Viking's Moon (Children of the Moon Book 6)

by Lucy Monroe

  "Ja. A mating is a great celebration. The human soldiers will be put in charge of security of the village."

  "Do any humans come?"

  "Mates of the kotrondmenskr," Einar offered.

  "The mating ceremony will last for three days," the jarl added.

  "Three days?" Artair asked with an unmanly squeak.

  "Are matings not done this way among your pack?" the jarl asked, sounding like he could not imagine it. "They are the most important events within our Pride. The first ceremony is to bless the joining of the two mates. The second is a Pride ceremony, affirming our connection to one another and on the third morning, we have a last ceremony if the woman is with child from the first two nights, giving thanks for continued life in our Pride."

  "There is no woman in this mating," Artair said, this time his voice as hard as he'd ever wanted it to be.

  "Nei, but we will stay the second night regardless," Einar said, his own tone without give. "It is a tradition."

  "Please tell me there's some level of privacy for the mating." Artair knew that certain aspects of the physical joining were witnessed in a Faol mating, if not watched, but to have his wedding night, as it were, held in a communal setting was not something he wanted.

  At all.

  "Our sacred caves have a series of chambers, never fear. You and my son will have all the privacy you need to cement your bond," the jarl said with a smile.

  "Uh, thank you." Artair wasn't entirely comfortable discussing having penetrative sex for the first time with his soon to be father-in-law.

  Artair slid his gaze to his mate and found Einar looking far from embarrassed. The only description for the look in the tiger's bright blue gaze was heated.

  And Artair's body reacted to his mate's desire. Predictably.

  "Stop it," he demanded of Einar, embarrassed because Artair knew all the Chrechte in the longhouse couldn't help but smell the arousal rolling off of him and his mate.

  The jarl's booming laugh only added to that embarrassment.

  But Einar shook his head. "You cannot expect any other reaction to discussion of our mating."

  "Then we will talk about something else," Artair said forcefully.

  He was a wolf, damn it. But he'd spent his whole adult life masking his desire for the wolf he thought was supposed to be his mate.

  This openness was unnerving, but welcome just the same.

  "I will never hide what I feel for you, or deny you in any way," Einar said, as if he could read Artair's very thoughts.

  Would they share a mental bond once they had mated?

  The walk to the sacred caves was festive, with the small Pride singing ancient songs, playing with their children and teasing Einar and Artair mercilessly about what was to come. It was unlike anything the wolf shifter had ever experienced.

  His clan were close, but this was more like an extended family getting together to celebrate a holiday. Everyone shared their food when they stopped to eat. All the adults shared in watching over the children, some carrying the littlest ones.

  Einar had his giant warhorse, but he did not ride it. Instead, he had the Seer on the horse's back, holding one child, or another as the day progressed.

  Artair could feel the concentration of Chrechte magic as they neared the caves, a sense of the sacred that was familiar to him.

  But the surroundings were not. Colder than his home in the Highlands of Scotland, some of the passages were as much ice as rock.

  The Seer, who had left the horse outside the caves, pointed to the amazing blue ice walls. "These were not here when we first settled this place. It has grown colder over the centuries."

  Artair inclined his head in question. "It has?"

  "Ja. It was never the green paradise Eirik the Red tried to make it out to be to draw others to settle here as well, but it was warmer and easier to farm in the beginning."

  "It still amazes me that you have lived so long," Artair said.

  "Not all Seers do, you are aware?" the ancient man said.

  "I thought they did," Einar interrupted, with a frown.

  "Nei. Only the Seers given the gift of drawing forth or killing the soul of the Chrechte beast."

  "You can do that?" Artair asked with shock, atavistic fear skittering up his spine.

  The thought of losing his wolf too abhorrent for voicing.

  "Ja. It is a great burden to bear."

  "And the celi di, do they live as long as the conriocht?" Artair asked, not wanting to dwell on the Seer's terrible gift.

