Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

he sent you on this journey with Eirik alone.”
    “We are not alone.” Ciara’s gazed flitted to where Mairi now sat in a chair beside Caitriona and Lais once again stood sentinel behind her. “The eagle shifter and seer accompany us.”
    She spoke freely in front of the priest, but then the man knew all the secrets of his flock. ’Twas to be expected.
    Lachlan did not look impressed with her argument, however. “But if your father objected to Eirik as your mate, he would have come as well.”
    “Or sent Niall,” Ciara said with dawning understanding and unwittingly echoing her uncle’s earlier words. She frowned. “My father expected this.”
    “Aye, lass.”
    “But I don’t want to get married.”

Chapter 20

Love is often the fruit of marriage.
    —M OLIÈRE
    “I didn’t, either, but it turned out well,” Caitriona said with a smile.
    “For that matter, I had no intention of marrying Lachlan, but the man has a way with him.” Emily’s smile belied the spicy stories Eirik had heard about the couple’s volatile courtship and beginning of their marriage.
    Ciara’s breath came out in panicked little gasps. “It’s not the same.”
    “I am sending a messenger to your father.” The Balmoral crossed his arms over his massive chest and looked as movable as a rock. “He can carry news of your mating and wedding or your mating alone. ’Tis your choice.”
    The horror that came over Ciara’s countenance would have been amusing if Eirik could not see the genuine fear and pain underneath it as well. She was terrified at the prospect of marriage. To him.
    He did not like it. He did not understand it. And he would not allow it.
    He moved to stand in front of her so she could seenaught but him. Cupping her nape beneath her brown tresses, he squeezed with reassurance and met her troubled emerald gaze. “You have already spoken the vows that matter most. There is naught to fear in adding the priest’s blessing to our union.”
    “I did not want a mate,” she whispered, moisture glazing her eyes.
    Aye, she’d made that clear enough. “But you have one.”
    “Yes.”
    “I would be your husband as well.”
    “’Tis the way of things,” she agreed with little enthusiasm.
    He leaned down so their foreheads touched. “Aye.”
    “It does not feel right that Abigail and Talorc are not here to witness it.” There was too much true sadness in Ciara’s words for Eirik to believe she was merely trying to put off the ceremony.
    “We will ask my grandmother to come to the Sinclair holding to officiate in the public rite of a Chrechte mating upon our return.”
    “You promise?”
    “I do.”
    “All right.”
    He lifted his head and kissed the top of hers. “It will be.”
    She shrugged and it bothered him.
    “You are not agreeing simply to avoid your father challenging me.” As effective as the Balmoral’s methods, Eirik wanted unfettered agreement from the woman who would promise before God and man to share her life with his. “I would not kill him.”
    Her gaze rose to meet his, her green depths dark with certainty. “I know.”
    “Good.”
    “I will not shame him.”
    Eirik liked that reason even less than her agreeing to the wedding out of fear. “There is no shame in being my mate.”
    “Do we have to discuss this now?” she asked, jerking her head toward the others in the room as if he had forgotten they were there. “If we are going to stand for the priest’s blessing, it is best we get it done.”
    Eirik had an irrational impulse to call the whole thing off but stifled it. Whatever her reasons, Ciara had agreed to bind her life to his. It was a place of starting.
    She would come to understand how well they were matched in time. He would allow no other outcome.
    C iara’s hands were cold as she placed them in Eirik’s before the priest spoke his blessing on their marriage. The words in Latin flew over her head without registering as she fought her inner demons over this wedding.
    She’d agreed, not out of fear of the challenge or her shame, as Eirik thought. Of course he was right, what kind of shame could there be in mating such a strong and loyal Chrechte? She was proud, if terrified, to claim him for her own.
    But she wouldn’t have…if she’d had the choice. Only she didn’t. She’d known that the night before. Her instinct to fight the additional bonds between them that this wedding would create had driven her initial denial, but she was no fool.
    Not really. And