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.”
“My senses say one thing, but my instincts another.” And how was that possible, he wondered.
“You trust your instincts over your wolf’s senses?”
“In this instance? I do.” For, while his wolf could not smell the lie, it paced restlessly inside him, sure not all was as it seemed. Those same instincts told him to claim her, too. And he would not deny them.
He approached the bed, his mind settled about one thing at least. He would have her this night.
Chapter 6
Barr came toward the bed like a cat on the prowl, not the wolf that he was, sending a shiver of anticipation touched by nerves through Sabrine’s raven nature. His storm-cloud eyes watched her with the power of the ancient priests that once served their combined peoples. Before the Faol decided the Éan did not deserve to be Chrechte.
The oral histories spoke of those times; they spoke of priests and healers and leaders, but they did not tell the tale of a wolf who could capture a raven with nothing but his gaze.
Nothing to prepare her for meeting Barr of the Donegal clan. No story that might help her know what to do with feelings so powerful they decimated the stronghold of her control and forged desires that would not be denied. No matter that she was absolutely certain that to mate with a wolf would be terrifyingly dangerous.
Her mind screamed warnings as her body prepared itself for the inevitable joining with his wolf. Her mind insisted she not submit, but her body had gone deaf.
For the first time in her life, Sabrine’s mind was not in charge, her vaunted control buried under the burning coals of her desire. Her raven instincts demanded resolution for the need clenching her womb and drawing moisture from her core. Nipples that had never known the pleasure of a lover’s touch beaded into tight buds of near-painful longing.
Muscles that usually tensed in preparation for battle relaxed, allowing her legs to fall open slightly beneath the blanket.
Barr’s nostrils flared as the scent of her arousal permeated the air around them. He pulled the blanket back when he reached the bed. And she let him, making no move to hide her waiting nakedness from his gaze. Her body’s yearning overshadowed any hope she had to pull away from this joining.
He inhaled deeply, his eyes going heavy-lidded. “You want me.”
“Yes.” There was no point denying it to him or herself.
Not when the spicy scent of her need was all around them.
“I’ll have you this night.” The statement was arrogance itself, but something in his tone alerted her to the fact it was meant as a question.
He was seeking her agreement, showing he had more self-control than she. He would stop if she demanded it. She did not think she could.
But she was no meek maiden to suffer his domination. “We will have each other.”
He smiled, the expression feral. “You would have had me believe you a fragile woman, in need of protection.”
“I am.” Not fragile, perhaps, but definitely in need of protection. So were her people, but no Faol, not even this one who showed such concern for a human female’s safety, would offer such.
“Perhaps, but you are Chrechte and strong, though you deny it.”
She’d never denied being Chrechte, not once. Though she’d denied being wolf. She could not make her lips utter a falsehood of such personal affront.
Explaining such would give away secrets she could not allow into the light.
He did not wait for a reply, nor did he seem to expect one. He simply rid himself of his plaid and weapons with short, efficient movements, revealing his magnificent warrior’s body. He might not share his twin’s facial scar, but Barr was by no means unmarked. Along with