  "If they are mated to them, yes, or what do you call it? Ah, yes, if they are kelle."

  "Why do some live such long lives, I wonder."

  "None know for certain, though we all have our own thoughts on the matter."

  Artair nodded but said nothing as a hush fell over the Pride upon entering a giant cavern, a steaming pool in the center. So, water played a part in their ceremonies as well.

  For some reason, this little fact gave Artair a sense of peace that had eluded him all morning. This might be the Paindeal ceremony, but at heart it was Chrechte, ancient and right.

  A man Artair had only met briefly in his time in Greenland, stepped forward. He wore the priest's garb of the Roman church, but his scent was Chrechte. He must be the celi di, the Chrechte who oversaw the spiritual welfare of the pride.

  Some clans, the Seer was celi di, some they were different people, some had only one and not the other.

  Though he wore the garb of a priest, the celi di did not speak words of Latin, but offered the ancient Chrecht rite of mating.

  Einar offered his vows in a voice filled with conviction, his expression leaving none of those present how seriously he took their mating.

  Artair found himself just as determined to speak with the conviction to keep his promises that came from the very depth of his soul. This kotrondmenskr was his mate. His.

  The Chrechte believed that the soul binding lasted through eternity.

  Artair knew that whatever eternity might bring, he would be Einar's mate for their lifetimes.

  The children were brought forward and recognized officially as belonging to Einar and Artair, their deceased birth parents given recognition and thanksgiving by the Pride for their part in providing heirs to the next jarl.

  All four, Einar, Artair, Jorgen and Marie, touched the stone together, light swirling around them. At first there were green ribbons from Artair, red from Einar and a soft almost, pink from the children, and then the colors merged, turning a brilliant white. Gasps from those around them told Artair, the small kotrondmenskr hjart did not always elicit such an outward reaction to the joining of souls.

  "Their mating must be ordained by destiny," Dag said in a reverent tone.

  "He's our lord's mate for sure," Olaf agreed with clear satisfaction.

  Jorgan looked up at him, his child's gaze filled with wonder. "We're a family now. A real family, pa." He looked up at Einar. "Fadir."

  Marie threw her arms around Artair and started to cry. "My pa."

  He lifted her in his arms, noticing that Einar had done the same for Jorgen and they embraced each other, so their new, small family were enclosed in a world of their own. The kotrondmenskr hjart continued to glow, filling the cavern with a supernatural light that felt entirely benevolent.

  After their family moment, the Pride continued with the Chrechte chant of mating as they filed out of the main cavern to congregate elsewhere.

  A pile of furs near the pool in the center made it clear that they were expected to consummate their mating here, in this sacred place.

  Artair looked up at Einar, knowing the time had come. He was nervous, but not frightened. For so long he'd thought he would never have sex and now he would be mated for the rest of his life.

  The scent of lust coming off of Einar said that the mating would be a robust one.

  "I have no sexual experience except what we've done together," Artair reminded his mate.

  Einar's smile was very satisfi
ed. "Ja. I know and that makes my tiger very happy."

  "You cannot say the same."

  "Nei. But I will have no other."

  "I never want to know who you have been with."

  "No one from this island. Only those who have come to trade."

  "Even so. My wolf will want to rip their throats out."

  A very tiger like purr came out of Einar. "My beast likes your possessiveness."

  Artair shook his head. "I think my wolf would like you naked."

  "Ja. It is time for the sacred rite in the pool."

  "What is this sacred rite?" Artair asked.

  "We wash one another and make more promises, personal promises to each other."

  A thrill of anticipation washed over Artair. "I'm looking forward to it."

  Neither said a word, but they moved as one to undress each other.

  As Einar released Artair's plaid so it fell to the stone floor, he asked, "How long are you going to wear your clan's colors?"

  Artair paused in his own unlacing of Einar's breaches, at first not comprehending what his mate was asking, but realizing that he actually had no plans to stop wearing his kilt.

