Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,70
her to disagree with him.
“I became a warrior after my parents were murdered by the wolves you would call friend.”
“I never called Rowland friend and well you know it. None that I call friend would hunt another Chrechte without cause.”
“They believe they have cause.”
“Why?”
“That is not my question to answer.”
“You know more than I do of this unacceptable feud. Tell me what you know.”
She found she could not deny him. “They despise the raven for being a carrion bird, or so I have heard. But they kill the eagle among us as well, so who is to say why they truly wish us gone?”
He thought for a moment, as if contemplating that very thing. As if he thought she truly wanted an answer.
When in fact the why had ceased to matter a long time ago.
He shrugged his magnificent shoulders, drawing attention to the naked body he found so comfortable. Despite their argument and the way her rejection of his wolf had hurt him, his member was thickened and almost erect.
She yanked her gaze from his manhood, but not before his quirked lips told her he had noticed her interest.
She frowned.
He winked and then sobered. “Mayhap they fear you.”
She remembered the look on Wirp’s face at the wedding when she gave him the image of her ancestor the dragon to gaze upon and thought perhaps Barr had the right of it, but then again, maybe not. “All Chrechte have more to fear from humans, who outnumber our kind so vastly we must hide among them.”
“Aye, but the special gifts the Éan have because of their Chrechte nature are a thing that might inspire envy and envy can move to hate with the blink of an eye.”
“So, you understand these murderers who would continue the decimation of my people until we are gone?”
Barr’s eyes darkened and he shifted closer until she could feel the heat of his body. “I dinna say that. I merely speculated the reason behind their hatred might well be envy and fear, no matter what they claim to the contrary.”
Despite herself, she nodded. She’d long suspected that to be the case, but the claims made by the Faol that the Éan were not worthy to be Chrechte had long plagued her people.
Barr’s hands settled on her shoulders. “You canna hate my wolf. He is a part of me.”
And the arrogant man was so sure she could not hate him. Of course, against all expectations in her own heart and from any who might know her, she didn’t hate the wolf laird. In point of fact, she was well on her way to being irrevocably in love with him.
An emotion that could only lead to more pain for her and yet one she had no hope of denying.
“A wolf and a raven can only mate in their human forms; I think that means something.”
His hands landed on her shoulders, the intent to hold her unmistakable. “It means we are magical beings with two forms and destined for a future together as life mates.”
“A wolf and a raven cannot mate for life; it never ends well.” He needed to understand. This connection between them could not last. It simply could not.
“Perhaps that is true of the past, but the Chrechte no longer dwell in caves and unreasonable hatreds have no place in our new life among the clans.”
“Tell that to this raven.” She tossed the final feather in the flames, speaking the death blessing.
Barr’s voice joined hers and Chrechte power sparked in the air around them. Wind that had no origin rushed through the room, taking the smoke up through the chimney in a whoosh.
Barr spoke a final blessing on the Chrechte that had gone before pricking his finger with his knife and sprinkling a drop of his own blood on the fire in an ancient offering most humans among them would not understand. “Rowland is gone along with those he sent to an early grave.”
“But his cronies still live among the Donegals.” She had to make him see how impossible any future together among this clan would be. Taking him to her people was equally impossible. Barr would never be accepted among them because of his wolf. “Shifters like Verica still hide their raven natures. Warriors like your Muin are still taught to kill ravens in the sky even though they do not know the Éan exist. You are a fool to believe so much has changed.”
Though she could wish it were not the case.
“I am no fool.”
She simply