by Lucy Monroe
Without speaking again to Lais, she instructed both her grandchildren to lay hands on the crystal as well. “Ravens will heal the heart that has spent too long reviling them.”
Lais let out a sob but did as he had been told.
At first the color around them was almost black, but as time wore on it got lighter and lighter until all that remained was a pale yellow. The color of the sun.
“My hands are hot,” Lais said in trepidation mixed with hope.
“Mate of my granddaughter, come here,” Anya-Gra demanded imperiously.
Barr did not even consider disobeying. He stopped less than a foot from the tableau around the stone.
“Eagle, put your hands on the wounds you inflicted.”
Lais turned and did exactly that, laying his palms over the worst of the gashes his claws had rent in Barr’s chest the day before. Tingling heat raced along each of the wounds until all that remained was the heat from Lais’s hands.
Barr looked down and felt no surprise that his chest showed not so much as a healing scar. Since meeting Sabrine, he had come to accept that legend held truth and the power of the Chrechte was in more than their enhanced strength and senses gifted from their animal natures.
Lais was not so quick to accept. “I … but I thought …”
“The power in the cavern is stronger than it has been in all my years as spiritual leader of the Éan. In this circumstance, miracles happen.” Anya-Gra waved her hand and water from the pool to the right of the dais surged up, drenching them both.
Lais stepped back, looking up at Barr with hope. “I feel cleansed of my guilt.”
“Accept the gift.”
Lais nodded and turned to face the priestess. “Thank you, mother of our people.”
Anya-Gra smiled. “Though you are eagle, with instincts of war, you are healer and must trust and use your gift.”
“I will.”
Allowing his wolf to shine in his eyes, Barr looked at his mate and reached his hand out for her. She took it with no hesitation. Miracles happened.
“I love you,” she said in the ancient language of their people.
He pulled her into the circle of his arms, letting the others fall away as if they were not there. “I love you with all that I am.”
“Faol and man.”
“Wolf and man.”
She smiled, her beauty glowing so brightly that their souls mingled. “I love all that you are.” She said it loud enough for every Chrechte in the cavern to hear.
The sounds of shock nearly matched those that he’d heard when Taran had taken on the form of a dragon.
But Barr could not make himself care. He would deal with her people’s doubts and prejudices later. For now, it was enough she had released hers and embraced their mating with both her heart and her mind.
Their lips met and the air crackled like it did after a lightning storm. He did not know how long they kissed to seal their vows of love, but when their lips parted the others were in a circle around them, quietly speaking the ancient chants of a Chrechte mating.
That was no doubt Anya-Gra’s doing. He would thank her later.
He had never known such a sense of peace as he spoke his vows in entirety and received hers in return. The priestess spoke the final blessing on their true mating, a sound like the clap of thunder shaking the very ground they stood on.
She ushered the others out of the cavern, leaving him to mate with Sabrine in the original way of their people. When they reached orgasm together, the blue light shone around them again and Barr felt it go through him like a warm wind.
“I will love you until the day I die,” he spoke his personal promise against her lips.
Her eyes shone with fierce joy. “I feared you could not return my love.”
“I feared you would never accept my wolf.”
“I love him; I love you.”
“I am your ideal mate, even if I am Faol.”
Sabrine stared up at her husband. They would still need to be married in the way of men, but their vows had been spoken and would never be broken.
Of equal interest to her was her husband’s claim. “You can read my mind.”
His smile revealed nothing but the deep and abiding love in his heart for his warrior wife. “Can I?”
“Do not tease.”
“You sometimes send thoughts I know you do not mean to.”
“That is not possible.”
“You trust me enough not to hold your control so tight, and you always have. It gave me hope when you flinched from my wolf in revulsion.”
“But …”
“You are mine.”
She had no desire to deny it. “Oh, yes, just as you are mine.”
“Aye, your husband who can hear your thoughts.” From his teasing tone, she could not tell if he meant the words or not.
“That is not possible.”
“This from a woman whose brother shifted into a dragon?”
She had not been sure at first he had actually shifted into their ancient ancestor. “I can project the dragon, but not shift into it.”
“You are my fierce warrior princess. You need no dragon form to be strong.”
She loved the pride she heard in Barr’s voice. Her strength pleased him when she knew many men, Faol and human alike, raised in the clans would not feel so happy about it. “My brother will be king.”
“Because you stepped aside.”
“I did not want to be queen. I thought I could do more to protect my people as a warrior.”
“You have. You would never have left your lands as a queen and we would not have met.”
“And my mate will bring the wolves prophesied to help us fight those who would destroy us.” Perhaps her husband’s arrogance was justified. She almost smiled.
“Finally, you comprehend.”
“It was hard to trust.”
“In your head, but your heart believed me from the first.”
“I think you are right.”
“I know I am.”
“Arrogant.”
His laughter echoed in the cavern and in her heart, which had spent too long devoid of joy. She had not only found her sacred mate, she had found a new path to life not bound by duty and death.
A miracle indeed.
Berkley Sensation titles by Lucy Monroe
TOUCH ME
TEMPT ME
TAKE ME
MOON AWAKENING
MOON CRAVING
MOON BURNING