Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,71

shook her head. She could not answer.

“You are my mate,” he growled as his head lowered.

“I am raven.”

“Mine.” His mouth slammed down on hers, the kiss filled with angry frustration as he repeated the word, Mine, over and over again in her head.

She replied with her own frustration at finding the perfect mate only to have him be wolf, her anger at the unfairness of life that made the Éan live as shades in the forest while their Chrechte brethren lived in their own hiding amongst the humans.

For one brief moment, she gave vent to her truest desires and the dark feelings that knowing they would never bear fruit caused in her heart.

They made love there, in front of the fire, her borrowed plaid their only cushion against the hard floor. And she did not care. The rest of the keep slept while she and Barr claimed each other in a ritual as old as time.

The next day, Sabrine began training the women to defend themselves. She took them to a clearing in the forest, far enough from the keep that the women did not need to worry about being watched by curious children and amused warriors. Looking like a woman quite pleased with her new mating, Verica joined them.

She brought along her grandmother’s weapons and offered them to Sabrine to use in her teaching.

Sabrine ran a loving hand along the blades but shook her head. “You must learn to defend yourselves without weapons other than the dirk most of you carry for eating and preparing food.”

“You can teach those of us who wish to learn to use the bow and sword later, can’t you?” one young Chrechte female asked.

“If I am here.”

The knowing looks Sabrine got from the other women did nothing for her temper and she pushed them hard to learn basic hand-to-hand fighting techniques she had known before she was old enough to have her own dirk, much less a proper dagger.

Over the next days, Sabrine spent time each afternoon training a handful of the clanswomen in the arts of female warfare. Though they would have been greatly indignant had they realized it. They saw the lessons strictly in terms of defending themselves and their families.

The fact so many were willing to join her and Verica in the forest each afternoon said much about what had been happening in their clan over the past years.

Sabrine did want to help the clanswomen, but she also did not lose sight of her primary reason for being among them. She searched diligently for the Clach Gealach Gra but had found not so much as a hint to its whereabouts. Her sense of desperation grew daily as her younger brother’s coming of age ceremony grew closer and she could not lay hands on the necessary sacred artifact.

Her days were not limited to the women and searching though. Barr had very definite ideas about how mates behaved and they seemed to include copious amounts of sexual intimacy.

Barr did not limit his lovemaking to the nights, but would spirit her off to his bedchamber in the middle of the day without compunction. Sabrine found it all too easy to justify acquiescence. Her continued freedom to move within the keep and beyond was made easier by her obvious relationship with Barr.

Some of the clanswomen gave her askance looks, muttering about strange women found in the forest that were no better than they should be. She did not allow the gossiping to touch her.

She was far too happy. As long as she could ignore the looming future, Sabrine reveled in more joy than she’d ever known.

For the first time since her parents’ death, she had friends who were not fellow warriors. She had someone to call her own, a mate who belonged to her—even if temporarily—in a way he did not belong to anyone else in the clan. It had been so long since she had such a connection, she had forgotten the deep contentment it brought.

And that contentment was coupled with indescribable pleasure in her relationship with Barr.

For the first time since she had completed her initial training, Sabrine’s days and nights were not filled with patrolling the skies and watching for any enemies encroaching on the deep forest where the Éan made their homes.

She’d forgotten what it was like to sit with a family for the evening meal, but that was what it felt like to share Barr’s table with Verica and Earc. Even Padraig and the priest had become dear to her,