Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,30

and she smoothed her hand down Brigit’s hair. “Don’t be scared. He’s not as frightening as he looks.”

Earc released a growl to let her know he was not amused. He’d wanted her to comfort the child over her mother’s clear upset; there was no need to reassure her about Earc.

He was not the problem here.

Though the way Sorcha looked at him said otherwise.

“But I’ve no need for a guard.” The lie was a rancid thing in the air around them, mixing with her desperation, making his hackles rise.

Verica put her hand on the lovely widow’s arm, the healer’s expression compassionate but firm. “We both know that’s not true, I think.”

Sorcha’s gaze slid to her daughter as she hugged herself. “What has Brigit been saying?” Her tone held no accusation, nor any anger; instead it was laced with fear and sadness.

“I didn’t say anything, Mum. I didn’t.”

Sorcha pulled her daughter to her, hugging her tight. “It’s all right, sweeting. I am not angry.”

“But I didn’t break my promise.”

“Indeed, she did not,” Verica affirmed. “But the fact something is very wrong has become apparent.”

Sorcha’s gaze darted to the door of the cottage, her agitation showing in the shallowness of her breathing. “Her da is dead, that is problem enough.”

“Aye, it is, and how he came to die is no doubt part of it.”

Sorcha released her daughter and gave Earc a worried look. “He was ravaged by a wild beast when he was hunting.”

Her attempt at lying was so poor, Earc winced. Clearly, the woman believed her husband had died in some other fashion.

She frowned at him. “You doubt my word?”

“Yes.”

Sorcha gasped, her face draining of color.

Verica pulled the other woman into a comforting embrace. “Do not worry yourself so. You are safe and will remain so.” The scowl she sent Earc would be worthy of any soldier. “Earc did not mean to say he thinks you are lying.”

“Yes, I did.” And the female wolf knew it. Why was she dissembling to the human?

Verica let go of Sorcha and marched over to Earc. “Be so kind as to step outside with me.” The words barely made it past her clenched teeth.

Damned if she was not twice as appealing angry.

“Barr said we were to stay with the woman,” he reminded Verica.

“The woman has a name. Sorcha.”

Did she think he’d forgotten? “I know.”

Verica’s fists landed on her hips and her ire increased until it made Earc’s blood pound—though with an entirely different emotion.

“Then do her the courtesy of using it when you refer to her,” Verica snapped.

He bowed his head toward Sorcha. “It was not my intention to offend.”

She stared between him and Verica with wide eyes very much like her daughter’s. “I’m not offended.”

He nodded and gave Verica his most patient look. “You see? I did not offend Sorcha.”

“You offended me.”

“I won’t win this argument, will I?”

“No.”

“Are you going to remain angry?” He’d hoped his laird’s assignment would give Earc an opportunity to talk with her.

With her multicolored hair unlike any he had seen on a woman, Chrechte or otherwise, and her curious mixture of compassion and fiery temper, the healer had fascinated him since his arrival to the Donegal holding.

“Are you going to continue acting like an arrogant warrior with no sense of tact?”

“Is that how I’ve been acting?” Were warriors supposed to be polite weaklings in her mind?

“Yes.”

“Then, probably.”

Circin barked out a laugh and Earc turned to him. The youth quickly clamped his jaw shut, but humor lurked in his eyes.

“I will remember your laughter tomorrow during training.”

Circin blanched with satisfying speed, but his beautiful sister made the sound of a pot boiling over. “You dare to threaten my brother? Do you forget that one day he will be your laird?”

“He’ll never be my laird,” Earc informed her with absolute certainty.

“Barr promised he would relinquish the clan leadership on or before Circin’s twenty-fifth year. Do you say he lied?” She was determined to make him angry.

But he would not be drawn. “My leader would never lie, even to get a harping female over her unjustified upset.”

“Did you just call me a harpy?”

The air around them simmered with her fury. It was a welcome change over Sorcha’s fear. Even the cook seemed more intent on the exchange between them than her own predicament at the moment.

“I believe the point here is that Earc does not intend to stay with the Donegal clan after his friend steps down from his role as laird,” Circin inserted before Earc could answer.

Verica stiffened and turned an unreadable