Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

because her face was so hot she would have gladly dunked her head in the bucket of water. “Will you shift your behemoth body so I can see Artair and Gart, please ?”
    He moved but ruined her pleasure at his cooperation by asking, “You find me too large?”
    “I did not say that.” Too large? How could she when she found him perfect in most every way? And that was not a revelation she needed to make, to herself or him. Life as a seer was much more complicated than when she’d merely been a daughter who could avoid all entanglements behind the wall of her adopted family. “It would not be appropriate for me to comment one way or another.”
    “You called me giant.”
    “I’ve also called you dragon. You did not take offense at that.”
    “I am a dragon.”
    “And you are a very big man.”
    “I think you like big.” His tone and the heat in his stare said more than the words, and they said enough .
    “Stop. Please.” Ciara turned her attention to Artair and asked somewhat desperately, “Are your clan accepting of them, the Éan I mean?”
    She expected they were, but discovering the Éan were known as bird shifters among the Balmoral might put a different light on it. She hoped not, though.
    “Oh, aye,” Artair said with a decisive nod. “No one treats new clan members as anything but family since our lady came near ten years ago.”
    “She’d not settle for it,” Gart agreed.
    Ciara grinned at this mention of Abigail’s acknowledged strong-willed sister. “Aunt Emily did not find such a warm welcome among the Sinclairs, I fear.”
    Artair returned her grin. “So I hear. Though she gave as good as she got, I reckon.”
    “I think you are right.” Ciara laughed softly. “I’m not sure my father has ever gotten over being likened to a goat.”
    “It’s not something a laird would be used to, is it?” Artair asked with another grin.
    Eirik growled, similar but different to a wolf, and she stared at him askance only to turn her head quickly at an almost identical sound from Gart.
    Artair twisted his lips in a grimace. “Ignore him. We’vebeen best mates since before we could walk. So, it stands to reason to him I should marry his sister. But I’m not joining my spirit with another until I feel the call of a true mate, am I?”
    “The old stories claim that in the days of the ancients,” Ciara remembered aloud, “none mated unless they felt the connection of a true bond.”
    “How are you going to know you feel it, until you are mated?” Gart asked with irritation.
    Artair gave him a measured look. “I’ll know.”
    “You’re so damn stubborn.”
    “You’ve been saying so since your first words and it hasn’t changed yet. What makes you think it’s going to?”
    Gart made a sound of exasperation and slammed his now-empty stew bowl down before storming from the hut.
    Ciara got up to gather all the bowls before carrying them to the shelf. She would take them out later to wash with sand and water from the sea.
    She patted the other Balmoral guard on his arm as she walked by him. “He’ll figure it out eventually.”
    “You think so?” Artair shook his head. “I’m about despaired of it ever happening.”
    “He’s a Chrechte. He can’t ignore the call forever.”
    “He could. Some do.”
    She couldn’t argue that, particularly when she was doing her best to ignore her feelings for Eirik. But she did not think Gart was like her. He wasn’t afraid, merely blinded by dreams he’d clearly cherished since childhood.
    “He has to let go of his treasured hopes for his sister first.” She took the seat beside Artair on the small bench. He did not fill the space like Eirik did. “Perhaps you should encourage him to find his own mate.”
    The Balmoral soldier gave her a look of pure horror. “Why would I do that?”
    “Why did you sit beside him?” Eirik demanded.
    She ignored Eirik and told Artair, “So that he will start thinking in the right direction.”
    “I’ll think on it.”
    Eirik stood up, his expression feral in the dusky light ofthe hut. “Your body is touching his,” the Éan prince gritted.
    She scooted so the small spot where their hips had connected did not touch at all. “There. Are you satisfied? You’re being ridiculous. It wasn’t anything like when I was sitting beside you.”
    “Come sit over here.” Eirik pointed to the other bench.
    “I’m fine right here.”
    A low rumble sounded and Ciara watched in fascination as Eirik’s hands