Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,38

shut.” Not an ounce of sympathy sounded in Barr’s tone.

“I refuse. I’ll leave the clan,” he said as if making a great concession. “But I won’t fight two giants like yourselves.”

“Your actions and attitude show you as a threat to this clan and your behavior toward Sorcha breaks pack law. Banishment is not an option.”

“Pack law does not apply to humans.”

“When you live among them, it does.”

“That is absurd. They are as nothing compared to us.”

Barr turned to face Sorcha. “Can I assume from his free use of the distinction between humans and himself that Rowland has revealed aspects of his nature unknown to the rest of the clan?” Even in his interrogation, Barr was careful not to reveal secrets of their people.

Sorcha nodded, the sour smell of her sweat attesting to her continued fear.

“What did he tell you?”

“He—”

“Keep your mouth shut, slut! You know what will happen if you don’t.”

Barr moved so quickly, none but Earc probably saw him reach out and backhand the grizzled Chrechte so hard, he flew backward, landing against the wall so hard the cottage shook. “Speak out of turn again and I will gag you.”

Barr approached the now visibly shaking Sorcha. “You have naught to fear from him any longer.”

Sorcha nodded, her eyes wide and filled with tears she valiantly blinked back. “He can become a wolf.”

“He told you this?” Barr asked.

Sorcha shook her head. “He showed me. He said if I did not do what he wanted, he would rend Brigit limb from limb as he had done my husband.” Each word came out labored and halting, a sob snaking past her tightly clenched lips after she was finished speaking.

Verica reached out and squeezed Sorcha’s hand. “Never again.”

Sorcha looked at Barr with near-hopeless despair. “You’ll never win in battle against him.”

“I killed my first wild boar on a hunt when I was eight; this wolf man holds no fear for me.”

Since the Chrechte did not go through their first change until hair began to grow on other places than their heads, this was an impressive feat.

Earc could match it, adding one year.

He looked at Rowland with contempt. “You’ll not make it past the first challenge.”

“I apologize,” Rowland said quickly, though the words were clearly sour in his mouth.

“Are you satisfied to withdraw your challenge?” Barr asked Earc.

Earc turned to Verica and repeated the question to her. She looked at him with too many emotions for him to name, but predominant was that old grief he had noticed the night before. “I’m not. He does not mean the words.”

“What do you want? Me to debase myself before the whole clan?”

“Yes. If you apologize more politely to me before the soldiers in the hall over nooning meal, I will accept your words.” There was something in her expression that said she knew without doubt the older Chrechte would never accept those terms.

Rowland shook with bitter fury, the power of a very strong wolf right under the surface. “I’ll do no such thing, you worthless bitch daughter of a filthy raven.”

Verica’s gaze shot to Earc’s, a new emotion overriding every other. Fear.

He did not know what caused it, but it did not matter. He smiled at her; he’d claimed her as his mate. She might not understand what that meant yet, but she would learn. He would always protect her. From anything.

He turned back to the bastard causing his new mate such distress. “We will meet in the forest in thirty minutes’ time. If you do not come, I will hunt you down and end your miserable existence without hesitation.”

Rowland finally had pulled together enough thought to be truly afraid; it showed in the panicked whites of his eyes. But it was too late.

Barr looked at Circin. “Assemble the Chrechte in the clearing near the small loch. All of them. Any who refuse to show will be considered outcasts from this day forward.”

“You cannot do this. The king guaranteed me my place in the clan,” Rowland tried one last time.

Barr was unmoved. “And your actions have destroyed the gift he gave you.”

“You think you’ve won, but you’ll see. No one wins over me.” Spittle flew from the man’s mouth as he screamed those words and then rushed from the cottage.

“You daft man,” Sorcha said and then gasped and closed her mouth so tight her lips disappeared.

“You do not think I can best him in a challenge?” But then Earc chastised himself. Of course she wouldn’t. She did not know he had a wolf living inside him,