Moon Burning (9 page)

“They made a good start on it today.” Barr’s voice was laced with approval.

The child smiled, the expression reaching her soft brown eyes and making them sparkle. “Are you going to keep training them?”

“I am, though some days it will be Earc working with them.”

Brigit seemed to think this over for a moment and then she gave a tiny approving jerk of her head. “He’s almost as strong as you.”

“You think so?” Sabrine teased Brigit. “It is hard to believe anyone is as big as your laird.”

“Oh, he’s not, just
almost
,” Brigit said solemnly.

But Barr’s eyes were now fixed on Sabrine. “You find me overlarge?” Seductive and rich, his tone touched her in her very core.

For the first time in memory, she found herself unable to utter a word as images of his full nakedness flashed in her mind’s eye.

“Certainly, I would not call you small,” she managed to force out with some semblance of calm.

“Our laird is bigger than any other warrior in the Highlands.” Brigit’s absolute delight in that fact shone through her face and voice.

“Except my twin brother.”

“You have a twin?” Brigit asked with awe.

There were two of them? The thought made Sabrine light-headed.

“Aye, Niall replaced me as second to the Sinclair when I left.”

“Is he as handsome as you?” Brigit asked and then blushed.

“Though he has a fierce scar from battle, the one he loves thinks he is more handsome than me and that is all that matters.”

Brigit’s wide-eyed stare declared her fascination.

“When we were much younger, our clan was betrayed by one who should have protected us with her life.”

“So you think women can be warriors, too?” Brigit asked with awe.

“Nay, but they should know how to fight for their clan if necessary and protect themselves.”

While Sabrine did not agree with the first part of his statement, Barr’s thinking was more forward than the man who had led this clan before him.

“Will you be teaching the women?” Brigit asked in a hope-filled tone.

Before Barr could answer a knock sounded at the door.

“Come.”

The door swung open and Verica entered, followed closely by a dark-haired warrior who looked near to an age of Barr. He was almost as big as the laird, and his countenance was nearly as fierce as well. They were not men she would willingly go up against; perhaps Rowland would be as wise.

Another, much younger man was behind him. This youth’s resemblance to Verica was unmistakable. Right down to his black hair with almost burgundy streaks. He was a raven and a double shifter as well.

Sabrine’s thoughts whirled as this near impossibility settled in her knowledge. What strange clan were these Donegals? Certainly, they were far different from anything she had expected, from their new laird to their dual shifters.

She had not known any ravens survived among the Faol. Learning of their existence brought many assumptions her people made into question.

While the boy who must be Circin’s wolf scent surrounded him like a blanket on a cold day, there was no hint of his raven nature in the air around them. Which confirmed one supposition she was almost certain of: the wolves were unaware of the presence of the Éan among them. She scrutinized Circin, looking for some sign of what his special Chrechte gift might be.

Sabrine’s ability to alter the perception of others was not readily apparent to even other ravens. She used it to “hide” her clan markings in the forest with Barr, her blue raven on her back and the dagger under it that represented her role as a protector of her people.

If she
were
to take a mate, a blooming vine would be added to symbolize the hope for their future. She had no plans for that marking to ever be inked into her skin.

Circin was looking at her just as closely, while the man that must be Earc had his attention fixed on Verica.

The healer was doing her best to pretend she did not notice, but the connection between the two of them may as well have been a bright red ribbon, it was so obvious.

“You wished to see us, laird?” Circin asked, his voice still showing signs of his youth.

“I did.” Barr’s gaze dropped to Brigit. “I have a concern regarding Sorcha. You, Earc and Verica will spend the night in her cottage. Tomorrow, I will have answers to my questions.”

“Am I right in assuming there are to be no other visitors this night?” Earc asked, his voice deep and tinged with curiosity.

“Aye.”

Brigit was staring at her laird in wide-eyed shock. “
The healer
is to sleep in
our
home this night?” Obviously, the girl’s hero-worship was not limited to her new laird.

“That is right.”

“But what if
he
gets angry?” It was the closest Brigit had come to naming her mother’s tormentor or firmly acknowledging his existence.

“Who are you frightened of?” Verica asked and then looked like she wished she’d kept her mouth closed.

Brigit’s agitation spiked in the air around them and Sabrine simply could not stand it any longer. “Come here, young one.”

Without hesitating, the girl came and climbed to sit beside Sabrine on the bed.

Sabrine took her hand, projecting a warm light around them the others would not see. Brigit’s eyes rounded.

“Is there any warrior in this clan who could defeat Earc, do you think?”

“Only our laird.”

“But he is not the one who causes your distress?”

Brigit shook her head vehemently.

“Then you have naught to fear this night.”

“But what about tomorrow?”

“You must trust your laird to have considered the morrow.” Sabrine sincerely hoped her confidence in the giant man was not misplaced.

And then Barr was there, laying his big hand on the small girl’s back. “I willna allow any to hurt your dam.”

“She didna want me to tell anyone.” Tears were close to the surface in the girl’s voice and the trembling of her lip.

“Aye, and you’ve told us naught, but your innocent question. Your dam will not blame you.”

“I promised.”

“You’ve broken no promise.” Barr’s gentle demeanor with the child touched Sabrine’s soul.

How could this man be the alpha of the pack that had stolen the ravens’ sacred talisman?

“You will still go for a walk in the forest with us tomorrow?” Brigit asked Sabrine anxiously.

“I will.”

“You’ll not be leaving this bed.” Barr’s tone carried the weight of his position as laird and pack leader.

She ignored it. “I will.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You are wounded.” He sounded like he was trying to be reasonable and could not understand her recalcitrance.

