Moon Burning (24 page)

“I do wish you peace, though I fear you are far from it yet as laird of this clan.” Not to mention a Chrechte male whose true mate would have no choice but to abandon him sooner than either would be happy with.

His eyes said he read her thoughts and still his smile grew. “You are a unique woman, my little warrior princess.” He spoke the last words in an undertone, but she heard them.

Her father had used to call her his little princess. The emotions that welled up as Barr reminded her of those halcyon days before her parents’ murders threatened to choke Sabrine.

He touched the small of her back, his action both possessive and comforting.
The future is not so bleak as you believe,
he said into her mind.

The rest of the clan settled back to their original places, but now Barr stood beside her rather than near Earc. His hand remained at the small of her back as well and she could feel the close scrutiny of many around them.

Father Thomas and Padraig offered Communion. She’d heard of it, from the humans that lived among the Éan, but had never seen it administered. The sense of connecting with the spiritual during the ritual was as strong as the communal worship the Chrechte practiced. It should not have surprised her, but it did.

After all had partaken of the bread and sipped from the chalice, the clan and the priest spoke that strange language, the Latin, in unison.

Father Thomas presented Earc and Verica as a married couple, though Sabrine was sure all present were well aware they had spoken their vows.

Everyone dispersed, though some she recognized from that morning headed toward the forest rather than to their cottages. They did not take a direct route, she noted, but their destination was clear to her.

She turned to Barr.
Will there be a Chrechte mating?

The ability to speak to him thus and ask what she was curious about without worrying about being overheard was an amazing freedom. Even with her abilities among her people, she did not take it for granted.

He shrugged.
Rowland led the pack to do things differently, but ’tis the intent behind those present at the ceremony, not where it is held, that holds importance.

Perhaps for the Faol, but there is power in the caves of the sacred springs for the Éan.
It was not only the
Clach Gealach Gra
that impacted the strength of the coming of age ceremony.

She shook her head, unwilling to discuss the topic further.

 

 

B
arr stood alone as the last howls of the Chrechte mating ceremony faded into silence. He wanted Sabrine beside him, but she’d refused to come, saying her Chrechte nature would be obvious to her enemies if she accompanied him. He thought she’d let that particular secret into the light when she’d saved Earc and stayed with Barr through the funeral pyre burning for Rowland.

However the Éan lived, one thing was certain. She was so used to her role as female warrior, she had not realized the fact that slipping into it amidst a traditional clan would give away her odd origins. Even a Highland clan was not accustomed to women dressing as men and carrying swords.

But he’d liked it. It had made him hot. And knowing she had put herself at risk to save Earc had scared the arrogance right out of Barr. This woman would be hard to protect, and while that worried him, it also intrigued him.

He’d heard the tales of warrior women among the Chrechte in times past, but never thought to meet one. Did not believe any yet remained.

His beautiful mate proved him wrong and showed her prowess while doing it. What would it be like to hunt with her in the sky and him on the ground?

He got hard just thinking about it.

No matter how different she was from the other females he had known, Sabrine was the ideal mate for him.

Not that she agreed. Damn it. Even though she could not deny their sacred bond, she refused to be recognized as his mate before his clan. Her rejection was like a splinter in his soul he did not know how to draw out. It felt like a betrayal of not only his wolf but the man who had put duty above personal desires his entire life. She, his beautiful, perfectly-matched-for-him mate, was his
reward
. As only a sacred mate could be.

Only she refused to be counted as such.

He had always believed that his prize merely waited on the other side of one more sacrifice, that elusive mate he had wanted since learning what a sacred bond could bring. He had watched his brother finally find joy with his own true mate. Their family increased by one, Barr had begun to hope, if only in the most secret recesses of his soul. A tiny voice, barely recognized had whispered that mayhap he would not die without knowing his own.

Well, he knew her, but she insisted their time together was limited.

As the power of the mating ceremony swelled around the Chrechte in the cavern his personal confusion increased.

How could she hope to deny him the future their natures destined? How could she withhold children, companionship, intimacy? Did she care nothing for the losses they would both suffer if she tried to leave him?

He would not let her do it.

No matter what she thought she had to do, he would not let his mate abandon their sacred bond.

Barr waited for the weight of the silence to grow heavy with meaning before speaking the final Chrechte blessing on the couple, as pack alpha, and leading the others out of the cave.

Earc would couple with Verica and their joining would be the final act in a mating that only death would sunder.

Barr envied his second, but did not begrudge the other man his future contentment. Earc was more than deserving of the gift Heaven had chosen to bestow on him.

Barr refused to believe he was not equally as deserving.

Instinct drove him to shift into the wolf and he raced through the forest, not toward the keep, but away from it.

It took some time and careful tracking with his wolf’s senses, but he found the spot in the forest where he had first come upon his mate. He sniffed at the leaves and grass, the trace scent of his mate and her spilled blood almost gone from the spot. He snuffled at the earth and then turned in an agitated circle before dropping to curl into the earth where she had lain.

 

 

V
erica felt the press of spiritual power as her Chrechte brethren exited the cave. She heard the others leave, but did not watch them go, her eyes fixed firmly on her new mate.

Earc watched her with a hunger she feared she would not be able to satiate. Her desire for him was very strong, but the voracious need emanating from him was all warrior wolf and so powerful it was a living presence between them.

“You look worried, mate,” he said softly.

She nodded, her throat too dry to speak.

