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

by Lucy Monroe

  The tiger woke, but did not move, allowing Artair's wolf what it needed. When he was finished, the tiger turned and groomed him, its scratchy tongue bathing his wolf's body in a way Artair instinctually knew was part of the claiming ritual of the Paindeal.

  Einar finished, biting Artair's snout softly in a sign of approval before standing on all fours and shaking his great body.

  Artair stood as well, but allowed the shift to overcome him, needing to touch the tiger in his human form as much as his wolf had done. He wasn't ready for the full claiming, but his wolf insisted they finish scenting their mate.

  Einar seemed to understand because he did not shift but stood still as Artair ran his hands over the luxuriant pelt. Touching the great beast from the top of his head to the tip of his tail, all the while Einar's tiger purred his approval.

  "You are a beautiful beast, to be sure, but fearsome, even to your mate." White with stripes of black and grey, truly unlike any big cat Artair had ever seen or heard about, even from the well-traveled priest that had opted to see out his old age on Balmoral Island, his mate was impressive and powerful.

  Einar made that chuffing sound again, before purring and rubbing against his body as any wolf might to mark his mate, further mixing their scents and touching Artair deep inside where he did not want to acknowledge.

  He was not ready to give his heart again. Did not know if he would ever be.

  And yet he was not sure he had a choice in the matter. "We are mates."

  Einar nodded his great tiger's head, then cocked it to one side as if waiting for Artair to continue. How could he know Artair had more he wanted to say? Was his scent giving away his misgivings?

  Perhaps. The idea of masking scent from his mate as much of an anathema to Artair as rejecting him.

  "I cannot give my heart away again, so soon after accepting the mate I believed was mine never would be."

  Would the tiger understand?

  The air shimmered around them and then Einar stood there, his big, naked muscular body sending messages to Artair he had been doing his best to ignore since meeting the man.

  He did not look upset by Artair's claim, but indulgent rather. "A Groenlander does not concern himself with matters of the heart."

  "Doesn't he?" Artair asked, unaccountably hurt by such a dictate. "You do not plan to love your mate?" To love him?

  Einar shrugged, his expression supremely unconcerned. "What is love? Some ephemeral emotion women speak of when men are not around."

  "I do not think my clan's women would like being dismissed so easily."

  "I do not dismiss women. I say only that they have different issues of importance to them."

  "So, men do not care about love?"

  "We live to protect our homes, to hunt, to seek out trade to better the lives of those in the jarl's territory."

  "Your father's territory."

  "Ja."

  "I loved Gart." Artair grimaced. "I still love him. As my best friend."

  "I will be your best friend." There was no doubt in Einar's voice and his countenance was not so serene now. "If love is important to you, you will love me."

  Artair ignored the arrogant claim about him loving the Paindeal shifter. "How can you be so sure we'll be friends?" Best friends.

  "It is the way of mates."

  "To be friends but not lovers?" Artair asked, confused.

  "Make no mistake, I will claim your body. You will claim mine. We will be lovers."

  "Aye." He didn't doubt it. Couldn't, no matter what his misgivings.

  Einar gave him a look that probably made others quake. "There will be no room in your heart for old loves."

  "So you want me to love you even if you have no plan to love me?" Artair asked, even as he was relieved that he felt no real fear toward his overwhelming mate.

  He'd been worried, but in that moment, he knew Einar would protect him, never harm him. He tried to ignore the voice in his head and heart claiming such things. He was not ready to trust, but trust was building between them all the same.

  Damn his animal instincts.

  Einar grabbed his shoulders and moved so close the heat of their bodies mingled. "You cannot love another. You are my mate."

  "If I'm going to love you, then you'd damn well better learn to love me," Artair demanded, unwilling to compromise on something this important.

  Even if his arrogant mate didn't realize it.

  "You want me to love you?" Einar asked, sounding shocked.

  Wasn't that what they'd been talking about? "Are you daft?"

  Einar's gaze narrowed, the hold on Artair's shoulders tightening. "Does that mean you don't want tender emotions from me?"

  "Nay. Are you trying to make me angry?"

  "Angrier, I'm sensing. You are already unhappy with me, though I do not know why. And nei that is not my intention."

  "Then what?"

  "You are my mate. I will give you whatever you need to be happy." Einar nodded his head as if affirming the same to himself.

  Artair wasn't convinced. "What if you can't?"

  "Fate has drawn us together. I am the only one who can."

  "Arrogant."

  "Thank you."

  "It was not a compliment."

  "Was it not?"

  Artair made a sound of frustration he had never made before. "Nay."

  "You want me to love you," Einar reminded him. "If that is what you need to be happy as my mate, I will love you. If these soft emotions are important to a Highland wolf, then I must change my own thinking as my mate is such."

  "You really believe none of your Vikings care about loving their mates?"

  "My father has always said that tender emotions are for the more tender sex."