  And that might not be the right answer.

  "I did not think about it."

  "You pledged your loyalty to our Pride."

  "I did."

  Einar said nothing, just looked at him, waiting.

  Artair frowned, but continued to undress his mate, buying himself time to think. Which might have been the wrong tactic as Einar's naked body had a predictable effect on his own.

  Still he tried to put his thoughts into order. "My plaid has always been part of who I am, revealing to everyone where I belong, even when we came on this journey to the land of the Norse and beyond, all who saw me knew I was Scot, if not of the clan Balmoral."

  Einar brushed his hand down Artair's smooth chest, brushing his thumb over Artair's nipple and sending shards of pleasure piercing through him. "But now you are part of my family. My mate. Kotrondmenskr by pledge, if not by birth."

  Artair stared up at his mate, his own hands reaching out instinctively to touch. Einar's big body shuddered at the contact.

  Despite how much he wanted to simply lose himself in the pleasure of being naked with his mate, Artair forced himself to consider what Einar had asked. As much as Artair had not thought about what he wore, it was clearly of importance to the man who would one day be jarl.

  "More importantly, I am yours," Artair said the only truth that mattered to him right then.

  Einar's blue gaze flared with emotion as he pulled Artair into full body contact with a convulsive grip. "You are mine."

  "I am."

  "It is time for the pool."

  They entered the pool together, their hands clasped, both their erections on full display. But instinctively, Artair knew now was not the time to touch Einar there. They still had a ceremony to perform.

  Einar grabbed a bowl filled with dried herbs and sand, using the mixture to wash Artair as he made very personal promises in the ancient tongue of the Chrechte. "I will always honor your body, I will crave no other for succor or satisfaction," Einar vowed.

  Artair scooped out a handful of the herbs and sand and used it and rubbed it over Einar's torso and back. "I will treasure my right to touch you as no one else ever will again. I will give you pleasure and only accept pleasure from your body and no other," Artair promised in the same tongue.

  Only once every other part of their bodies had been cleansed and Artair shook with the need, did he touch his mate's engorged sex.

  It was big, but Artair had no fear of taking Einar into his body. Nor did he question, that this night, at least, that was the way the claiming would go.

  Einar groaned at Artair's touch. "Ja, astin min. Touch me."

  Being called Einar's love did something to Artair's heart, healing the wounds caused by years of past rejection.

  "Mo chridhe." Artair grasped Einar's rock-hard cock and caressed it from root to tip. "Mo toilichte."

  Einar's purr reminded Artair his mate shared his soul with a tiger. "What does that mean?"

  "My heart, my happiness."

  Einar's smile was brilliant. "The joy we find in our mating will be without end."

  "I believe you." Artair didn't expect it all to be happiness, but how could he not find joy with such a mate? With a man who called him beloved and meant it?

  "I want you."

  Einar growled, the sound feral and fearsome, before lifting Artair against him. Artair wrapped his legs around his mates hips, leaning forward to lock his lips to Einar's.

  Einar returned the kiss with a passion that said he'd been starved for Artair's touch. It had been mere days, but this felt like he'd made Einar wait weeks, or even months, for this claiming.

  To be wanted this much was in itself a powerful aphrodisiac.

  They were moving and then Einar lowered them, still wet from the sacred springs to the pile of furs beside it.

  Artair dropped his legs but spread them in an invitation his mate could not mistake.

  Einar's blue eyes were dark with lust, his breaths coming out in harsh pants, his hands curled reflexively and powerfully around Artair's biceps as if Einar was afraid his mate would get up and leave.

  No chance of that. "I want you," Artair told him again. "Today and always."

  "More than you wanted Gart?" Einar asked, showing a vulnerability Artair would not have guessed at.

  They were mates. Both knew that once this claiming was over, neither would ever be capable of physical intimacy with another. Still Einar needed reassurances.

