Free Moon Burning by Lucy Monroe Page A

Which confirmed one supposition she was almost certain of: the wolves were unaware of the presence of the Éan among them. She scrutinized Circin, looking for some sign of what his special Chrechte gift might be.
    Sabrine’s ability to alter the perception of others was not readily apparent to even other ravens. She used it to “hide” her clan markings in the forest with Barr, her blue raven on her back and the dagger under it that represented her role as a protector of her people.
    If she were to take a mate, a blooming vine would be added to symbolize the hope for their future. She had no plans for that marking to ever be inked into her skin.
    Circin was looking at her just as closely, while the man that must be Earc had his attention fixed on Verica.
    The healer was doing her best to pretend she did not notice, but the connection between the two of them may as well have been a bright red ribbon, it was so obvious.
    “You wished to see us, laird?” Circin asked, his voice still showing signs of his youth.
    “I did.” Barr’s gaze dropped to Brigit. “I have a concern regarding Sorcha. You, Earc and Verica will spend the night in her cottage. Tomorrow, I will have answers to my questions.”
    “Am I right in assuming there are to be no other visitors this night?” Earc asked, his voice deep and tinged with curiosity.
    “Aye.”
    Brigit was staring at her laird in wide-eyed shock. “ The healer is to sleep in our home this night?” Obviously, the girl’s hero-worship was not limited to her new laird.
    “That is right.”
    “But what if he gets angry?” It was the closest Brigit had come to naming her mother’s tormentor or firmly acknowledging his existence.
    “Who are you frightened of?” Verica asked and then looked like she wished she’d kept her mouth closed.
    Brigit’s agitation spiked in the air around them and Sabrine simply could not stand it any longer. “Come here, young one.”
    Without hesitating, the girl came and climbed to sit beside Sabrine on the bed.
    Sabrine took her hand, projecting a warm light around them the others would not see. Brigit’s eyes rounded.
    “Is there any warrior in this clan who could defeat Earc, do you think?”
    “Only our laird.”
    “But he is not the one who causes your distress?”
    Brigit shook her head vehemently.
    “Then you have naught to fear this night.”
    “But what about tomorrow?”
    “You must trust your laird to have considered the morrow.” Sabrine sincerely hoped her confidence in the giant man was not misplaced.
    And then Barr was there, laying his big hand on the small girl’s back. “I willna allow any to hurt your dam.”
    “She didna want me to tell anyone.” Tears were close to the surface in the girl’s voice and the trembling of her lip.
    “Aye, and you’ve told us naught, but your innocent question. Your dam will not blame you.”
    “I promised.”
    “You’ve broken no promise.” Barr’s gentle demeanor with the child touched Sabrine’s soul.
    How could this man be the alpha of the pack that had stolen the ravens’ sacred talisman?
    “You will still go for a walk in the forest with us tomorrow?” Brigit asked Sabrine anxiously.
    “I will.”
    “You’ll not be leaving this bed.” Barr’s tone carried the weight of his position as laird and pack leader.
    She ignored it. “I will.”
    “No.”
    “Yes.”
    “You are wounded.” He sounded like he was trying to be reasonable and could not understand her recalcitrance.
    “It is not so great I must languish in bed.” Allowing him to believe she was a helpless human was one thing, but having him believe she needed to be bedridden defeated her purpose of searching for the Heart of the Moon stone.
    Instead of arguing with her as she expected, Barr gave her a calculated look laced with a good deal of heat.
    Just when she realized it might have been a tad precipitous to argue her relative good health just before spending the night under his watch, Earc said, “I