Moon Awakening

'Please do not let anyone know you are aware of the Chrechte's true natures.'

'Why?'

'Few humans within the clans know and those that do, guard the secret with their lives. If they betray it, the punishment is death.'

Emily felt her face leach of color. 'I see,' she said faintly.

'As your betrothed, Talorc had the right to tell you, but I did not.'

'You mean you could be killed for telling me?'

Cait grasped her hand and squeezed it. 'I do not think it would come to that since you are betrothed to Talorc.'

'But you are not certain. You risked your life to tell me this.'

'I did not know what else to do.'

'I will not betray you, Cait.'

Her friend gave her a tremulous smile. 'I know.'

Cait left a short time later after a servant had come to tell her that her husband wished her return to their quarters.

Chapter 14

Emily's thoughts buzzed inside her head like a hive of bees upset by someone trying to harvest the honey.

There were so many of them that she could not make sense of even one. Images and words tumbled together in an incomprehensible mass more daunting than her first Latin primer. She wished she had the abbess here to help her decipher her current situation as she had helped Emily understand the language of the Church.

The stone walls of her room felt like they were closing in on her and she jumped to her feet. She needed to get out of the keep, to breathe some fresh air. Her thoughts began to settle as she was forced to focus on her step so she did not trip climbing down the circular stairs.

Of all things, the first real image she could hold on to was that of the monster werewolves her father's housekeeper had told her about so many nights beside the kitchen fire. The Scotswoman had used words to draw the monsters in vivid detail for her audience until some nights, Emily had dreamed about them. And when she was small, she could remember wishing she could be as powerful as the fabled creatures so she would not be so afraid anymore.

Not of water. Not of her papa. Not of Sybil's disapproval. Not of the monster Death, which had claimed her beloved mama. Not of anything.

But she had never in her wildest fantasies dreamed she would ever meet someone who claimed to be one. Only Cait claimed to be a femwolf. She said that Lachlan was a werewolf. The small hairs on the back of Emily's neck rose and goose bumps chased themselves up and down her arms at the thought.

She found exquisite pleasure in his kisses and craved more of his touch, but if Cait's claims were true… Emily wanted the caresses of an animal. Did that make her depraved? But he wasn't an animal… not wholly. He was a man who could take animal form. That was not the same, was it? Cait did not act like an animal; she acted like a woman and Emily was sure her friend was not depraved, but she obviously was content in her marriage bed. Of course, she was part animal, too.

On another burst of confusion, Emily reached the bottom of the stairs. She was happy to discover the door leading to the outside was not closed. It was heavy and when she had tried to open it earlier today, Cait had gently pushed her aside to do it herself. Emily had surmised at the time that there was a trick to it that she did not know. Now she had to wonder if the door had been easier for her friend because of Cait's femwolf strength.

With that disturbing thought, Emily nodded at a group of soldiers coming up the steps. She peered intently at them, trying to guess which were werewolves and which were human. She couldn't see any discernible differences. Was there a way to tell? How had Cait determined that Ulf was human? The soldiers gave her some odd looks as they passed and she had to fight a blush as she realized it looked as if she were ogling them.

Sybil would have pitched a fit if Emily had done anything of the sort to her father's soldiers.

She averted her eyes, but was soon studying everyone around her with more than her usual interest again. Cait had said that only a small portion of the clan were shape-changers, but Emily didn't see any way of telling who was and who wasn't. Did that mean they were all human? Even if that was the most logical conclusion, Emily was far from convinced it was the case.

Lachlan had said so many things that implied he saw himself as more than human and if he was a werewolf, that made sense. He was naturally arrogant, but even so… his attitude and actions did seem to imply it was more than the mere conceit of the powerful leader a clan. Hadn't he referred to his beast within more than once? Plus, his sense of hearing was astounding. To say nothing of his sense of smell.

She stopped and chatted with some children playing near the kitchens. Try as she might, she could see no differences between the children. They were all curious about England though, and were delighted she spoke Gaelic.

'So, are there monsters in England who eat bad children?' a tiny girl asked.

Emily laughed. 'I believe some parents tell their children this, but I've never seen one.'

'Were you bad as a child?' a little boy asked.

'Not usually.'

'Then, you wouldn't have seen them, would you?' he asked with, irrefutable child's logic.

'Our cook's son was certainly bad. He liked to jump out of dark corners and scare people, especially children smaller than he was. He never got eaten by a monster.'

'Maybe the cook made something else for the monster to eat.'

Emily laughed. 'Are there monsters here in the Highlands?'

The little girl wrinkled her nose. 'I think there are giant serpents in the lochs, but Mum says there aren't. She says I shouldn't be afraid to bathe because I might get eaten.'

Emily dropped to her haunches and cupped the wee girl's cheek. 'I think your mother is right.'

'We've got lots of wild animals and they're scary as monsters,' one boy boasted.

'Aye. Our wolves are bigger than any you'll find elsewhere and the wild boars can kill even a warrior with their big tusks.'

Emily gave an exaggerated shiver. 'I shall avoid them at all possible costs then.'

The children laughed and one of the boys said, 'You don't need to worry, English lady, our warriors protect the clan and no one can beat a Balmoral warrior.'

'You'll be one someday, won't you?' she asked with a smile.

The boy nodded self-importantly. 'I won't never let no serpent eat my little sister.'

The small girl who had first voiced that fear looked on with awe and adoration and Emily could not hide her own smile in response. 'I'm sure you won't.'

'I still say there are monsters in England. They don't have any Chrechte to slay them.'

'Chrechte?' Emily asked, her breath stilling in her chest.

'Our fiercest warriors.'

'My dad's a fine warrior and he's not Chrechte,' another boy said.

It looked like a fight would break out and Emily intervened. 'I'm sure both your fathers are fierce.'

The Chrechte boy nodded, but there was an expression in his eyes that said he knew something the others didn't. Maybe it was all her imagination, but it seemed to Emily that he carried himself with an arrogance a lot like Lachlan's.

Her mind whirled as the children went back to their play. Their certainty that a creature did not have to be seen to exist reminded her that many things in life had to be taken on faith. She'd never seen the king in person, but she knew he was a real man. Because her father and others had seen him and told her. She'd never seen God, but she didn't doubt his existence. She crossed herself quickly.