Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,46

easily as big as Barr with a wild look in his canine eyes that would make most Chrechte pause before facing him in battle. Earc was not most Chrechte, nor was Barr. One day, God willing, they would train the Donegal Chrechte to be such soldiers.

Rowland’s fast change and leap showed he was still as agile as many a younger canine as well. Not that it would do him any good.

The action, while impressive, was a dirty trick. Though not strictly against the rules of combat, it bordered on breaking them. Barr’s jaw went rigid, but he checked his initial instinct, at the blatant show of disrespect, to shift and tear the wolf’s throat out.

Earc would handle the challenge without a problem, Barr was confident. His confidence proved true when Rowland’s lack of honor bought the former laird nothing.

Earc was ready for the powerful beast, deflecting him with a well-timed shove to the wolf’s chest, sending the huge beast tumbling. Rowland rolled onto his feet, snarling and showing a set of sharp teeth, spit flying as he tossed his head.

Earc grinned and mocked, “Am I supposed to be impressed, you ugly son of a bitch?”

The wolf sprang again, but Earc wasn’t giving the beast any openings, and this time he swiped at the wolf’s flank with his dagger as he twisted out of the way.

Talorc had taught them to weaken a wolf with blood loss before moving in for the kill. To go in for the final blow too early was to risk sustaining an injury that might well lead to a soldier’s lingering death after a fight was long over. Especially if the fight was far from the full moon and the Chrechte did not have control of his change. Shifting would not heal a wound, but it helped make sure the wound healed well and did not get infected.

He did not understand the why of it, but assumed it had to do with the same magic that brought the change over a wolf’s body to begin with.

Earc was following their former laird’s instructions with flawless follow-through in this battle. He avoided going down under Rowland’s repeated attacks, wounding the wolf on each pass. Despite snapping again and again, Rowland’s powerful jaws never closed on any part of Earc’s body. It was clear the massive wolf was tiring, but he was growing more and more enraged as well.

That could be dangerous.

Furious fighters were sloppy, but they were also unpredictable.

Rowland managed a swipe along Earc’s chest with his claws and the scent of his foe’s blood seemed to send him into a frenzy. He went after Earc with renewed vigor, making sounds Barr had never heard from a wolf for all the battles he had fought in. Rowland’s wolf was crazed with bloodlust and a bitter fury that stank like spoiled meat.

Once again, Earc showed his superior training because he was ready for the wolf’s flurried attack, even though Barr was sure he’d never met an opponent so infected with bloodlust.

Earc used the beast’s momentum to send him tumbling again, but this time he followed, landing on the self-admitted murderer and straddling the mighty wolf’s body. Rowland had been weakened by blood loss, but was strengthened by battle frenzy beyond a normal wolf’s strength. Even that of a Chrechte.

Earc refused to be unseated, however, keeping the wolf’s strong jaws away from his more vulnerable skin.

Bringing his knife down in a powerful arc, Earc stabbed straight through to the heart, killing the wolf instantly.

Stunned silence permeated the clearing. None moved. None spoke. Disbelief was a living entity among them. Into this utter quiet a loud, triumphant raven’s caw sounded over the shocked gathering. Barr realized that if Sabrine had disobeyed him, she’d no doubt done it with Verica’s help. The raven was singing her mate’s victory over the man she believed had killed her father.

A raven he had believed to be a wolf. Could one Chrechte pretend the scent of another as they could mask their own? Or was Verica the unthinkable? A woman with not one but two Chrechte forms.

’Twas a question he would have answers to, but later.

Right now was time for establishing his role as pack leader and Earc’s unquestioned position as his second.

Barr tipped his head back and howled. It took a moment, but others joined him. Not Earc though. A Chrechte never took the death of one of his kind lightly, even if he had been forced to do the killing.

While others might make their approval