  "So, the Valkyrie? They are only myth?" Artair had wondered since coming to this place if the Valkyrie had been Paindeal women.

  "Nei. The Valkyrie stories were born of the Chrechte women who were trained as fierce warriors and collected the bodies of the kotrondmenskr from the field of battle."

  "Paindeal women are no longer trained to fight?"

  "Ja, they are trained. Some fight more fiercely than the men."

  "Then how are they more tender?"

  Einar shrugged. "I know only that men do not speak of love, but women do."

  "Perhaps your men only speak of love with their mates?" Or their wives if they were not Chrechte.

  "Mayhap you are right, but my uncle swore a warrior could not concern himself with love and be a protector of his people."

  And yet Einar had just said he would learn to love Artair. And he was named protector of the pride. What did that mean?

  "The same uncle who killed other Chrechte because he lost his first mate?" Artair asked with some cynicism for the former asmundr's wisdom.

  "And son."

  "Aye, and son. Are you trying to say his murdering other Chrechte was not motivated by love betrayed and lost? Whatever words he spoke with his mouth, his actions told a different story. Your former asmundr had tender emotions and they got trampled."

  Einar stared at Artair as if his words were incomprehensible, though they'd been speaking in the language of the Norse he'd learned since embarking on this journey.

  Artair let out a harsh bark of laughter. "What did you think? An asmundr's damaged pride would be enough to undermine the very nature of his being to protect all Chrechte?"

  Artair and Haakon had spoken more of what it meant to be asmundr and conriocht on their journey from the eastern beach to the one near the western settlement.

  "It is likely my uncle learned from those very actions that giving into this tender emotions was dangerous." Einar's expression said he thought he'd made an unarguable point.

  "You are saying he did not love his second mate or his son, Haakon?" Artair asked with no small amount of disbelief.

  What Chrechte father did not love their son? 'Twas expected of all Chrechte parents to cherish their children and their mates. Even among the Paindeal, he was sure.
No matter what claims Einar made that he had no interest in tender feelings.

  "If I say ja, he loved Haakon deeply and his mate was cherished as any mate should be, you will give me that superior look again. I do not like it, mate."

  "I do not believe I am superior to you," Artair said in shock.

  "Good. There has been enough separation of our people. To bring the kotrondmenskr and uffe together, we must respect one another."

  "Your own asmundr thought we needed to be separated. He never forgave the council for their betrayal."

  "That is the way my father made it sound, but my uncle has not been our asmundr for many years. My cousin believes the peoples need to be united."

  "And you agree?"

  "Don't you? You came on a perilous journey for naught if you do not."

  "I volunteered for the journey because I believed time and distance might give me the ability to move on from the mate destiny had chosen for me."

  "He came with you."

  "I did not know he would."

  "And yet the trip accomplished what you hoped it would." Einar said the words like a statement, but his expression spoke a question.

  "Aye, it did." Even if Artair was still hurting some and confused, and overwhelmed, he knew for a certainty his life forward would not be as Gart's mate, but as Einar's. "I have found the mate that accepts me."

  It was Artair's turn to speak a question with his eyes, while his words sounded more sure than his heart could support.

  "Ja." Einar slid his hands up Artair's shoulders and cupped his neck, brushing over Artair's Adam's apple with his thumbs. "I threatened to challenge my father for you."

  "For me?" Artair asked, still not sure he believed that.

  "For what else? I have refused to mate in the fur with women of my pride since coming of age because my dreams told me my mate would come to me."

  "Did you believe it would be a woman?"

  Einar grinned, his expression the devil's own. "Nei. Never did I believe fate would treat me so cruelly."

  "You do not like women?"

  "I like and respect the women of my father's holdings, but they do not heat my blood. My nature is as I was born to be." Einar shrugged, like admitting such did not bother him in the least.

  Gart would never admit to the desire Artair had seen in his eyes on many occasions. There was no doubt that he was also attracted to women, but he'd been embarrassed by his attraction to Artair. And denied it.

  Artair had never felt like he could be open about the fact that he was like Einar. "You don't care? You never thought to take a wife, to have children?"

  "We already have children. You need to meet them. My father needs to decree it. Their relatives agree to them becoming part of our family."

  "And will they?" Artair interrupted.

  "Ja. I already spoke to their grandparents, not long after their father's death. I knew the girl and boy were supposed to be mine."

  "How?"

  "The Seer helped me interpret my dreams, he'd had visions of his own about Jorgen and Mari."

  "That's their names? Jorgen and Mari?"

  "Ja."

  "Jorgen is the four-year-old? Mari's still a baby."

  "She's almost two summers."

  Artair had to stop himself from leaning forward, his body craving touch with his mate. He forced himself to stay focused on the discussion at hand. "Osmend is not like any Seer we have back home."

  "Is he not?"

  "Our Seer's do not withhold information about their visions."

  "That you are aware of."

  Artair considered that. "Mayhap." He had to keep forcing his gaze away from the tempting body of his mate. "So, your Seer told you to adopt the children as your own?"