“It is not so great I must languish in bed.” Allowing him to believe she was a helpless human was one thing, but having him believe she needed to be bedridden defeated her purpose of searching for the Heart of the Moon stone.

Instead of arguing with her as she expected, Barr gave her a calculated look laced with a good deal of heat.

Just when she realized it might have been a tad precipitous to argue her relative good health just before spending the night under his watch, Earc said, “I believe it is time we took our leave.”

No doubt the other wolf could smell Barr’s increasing level of arousal just like she could. How embarrassing. She’d never been in such a situation before. Other males had wanted her, but not with the level of desire clouding the air around them so thickly she was surprised they could not see it. But the worst part was not how his wolf was reacting to her. It was how
she
was responding to him.

Her arousal drifted in the air around them as well, defying even the sick feeling she had about Brigit’s mother’s apparent predicament.

Earc’s lips twitched and Sabrine knew he could scent her arousal as well as his laird’s. She glared at him.

Barr’s second gave her a startled look.

“You need not rush off,” she insisted.

“Oh, I think there is every need.”

Circin seemed vaguely embarrassed while his sister gave Sabrine a commiserating look. “If we do not return Brigit to her mother soon, Sorcha will worry.”

Knowing when defeat loomed, Sabrine inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Then you must go.”

“There is no need to sound like they are leaving you to a horrific fate. My care may not have the skill of the healer, but you will be safe from others this night.”

She noted he did not promise she would be safe from him. The man might be a scoundrel, planning things she had never done but could guess at all too easily. However, he was no liar.

Sabrine turned her attention to the child. “All will be well. You must trust in this.”

“I will try.”

Sabrine nodded and reached for the child with an instinct that superseded even her Chrechte nature. Brigit accepted a tight hug, returning it fiercely before climbing off the bed to join Verica, Earc and Circin at the door.

They left with quiet assurances of Sorcha’s welfare this night and last-minute instructions from Verica to Barr regarding Sabrine’s care.

Sabrine knew the other woman had tried, but she doubted those final words would protect her from Barr’s passion. Not when hers simmered right at the surface, waiting to boil over and join his.

 

 

B
arr had never been so sorely tempted by a woman before.

While he had not always agreed with Talorc’s strict stance on physical mating, neither did he see it as something to be indulged in for the sake of nothing more than a few hours of temporary pleasure. Joining his body with another carried the weight of possibly true bonding, and that was not a risk to be dismissed lightly. He had been more than lucky his first foray into sexual intimacy had not led to the tie forming; bad enough it had cost him two dear friends.

His fellow warrior’s possessiveness of his true bond mate had made continued friendship impossible between him and Barr once he learned she had surrendered her virginity to the other man. As for the woman, neither she nor Barr had been comfortable in one another’s presence again after the debacle of that one coupling.

Once a Chrechte developed a sacred or true bond with his mate, he would become incapable of performing sexually with anyone else while his mate lived. Barr didn’t understand it any better than he did the miracle of his animal form and nature. He knew the truth of it, however, and had been sexually circumspect because of it.

Only a fool would not realize the strong reaction he had to Sabrine could well lead to a sacred mate bond. And Barr was far from being a fool. His wolf was drawn to the mysterious raven-haired woman in a way it had never been to another person.

In the usual way of things, he would take time to get to know the woman his wolf was so intent upon having. He would carefully consider whether she would make a suitable mate before acting on his baser urges. But this was no ordinary reaction.

His wolf was demanding instant action and his body’s cravings were making that demand near impossible to ignore.

The wolf howled for release, Barr’s libido ached with need and his mind fought them both. Still looking for an explanation of the sense of
other
he could not dismiss from his memory, his brain worried at this problem as well. How could she lie to him and he not smell it? For lie to him he was certain she had.

His beautiful, alluring Sabrine had no more lost her memory than he had. What her game was, he couldna fathom, but it was clear she’d been genuinely distressed about whatever was going on with Brigit’s mother, Sorcha.

Sabrine’s obvious compassion only made Barr desire her more, but her equally apparent deception prevented him from trusting her completely.

Could he bed a woman he did not trust? His wolf howled, “Yes.” His cock jerked in response and he was no closer to resolution of his inner conflict than before.

“You look like you are contemplating invading England, but you smell like you want to invade me.” Naught in her tone revealed what she felt about that, but the words themselves revealed much.

And he knew. He did not understand, but he knew it must be true. “You are Chrechte, but you hide your wolf nature so well, even I could not sense it.”

“I am no part of the Faol.” The loathing with which she spoke the word
Faol
left no room for doubt.

Yet . . . “You must be. You are no mere human.”

“Humans have their own strength.”

“Yes, they do, but
you
are Chrechte.”

She did not deny it, but her mouth set in a stubborn line that told him without words she would not answer.

“And you haven’t forgotten anything, except perhaps how to tell the truth.”

That should be all he needed to rein in his libido, but her stubbornness and equally undeniable strength laid waste to the last of his defenses. This woman was his match.

Eyes the color of warm earth rich with sustenance narrowed dangerously. “You call me a liar?”

“Nay.” He’d learned from Talorc’s mistakes with his wife and Barr would not make such an accusation without understanding the entirety of a situation.

He would not soon forget the result of Talorc’s idiocy with his own wife. His friend had expressed deep sorrow and regret to Barr since then, but naught could undo the memory for any of them.

“I do not call you a liar, but I do believe you hide the truth from me.”

Her frown turned lethal, but she remained mute and unmoving.

“You do not lie by nature, do you?”

“No.” The word held an entire hour’s discourse of meaning.

“You find it beyond you to heap one lie on top of another to protect the first,” he further postulated.

“If I was lying, you should be able to tell, being the superior Chrechte warrior that you are.”