Una stood in shock, terror coursing through her like fire in her veins, burning away reason, destroying the façade of peace she had worked so hard to foster for the past five years.
Her eagle screamed to be released. She wanted to take to the skies and fly as far as her wings could carry her until the sun sank over the waters and the moon rose and set again in the sky.
The high priestess, Anya Gra, smiled on the assembled Éan like she had not just made a pronouncement that could well spell their doom.
Faol were coming here? To the forest of the Éan? To their homeland kept secret for generations. For very good reason.
Reason Una had learned to appreciate to the very marrow of her bones five years before.
“No,” she whispered into air laden with smoke from the feast’s cooking fires. “This cannot be.”
Other noises of dissent sounded around her, but her mind could not take them in. It was too busy replaying images she’d tried to bury under years of proper and obedient behavior. Years of not taking chances and staying far away from the human clans that had once intrigued her so.
She’d even avoided Lais, one of the few other eagle shifters among her people. Because he’d come from the outside. From the clan of the Donegal, the clan that spawned devils who called themselves men.
She’d not spoken to him once in the three years he’d lived among their people.
The grumbling around Una grew to such a level, even her own tormented thoughts could not keep it out.
For the first time in her memory, the Éan of their tribe looked on their high priestess with disfavor. Many outright glared at the woman whose face might be lined with age, but maintained a translucent beauty that proclaimed her both princess and spiritual leader.
Others were yelling their displeasure toward the prince of the people, but their monarch let no emotion show on his handsome though young features. He merely looked on, his expression stoic, his thoughts hidden behind his amber gaze.
The dissension grew more heated. This was unheard of. In any other circumstance, Una would have been appalled by the behavior of her fellow Chrechte, but not this day.
She hoped beyond hope that the anger and dissent would sway their leaders toward reason.
“Enough!” The prince’s sudden bellow was loud and commanding despite the fact he was only a few summers older than Una.
Silence fell like the blacksmith’s anvil.
Emotion showed now, his amber eyes glowing like the sacred stone during a ceremony. “We have had the Faol among us on many occasions these past three years.”
Those wolves had only come to visit. Una, and many like her—justifiably frightened by the race that had done so much to eradicate their own, had stayed away from the visitors. She’d avoided all contact and had not even stolen so much as a peek at any of them.
Not like when she was younger and let her curiosity rule her common sense.
But Anya Gra said these ones, these emissaries from the Sinclair, Balmoral and Donegal clans, would live among the Éan for the foreseeable future.
Live. Among. Them. With no end in sight.
Una’s breath grew shorter as panic clawed at her insides with the sharpness of her eagle’s talons.
“It is time the Chrechte brethren are reunited.” Prince Eirik’s tone brooked no argument. “It has been foretold that this is the only chance for our people to survive as a race. Do you suddenly doubt the visions of your high priestess?”
Many shook their head, but not Una. Because for the first time in her life, she did doubt the wisdom of the woman who had led their people spiritually since before Una was born.
“Emissaries are coming to live among us, to learn our ways and teach us the way of the Faol.” This time it was another of the royal family who spoke, the head healer. “We will all benefit.”
“We know the way of the Faol,” one brave soul shouted out. “They kill, maim and destroy the Éan. That is the way of the Faol.”
“Not these wolves. The Balmoral, the Sinclair and the Donegal lairds are as committed to keeping our people safe as I am.” The prince’s tone rang with sincerity.
The man believed his own words. That was clear.
But Una couldn’t bring herself to do so. No wolf would ever care for the Éan as a true brother. It was not in their violent, often sadistic and deceitful natures.
“It is only a few among the Faol today who would harm our people. Far more would see us joined with the clans for our safety and all our advantage.”