Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,9
itself. Which meant that this woman was a wolf-raven dual shifter. The only way that could happen was for one of her parents to have been each.
Horrified by the implication of that knowledge, Sabrine stared in mute shock at the other woman.
Who in turn glared at Barr. “You bellowed?”
“This woman needs a healer.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Do not dare ask such a thing.”
“Why not? Am I supposed to pretend Circin doesn’t seek my services nightly for wounds you inflict?”
“Your brother is to be laird one day; he must be a strong warrior.”
“He’s still a boy.” The tiny woman did not seem in the least intimidated by her oversized laird.
Either she was fearless, stupid or amazingly good at masking the scent of her emotions, a skill the Faol did not share to the same degree as the Éan.
Sabrine decided she was going to like this woman.
“He would not thank you for saying so. A Chrechte who has reached sixteen summers without ever wielding a sword in at least mock battle is a disgrace.”
“Circin is no disgrace!”
“Nay, but his trainers are.”
Something moved in the woman’s face, a flicker of disquiet at the mention of the trainers. “I discouraged Circin from training with the older Chrechte of the clan when he was younger.”
“You will have to explain your reasons for doing so after you see to this woman.”
“This woman’s name is Sabrine, and well you know it, Donegal laird.” Sabrine gave Barr a frown.
He smiled in return. “I wondered if you had lost your voice with your memory.”
“You’ve lost your memory?” Verica demanded and then turned back to Barr. “Why did you not say? An addled brain can be very dangerous. She could appear normal and then simply fall asleep and not wake up.”
Barr let loose another one of those bone-chilling subvocal growls. Both women flinched.
“She will not die.”
Verica nodded as if by saying so, the laird made it so. “Someone must watch her through the night.”
“I will do it.”
“You? But you’re the laird!” For the first time, the wolf-raven woman looked rattled. She’d taken her leader’s nudity in stride, though that was not surprising considering men in the Highlands still battled and hunted in their natural-born state as often as not. “She’s not your mate, is she?”
“I’m no wolf’s mate,” Sabrine said with more certainty than she felt.
Her reactions to the giant Faol were either explained by knocking her head in her fall to the earth or a connection she could never risk acknowledging.
Not only for the safety of her people but for her own safety as well. The Éan would never accept one of their own mated to the enemy.
She could be killed for treachery, but at the very least she would be banished. And her people could not stand the cost of losing her.
Both Donegals gave her varying looks of speculation. Barr’s bordered on confident assurance. Verica’s was tinged with surprise, but she didn’t ask the question shimmering between them.
Instead, she indicated a room across the landing. “Let’s get her lying down.”
Barr started moving, but he didn’t stop at the room his clanswoman had pointed to. He went to the next door and shoved it open.
“You’re claiming her?” Verica asked, managing to sound completely scandalized this time.
Why did people keep asking him that? And he didn’t bother to answer on this occasion, either. And really. Did Verica need to make it sound like Barr could do far better? Sabrine would make a strong mate for any man, even the big laird. If she planned to ever take a mate. Which she didn’t, and especially not a wolf shifter.
Instead of answering for him, like she had with Muin, Sabrine pinched Barr. Good and hard. He could give assurances himself this time.
He jolted and then stared down at her. “What was that for?”
“Answer your clanswoman. Tell her you’re not claiming me.” Sabrine looked at the other woman. “He said he’d watch over me tonight, naturally he’d think to do it here. It’s not necessary, I’m sure.”
“Are you a healer then?” he asked.
An unexpected twinge of old pain pierced her heart. “No.” Had her parents lived, she would have been. Her mother had been a healer, but their deaths led Sabrine to the path of a warrior.
“Verica is and she’s decent. She says you need watching, you’ll be watched.”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you didn’t answer her as I requested.”
“Oh, was that a request? Sounded like an order to me.”
“Perhaps I could have worded my request more tactfully.”
“You could have refrained from