Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,21

showing she knew well how to keep all her secrets.

Where she’d learned the need for such subterfuge hurt Sabrine to consider.

“Aye, lass, I did. They acquitted themselves well, too.”

“They’re my cousins,” Brigit said with pride. “Rowland would not train them but they both want to know how to defend their family.”

Sabrine got the idea the girl was not talking about the greater clan. The expression on Barr’s face said he’d caught the distinction, too, and didn’t like it. Though he did not upbraid the child, nor did he let so much as a frown find its way toward her.

“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