He cupped her face in his big hands. “What has you so concerned?”

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“This?” he asked, looking almost amused.

She frowned, tugging the fur farther up her body. “Yes,
this
.”

He pulled on the fur; it slipped before she could grab it again. Her breasts were exposed, her nipples hardening immediately in the cool night air.

One of his hands slid down to curl over her rounded flesh and his golden brown gaze flashed with arousal, the wolf a shadow in his irises. “This . . .” He hefted her generous curve and brushed one thumb over her nipple, sending pleasure arrowing directly to her womb.
“This is beautiful.”

She could not speak past the lump in her throat. She had never thought to have a mate, but if she had ever allowed herself to fantasize about even having a
husband
, it would not have been a man so amazing. A man whose strength could be trusted, a man who protected others at cost to himself, a man who stirred her like no other.

Because she had never known one before Earc came to live with her clan.

Watching her as closely as a parent did a babe taking its first steps, he squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “
So
beautiful.”

“I am not so special.”

“You are.” Sincerity lent his husky tones an almost harsh edge.

He caressed her breast, his big hand so gentle, she wanted to weep. And so much more. It sent shivers of pleasure through her that she had not known she could feel.

His nostrils flared as heated wetness formed between her legs.

She nuzzled into his hand, her own wolf craving the connection, her raven seeking that affectionate touch against her neck and head.

His eyes flared with something warm and tender and he leaned forward to rub his raspy cheek against her smooth one. The fragrance of their mingled scents surrounded them, making her feel safe in a way she had not since her da did not return from his last ill-fated hunt.

Earc’s hands on her body added to more than her sensual pleasure. Each caress enhanced the sense that she was no longer alone, no longer solely responsible for her brother’s welfare, no longer required to watch over her shoulder as well as what was before her.

Because this man, this wolf, who had claimed her for mate, would protect her from what might try to sneak up from behind.

An image of Earc standing before her, sword in hand, came into her mind and she knew it did not come from her. He was affirming the fact she was his to protect now, just as he was hers.

She didn’t try to tell him so; she was no warrior, but there were other ways to protect someone. She’d been keeping her brother from his enemies for the years since their mother’s death.

That job was now Barr and Earc’s responsibility. The sense of freedom and relief that realization gave her was so great, it made her light-headed. She swayed in Earc’s hold.

He pulled back, his golden brown eyes boring into hers. “What is amiss?”

“Nothing.” Joy flowed over her in an unstoppable wave. “Everything is finally coming right.”

A smile curved his gorgeous mouth. “Aye, it is right.”

Her happiness bubbled forth in laughter. “I’m going to like being your mate, I think.”

“Without doubt.”

She shook her head at his arrogance. “I am glad to no longer be alone.”

“You have had your brother, have you not?”

“I had to protect him, protect our birthright,
alone
.”

“Now, ’tis Barr’s and my responsibility.”

“That is exactly what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking about your brother while I kissed you?” Earc asked, sounding none too pleased by the prospect.

“It was all part of my newfound joy.”

“You find happiness in my arms.”

“Not as much as I plan to,” she admitted boldly.

His grin fell away as a feral expression took over his features just before his lips closed over hers again. This kiss was one wolf claiming another, nothing held back and yet, he was not rough with her.

His lips demanded a response; his tongue tasted and insisted she return the tasting; his hand on her breast slid down to touch her most intimate flesh as his mouth staked the mating claim.

The scent of her feminine arousal blossomed to a strong fragrance as he brought forth more wetness from her heated depths. He touched a spot that made her body go rigid with excitement. He did it again and she cried out against his demanding lips.

A dark laugh sounded between them, but it was not coming from his mouth. She went absolutely still. The laughter sounded again, this time exultant.

And then his voice inside her head.
Aye, you are my true mate and none will ever take you from me
.

I thought we had to . . .
Her mental voice failed before she could finish.

She could feel his shrug, though his body had not moved.
Chrechte magic does as it likes
.

She had no answer for that. Her mum used to say the same when her touch healed one clan member and not another.

All thoughts fled as Earc’s hands on Verica’s body built her pleasure to a near-terrifying precipice. Her fear mixed with the overwhelming delight and he soothed her with mental images of her body being cradled against his in perfect safety. “It is all right, my precious one. Jump off the cliff; I will catch you.”

She did, releasing the rigid control on her muscles. Her body convulsed in a cataclysm of sensation so overpowering, she could not think, could not move, could not speak; she could only feel and what she felt was the most amazing and delightful experience of her life.

Her womb convulsed, her core throbbed and bursts of light exploded behind her eyelids. Her wolf howled; her raven trilled in a way a real raven would not and her human woman simply screamed her pleasure. She was still shaking with the joy of it when he lay her back and came over the top of her, his hard member pressed against the opening to her body.

“We are one,” he said in Chrechte.

“Always to be,” she replied in a panting voice.

He surged inside. Pain blossomed and she bucked against him, trying to throw him off. He would not be moved, but his eyes filled with regret. “I would have avoided the pain of breaching your maidenhead if I could.”

She believed him, despite the sense of utter satisfaction covering him.

He shifted and she whimpered. He went absolutely motionless, his every muscle rigid with the effort. “Tell me when I can move.”

“Next year mayhap.”

“I am not laughing.”

“Neither am I.”

“I do not want to hurt you.”

“I can see that you don’t.”

His face was contorted with a pain easily equal to hers, though of a very different nature. But his body did not move.