her annoyance. He did not believe she could do him damage when she had been defending her people from the Faol since her fifteenth summer.
She did not allow her eyes to narrow or her heart to accelerate. She kept her breathing normal, pretending to drop her fighting stance.
She curtsied. “Laird.”
The other women around her followed her example, though the scent of shock at his appearance was like burning sulfur around them. Sharp and acrid.
Barr smiled, white teeth baring with a hint of his wolf despite his full human form. “Ladies.”
And Sabrine struck. Hiking her skirts, she spun and leapt, landing a kick right on his sternum. She’d put her whole body and momentum behind it and his guard was down.
Barr was a giant among men, but he was not impervious and he went down, surprise and mild pain crossing his face. He recovered quickly though. Going with the momentum, he flipped over backward and came smoothly to his feet.
His stance on the ready, a ridiculous grin creased his face. “That was sneaky.”
“How good of you to notice.” She allowed her skirts to drop and brushed her hands as if dusting them off.
“I dinna think the others will expose their bare legs to defend themselves though.”
“You would be surprised at what a woman will do when her child is at risk.” Her own mother had sent Sabrine running for the haven of their people, while she, a trained healer, not warrior, had joined her mate to fight the Faol that stalked them.
Barr nodded, his eyes filled with an understanding that could be naught but her imagination.
“She attacked the laird,” someone whispered.
Her frustration mounting, Sabrine frowned. These women needed to realize that even if it was their laird putting them at risk, they must fight back. The clanswomen were so different than the females among the Éan, and yet Sabrine felt a growing kinship with them.
It worried her.
“I merely sought to show you that what you have learned thus far is not without its uses.”
“’Twas not a real attack,” Barr said dismissively.
Preparing to take umbrage, Sabrine opened her mouth to speak, but Earc, who had managed to arrive in the clearing with as little forewarning as Barr, halted her. “Aye, if she’d meant to hurt him, our laird would be bleeding.” The two wolves had masked their scent and moved in such silence, she had not known they were near until Barr had put his hand on her waist. Not for the first time, she was thankful the Faol that still hunted the Éan did not have her mate’s prowess. “Our mysterious woman of the forest was merely proving a point.”
She got the distinct impression that Earc knew the point had been directed more toward Barr than the women.
Barr’s nod of agreement went a long way toward appeasing her ruffled feathers. The gentle brush of his hand down the back of her head and nape finished it.
Her raven preened under the much-craved attention, and it was all Sabrine could do not to let it show in her manner. From the very beginning, Barr had seemed to instinctively know what her raven needed, even as he fulfilled her every human desire as well.
The other women in the clearing were still staring at them in horrified silence (whether at their laird’s public familiarity or Sabrine’s strike at him was a matter for debate) when Verica asked, “Is aught wrong?”
“Nay.” Barr looked around at each of the women, making eye contact in that special way that told each one he truly saw her as only an alpha could do. “We thought we would come and help you train for a wee bit today.”
“You are going to train us?” Verica asked, her eyes rounder than the full moon.
“Nay. I am going to help Sabrine.”
Earc said, “I also.”
“We cannot train with men,” one of the human clanswomen said in purely outraged tones.
“How can you know you are able to defend yourselves against men, unless you practice with them?” Sabrine countered, once again frustrated by the clanswomen’s overdeveloped sense of propriety.
“It is not seemly,” another said, her scent turning sour with disapproval in less than a heartbeat.
“What are you? English?” Barr demanded, letting disgust lace his deep warrior’s voice. “We are of the Highland clans. We submit to the king on our own choosing and we dinna follow the ways of the Sassenach.”
The other women stood taller, giving the two who had spoken frowns. About ten of the women from the clan had wanted to learn how to