside you is,” Niall said from beside her.

Abigail nodded and placed her hands on the
Faolchú Chridhe
. Ciara covered her adopted mother's hands with her own and drew forth on the connection between the babe in Abigail's womb and the
Faolchú Chridhe
. Healing light surrounded them and suddenly Abigail cried out.

“What is it?” Talorc demanded.

“I can hear.” Abigail began to cry and her sister threw her arms around her, babbling words of love and joy.

Then Ciara spoke, again her voice not quite her own. “The lairds must each lay hands on the
Faolchú Chridhe
.”

Each did, green light bathing them for several seconds, before the men stepped back one by one.

“You are worthy protectors of your people,” Ciara intoned. “On the next full moon, you will gain the form of the
conriocht
.”

And then she turned to her dragon. “The burden is no longer yours alone to bear.”

“Soon, the Paindeal will be found and the Chrechte will be one people again,” Mairi said, her eyes glowing with blue light.

“But first there is a war to be fought for the hearts of Chrechte turned by the twisted teachings of the Fearghall,” Ciara intoned. “The Cahir must rise again and Chrechte of the MacLeod defeat his own.”

Love and unity would win, but the war would be long and not every battle without loss.

bairn
—baby

beguines
—self-running nunnery without vows to the church, not supported by the official church as related to Rome (historically accurate term in the British Isles)

ben
—hill

Ben Bristecrann
—broken tree hill (a sacred spot to Ciara's family)

brae
—hillside or slope

Cahir
—warriors who fight the Fearghall

celi di
—Scottish Highland priest practicing Catholicism with no official ties to the church in Rome (historically accurate term in relation to Scotland and Ireland)

Chrechte
—shifters who share their souls with wolves, birds or cats of prey

Clach Gealach Gra
—(moon's heart stone) the bird shifters' sacred stone

conriocht
—werewolf (protector of the Faol, shifts into giant half-wolf/half-man type creature)

Éan
—bird shifters (ravens, eagles and hawks)

Faol
—wolf shifters

faolán
—little wolf (Gaelic term of endearment)

Faolchú Chridhe
—(wolf's heart) the wolf shifters' sacred stone

Fearghall
—secret society of wolves intent on wiping out/subjugating other races of the Chrechte

femwolf
—female wolf shifter

keeper of the stone
—a Chrechte who has a special link to the sacred stone and can utilize its full potential for healing, gifting and bringing forth the protectors of the races (conriocht, dragon and griffin)

kelle
—warrior priestess (mentioned in Celtic mythology)

Kyle Kirksonas
—River of the Healing Church

loch
—lake

mate
—a Chrechte's chosen partner (if it is a mixed mating—Chrechte of different races, or a human mate—children can only result if the bond is a true/sacred one)

mate-link
—the special mental bond between true/sacred mates

mindspeak
—communicating via a mental link

mo gra
—my love

Paindeal
—cat shifters (large cats of prey)

Paindeal Neart
—(panther's strength) the panther shifters' sacred stone

sacred bond (true bond)
—a mating bond that lasts unto death and will not physically allow the Chrechte involved to have intercourse with anyone but the Chrechte's mate

usquebagh
—“water of life” (Scotch whiskey)

“M
ummy, they're giants!”

It wasn't her son's excited shout that sent a shard of pain spiking through Shona's head, but the sight of soldiers wearing the Sinclair colors approaching at speed—on horses every bit as oversized as they were.

The headache had arrived with the large brown wolf that had paced them for the better part of the morning. Only the pounding in her skull hadn't left when the beast did.

Terrified the animal would attack, she'd ridden tense in her saddle with a dagger at the ready. However, the wolf had maintained its distance, finally running off just before the noon sun cast its shadow.

Her mind and senses already stretched to the point of exhaustion with what had come before this journey, the appearance of the wolf had pushed Shona that much nearer collapse.

But she would not give up. Her children's lives and those of two loyal friends depended on Shona maintaining both sanity and composure.

So she had taken her little daughter, Marjory, back from her companion, Audrey, and ridden on.

Shona had hoped her luck would hold, as it had miraculously for nearly two sennight's of their mad dash north, but it was not to be.

They'd reached Sinclair land late the night before, managing somehow to both evade anyone her stepson may have sent after them and avoid the inhabitants of the clan territories she and her small band had passed through.

Until now.

She had no trouble understanding how her five-year-old son, Eadan, had mistaken the approaching soldiers for giants. These Highlanders would easily stand a head taller, and half again as wide, as any knight who had sworn allegiance to her dead husband.

Considering what was behind her, Shona could wish that these men were of the clan she'd come north to seek refuge with, but she knew she had no friends or family among the Sinclairs. They weren't likely to take kindly to what they would perceive as an Englishwoman trespassing on their land. Perhaps the laird would approve safe passage through, if only to get rid of her and her companions. She could but hope.

She had to make her way to Balmoral Isle.

It was the only chance they had at safety, her one hope to preserve her son's life and her own virtue. Or what was left of it.

At Balmoral, she had family, at least, though the relation was somewhat distant. She had no doubt her arrival would come as something of a shock. She could only hope it was not a wholly unwelcome one.

“They're not giants, sweeting, merely warriors of the clan that makes these lands their home.” Shona tried to infuse her tone with confidence while her own mind screamed with warnings and worries.

“Really?” Eadan asked, his eyes, the same indigo blue as his father's, filled with awe.

“These are Highland warriors?” Audrey asked, before Shona had the chance to affirm her assertion to her son. “They're huge.”

“'Tis the way of the Highlands, I suppose.” And among some of the clans that bordered the Highlands as well, like the one in which she'd grown up.

Audrey gave her twin brother a sideways look. “Perhaps you've got more growing to do, but I don't think you'll reach their stature, even so.”

Thomas looked chagrined. “You don't know that.”

Shona couldn't imagine why they were speculating at all. Thomas was English, just like his sister; children of a lesser baron whose holding bordered her dead husband's on the west and was only a few miles from land claimed by Scotland's king.