him to fight. He still has a lot to learn.”
Lais glared at Barr.
“Though his strength with a bow has been lauded to me by his relatives.” The significance of this statement was not lost on Sabrine.
“It was you. But why?” Why would a bird shifter try to kill Barr, a wolf who so clearly stood for what was good and honorable among the Faol? And her, one of his own people?
The very idea went through her heart like a poison-tipped spear. Knees going weak, she stumbled back a little, almost tripping on the bag with the Clach Gealach Gra.
He would have taken it and done what? Kept it for himself? To what purpose?
Her throat so tight she could not speak, she simply stared at the young man who would destroy his own people.
“Sweeting . . .” Barr spoke softly as if to an easily startled animal.
She let her gaze shift to him. The warmth and compassion she saw in his eyes were very near her undoing.
She had spent her entire life knowing she and all her brethren were hated by the Faol, but to be so despised by one of their own? That was a gaping, bleeding wound in her soul.
“My precious warrior princess—”
“I’m not.”
“What?” he asked, oh so gently.
“A princess. I renounced my claim to the throne.”
Barr’s eyes widened.
“You’re nothing but a murdering raven.” Bone-deep loathing infused every word out of Lais’s mouth.
She would not look at him. This kind of hatred was too hard to take. “Ravens cannot murder, unless their nature has become so twisted, their bird no longer has the power to influence emotions and thought.”
“Liar.”
The sound of a blow being struck sounded. Lais oophed and fell to the ground with a thump.
Barr’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Sabrine, my own, please put your shift on.”
The mundane request almost made her laugh, but she was afraid if she started, she would not stop until it ended in hysterical tears.
“Your possessiveness is showing. We are Chrechte.”
“I am possessive.” He did not sound sorry at all.
And she did not mind. She would much rather think about her mate’s unreasonable dislike of nakedness. He’d been quick to cover her in front of Muin that first day in the forest, too.
She looked around and found her shift, pulling it on quickly. Though it made no sense to her, she felt better with this small barrier between her and the eagle shifter.
She was Chrechte, but maybe more human than she had ever realized.
She looked at Barr. “Better?”
“Aye.” He smiled, though his eyes still reflected that tender concern.
She made herself turn and face Lais. “Ravens do not murder. I have never killed except in protection of my people.”
“Ravens killed my father, the last eagle shifter.”
Chapter 21
Something snapped inside Sabrine and she stormed over to the puling hatchling. She was so tired of the deceptions, so sickened by Rowland’s legacy in a clan made up of truly, mostly good people and the Chrechte intent on protecting them. “You idiot. First, your father was not the last eagle shifter, though if you’d succeeded in stealing the Clach Gealach Gra, a generation from now would see the end of the entire Éan race.”
“Good. The ravens deserve to die. They’ve been tormenting the other Chrechte for hundreds of years.”
“Where did you hear such stupidity?” As if she didn’t know. “And I didn’t just say ravens. You would have succeeded in ending the eagle shifters, of whom there are not many, but who do still exist in freedom in the forest. You who should fight for your people’s existence would have done what the hateful among the Faol had failed to do, though they have tried for more than two centuries.”
“The Faol tried to protect my father.” But the youth’s voice faltered with lack of conviction.
Barr demanded, “What wolf tried to protect him and failed?”
“Rowland.” Lais’s shoulders drooped, his gaze dropping as if he knew already how unutterably foolish he had been to trust the former laird.
Barr snorted derisively. “The same man who raped your aunt was your father’s would-be savior? The same man who nearly destroyed the clan with his selfishness? You hid your nature from him, didn’t you?”
The boy nodded, his sadness and confusion even more evident.
“You sensed it was not safe to tell him of your nature.”
“It made no difference. I cannot pass it on.”
“You missed your coming of age ceremony?” Sabrine asked in pained tones.
Lais nodded. “My father told me about it, about how wonderful it would be, what gifts it might bestow,