  "More. I want you with everything in me and I trust you to want me back," Artair said, his heart telling him how true the words were. "I always pushed away my desire with Gart, but with you I know I can let it burn hotter than the blacksmith's fire. I have never felt anything so consuming. If you do not claim me, I will die."

  He didn't care how over the top that sounded, it was exactly how Artair felt. That Einar's touch was necessary to his very breath and beating heart.

  Artair's words seemed to release something inside Einar because suddenly the kotrondmenskr’s hands were everywhere, touching Artair intimately, bringing impossible levels of pleasure. He had not yet even brushed Artair's sex yet, but he felt like exploding, on the verge of climaxing.

  Einar nibbled against Artair's small, male nipples and that climax grew ever closer along with the most profound sense of connection Artair had ever felt. Their souls were joining as close as Artair's human and his wolf.

  "Please, mate…" But he didn't know what he wanted. To come? To have their bodies joined completely?

  To kiss?

  All of it.

  Artair rocked against his mate, his hardness rubbing against Einar's, sending arrows of pleasure piercing through him.

  Einar lifted his head and torso, just a little, enough so their gazes could meet. "You are so beautiful in you pleasure, Artair."

  "Men are not beautiful."

  "My man is."

  Artair might have protested again, but Einar thrust down with his hips, increasing the friction of their sexes rubbing together.

  Artair groaned and tilted his pelvis up, meeting his mate thrust for thrust.

  Einar rolled back onto his haunches, his jaw hewn from granite. "Another time, we will find our pleasure that way, but my tiger demands I be inside you and finish the claiming."

  Despite the atavistic fear Artair felt at that irrevocable step, he nodded. "Aye, my wolf demands the same."

  "For you to be inside me?" Einar asked, his tone gritty with passion.

  "Would you allow that?"

  "Ja, of course, you are my mate."

  "Good to know, but what I want, what I and my wolf need is for you to be inside me and give me the claiming bite."

  Einar tipped his head back and roared, the sound pure, alpha tiger. He reached for something in the furs, lifting a small cask Artair had not noticed.

  Using hi
s teeth, Einar removed the cork and then spit it out toward the floor of the cave, away from them. Tilting the cask, he poured oil onto Artair's scrotum, letting it run down into his crease.

  Then Einar reached down and rubbed the oil all around Artair's sphincter, bringing unexpected pleasure so intense, Artair could do nothing but moan.

  Einar wet his fingers with the oil and then pressed one against Artair, pushing until it popped into his most private flesh. The feeling that their bodies were joined in a way that was so incredibly private washed over Artair in waves of bliss. This mating would be complete in every way, Einar would hold nothing back from Artair and Artair would never deny his body to the tiger shifter.

  The intrusion of Einar's big finger burned a little, but the pleasure of being touched so intimately was there too.

  Einar pressed up and touched something inside Artair that made the wolf shifter shout with pleasure as he arched up from the furs. "What was that?" he demanded with panting breaths.

  "Your pleasure spot."

  "Men have them?" He thought that was only women.

  "We were created one for the other, naturally your body will find pleasure in receiving my sex."

  Artair could not answer. He'd lost his ability to speak as Einar added a second finger, rubbing over that pleasure spot over and over again.

  "Please, Einar, mo chridhe, I need you."

  "You are very tight, mate. I need to stretch you more."

  Artair shook his head in negation, but when Einar added a third finger, the burn nearly overcame the pleasure and his body acquiesced to his mate's ministrations.

  Though his body shook with need and the scent of Einar's permeated the air around them, Artair's mate continued stretching that tiny opening so he could accommodate the very large and now leaking sex of his mate.

  Finally, though, Einar removed his hand and shifted so his head pressed against Artair's opening. "It would be easier on you if you turned over," he said in a guttural voice, more tiger than man.

  "I want to see you," Artair said, his wolf howling inside him with approval.

  "You are sure?" Einar asked, his effort at holding back showing in how rigidly he held himself.

  "I am. Join our bodies, Einar."