Warrior's Moon

“Aye.” Talorc’s frown was fierce. “You are conriocht.”

“You make that sound an accusation.” If Shona’s own glare were directed at him, it would have made even Caelis cringe. “He saved our lives.”

“He revealed his third form to humans and to Faol who are unaware of the return of our race’s protectors.”

Maon returned from washing himself in the stream, having transformed back to man. “I shifted first.”

Caelis wasn’t worried about the Sinclair’s anger, though he respected Maon for his honesty and willingness to have that ire directed at him. But nothing would have kept Caelis from shifting to his fiercest form when his mate and children were in danger; Talorc should have been well aware of that fact.

Dismissing the other alpha’s wrath from his mind, Caelis focused on regaining his human form now that his family was no longer in imminent danger. Heat suffused his body and the air compressed around him in a way it did not when he shifted back and forth from his wolf.

A moment later, he swayed on his feet, his perspective that of a man again. Shona rushed over and offered her arm.

He did not make the mistake of smiling at the gesture or refusing her help. The woman was half his width —even as a man—and more than a head shorter, but he leaned slightly on her shoulder regardless. The force of her spirit more than made up for what she might lack in stature. Had she been born Ean, Caelis had no doubt Shona would have become one of their guardians as the princess, Sabrine, had been before her marriage to the laird of the Donegal.

Shona directed him toward a tree. “Lean here.”

He stumbled forward, grateful when his back was against the solid trunk.

He was always dizzy after shifting from his conriocht…and hungry. He could eat a boar.

Talorc gave him a sympathetic look he was sure no one else saw—and if they did, would not understand.

But Talorc and the Balmoral pack alpha had also been chosen through the sacred stone as protectors of their people.

Not all on the Chrechte council were aware of this fact, which only went to prove that despite their efforts to live as a single people, trust between them all was not assured.

Thus far, there was only complete disclosure between the lairds of the Sinclair, Balmoral and Donegal clans. The others on the council only knew the barest facts about the Ean’s return to the clans.

None of them knew about Prince Eirik’s dragon form or about the return of the Faolchu Chridhe to the Faol.

Ciara, the newly appointed celi di of the Faol, followed advice given to her through visions by an ancient celi di. She was insistent the time had not yet come to reveal the sacred stone’s return.

Unlike the Ean who only had one protector in a generation, the Faol could have many.

Right now, they had three.

The Ean’s prince was a fearsome beast in his dragon form, more than capable of taking on an entire pack of conriocht, though.

It was a good thing they were all allies.

And if Caelis had his way, the MacLeod clan would join that group, its pack submitting to the authority of the Chrechte council as the others did.

As much as any Highlander submitted to another.

Most important, the MacLeod Faol would begin training in the true ancient ways of the Chrechte. His brethren would learn, as he had, that there was no honor in killing Ean simply because they shifted into birds.

Many would resist the truth that they were not superior to other Chrechte or humanity, but Caelis had faith in his fellow wolves.

Some would be like Sean, but more would shift their thinking just as they shifted forms.

“Are you well?” Shona asked, her tone filled with worry.

Caelis allowed himself to secretly enjoy the concern in her demeanor and leaned more heavily against the tree. “Aye.”

“He’ll be hungry,” the Sinclair informed her, with a look of knowing for Caelis.

“Because of your transformation?” she asked.

“Aye.” His stomach gave an angry rumble. “It’s always worse after I shift back from conriocht.”

“Then let us get back to the keep.” She looked expectantly at Talorc.

The laird shook his head with a smile. “I’ve a feeling you’re going to be every bit as managing as Abigail.”

“Your wife seems all that is amiable to me.”

“Oh, aye. When she’s of a mind to be, there is no one more charming or pleasant.” The pride in Talorc’s voice was unmistakable.

“Women have to be strong in this world if we do not wish to be crushed under the plans of men.”

The laird grunted surprising agreement, though Caelis couldn’t deny Shona’s words, either. She’d paid the price for Uven’s machinations and then her own father’s plans. Whether the man thought his arrangements for her were for Shona’s benefit, they had caused her a great deal of pain.

They retrieved his sword and kilt on the way back to the keep, as well as the dead wolves. The Sinclair soldiers wrapped the bodies in MacLeod colors for transport, as was proper. There would be a joint funeral pyre lit that night on moonrise.

Sean’s carcass was left in the forest for the animals and carrion birds, his treachery bringing its own reward.

* * *

Audrey watched the man Laird Sinclair had just declared her husband before he would allow Vegar to accompany her abovestairs. Things had happened so fast, but then, they could between wolves.

The Faol understood the base drives in nature and didn’t fight those that were paramount, like that of mating.

Besides, Audrey preferred “wife” over lehman any day.

Vegar turned back from having dropped the bar on the door. Abigail had left some time ago, but she’d sent Ciara up with a healing tea, which Vegar had insisted on tasting before passing onto Audrey.

Thankfully, the laird’s adopted daughter, not to mention celi di to the Faol, had not appeared offended by Vegar’s precautions.

“She was not trying to poison me.”

Vegar’s brows drew together in confusion. “I did not say she was.”

“You insisted on tasting the tea before allowing me to drink it.”

“I wanted to make sure it was not too hot.”

“Oh.” That was…actually incredibly sweet.

And sweet was not a word she thought of in association with her mate.

“You are not as I expected from our first meeting.”

He grimaced. “I believe that is a good thing.”

She found herself smiling. “Yes, I do believe it is.”

“I am not a bad man,” he said, clearly offended.

Men could be so touchy. Her brother was more easily offended than either Shona or Audrey.

Deciding words were best left at present, Audrey took a sip of the honey-sweetened beverage made from what tasted like a combination of valerian root and chamomile. She would be asleep soon.

She wondered if Vegar realized what the tea was intended to do.

It would seem not.

He watched her, his hazel eyes dark with emotion she had never before welcomed in a man. Lust. She could not welcome it now, either. Audrey gripped the cup of hot drink with both her hands. She was not at all sure