  "Ja. Their father was a friend, but Osmend told me my dreams meant they were to be mine and that we are to bring them before the stone once I had taken a mate."

  "Do you think it will draw forth their Chrechte nature?"

  "I do not know. Osmend has many reasons for the things he dictates, most of them a mystery to the rest of us."

  "And your father puts up with that?" Artair asked, shocked, but his voice coming out husky and filled with the desire, no matter how much he tried to suppress it.

  Einar's blue gaze said he knew just how much Artair wanted him, but he replied to Artair's words, not his need. "Ja. The Seer is the most powerful among our pride."

  "Even more powerful than the asmundr?" Artair could not imagine.

  Einar leaned down, their foreheads touching. "He can lay hands on a Chrechte and the spirit of the cat will never come forth again."

  Artair shivered at the thought of losing his wolf, his body trembling even harder with how much he needed the other man.

  "Has he ever done that?" he whispered from between dry lips. How did they know the old Chrechte could do such a terrible thing?

  "When he was a child, my father knew of a kotrondmenskr who went feral. Osmend laid hands on the lynx. He shifted back to his human and then he never shifted again."

  Artair rubbed his cheek against Einar's, inhaling his mate's scent. "Surely that is a fate worse than death."

  But truly? The only fate worse than death that he could imagine in that moment was not touching his mate. He fisted his hands against Einar's chest, gritting his teeth against the need to skim his fingers over every bulging muscle.

  "Mayhap, but the Chrechte had killed in his feral madness and would have killed again. It was lose his cat or his life."

  "He chose to lose his cat?" It seemed impossible.

  Artair was not sure he could even survive without his wolf.

  Einar turned his head so their lips were only a breath apart. "Osmend chose, but the Chrechte lived to an old age. I knew him as a boy; he was quiet, but not miserable."

  Artair could not imagine. "I would rather die."

  "He could have asked for death after his mind returned to him. He did not."

  "So, he did choose." Artair wanted to press his lips to Einar's so badly, his muscles locked with the tension of holding back.

  "Ja, I supposed he did." But Einar did not sound like he was thinking about the long ago Chrechte who had lost his cat.

  "Osmend has powers our Seers do not."

  "More than your Seers know they have." Einar's lips brushed against the corner of Artair's mouth.

  Artair shivered again. "Aye."

  A solid, muscular arm came around waist, pressing his body closer to Einar's. "Are you cold, mate?"

  "Nay. It was thinking of the power to separate a Chrechte from his animal," he prevaricated. Surely that was enough to make him shiver in dread, but that tremble had not been anything but suppressed desire.

  Einar purred, the sound so much like his tiger's that it was hard to believe he made it in his human form. "Ja. It is a chilling ability."

  "You smell good," Artair blurted, unable to keep up the pretense of thinking about anything other than his mate any longer, then felt heat suffuse his face.

  Einar growled, pulling Artair into full body contact, their hard sexes pressing together. "You smell like mine."

  "You're very possessive," he whispered, feeling lightheaded from his first sexual contact with another person.

  "And you are not?" Einar asked, not sounding happy at the idea, and entirely too in control of his thoughts for Artair's liking.

  Wasn't his mate as affected by his nearness as he was by Einar's? He let a little of his wolf's growl into his voice as he declared, "If you touched another as you are now touching me, I would rip out his throat."

  "As it should be."

  "You're as bloodthirsty as any Viking of old."

  "Have you no taste for battle?"

  Artair pushed away from his mate. If Einar wanted to continue talking, Artair could not do it with their bodies so aligned.

  Einar's eyes narrowed, he opened his mouth to say something, but Artair put his hand up to stop his mate speaking.

  Taking a deep breath, which did nothing t
o help him clear his head as the scent of his mate only inflamed him further, Artair did his best to think about the question. If anyone one else had asked, he would have denied what would have been an accusation of cowardice. But this was his mate and Einar did not sound disgusted or put off by the idea, only curious.

  Finally, Artair stated, "I will kill to protect my people."

  "Ja. I have no doubt. You are a fine wolf."

  The praise warmed Artair and he found himself relaxing, even as he ached for the return of closeness of being held by his mate. "I do not crave battle or war as some do."

  "I am glad to hear it."

  "You are?" Artair could not hide his surprise.

  Einar frowned, his expression serious, his blue gaze sober. "Senseless death can never be taken lightly by my people. We are too few to seek out conflict for the sake of the joy we find in battle."

  "I find it hard to believe a warrior like you has never been in battle."

  "Oh, I have fought to protect my father's territory, I have killed. But only ever out of necessity. My father does not seek to expand his borders, using force only to maintain them."

  "There would not be much point of expanding into land that cannot be cultivated, sparse woods that would make poor hunting," Artair said, remembering how the land on the outskirts of the jarl's holding had looked when he'd been running as his wolf.

  "Aye, Groenland is not the paradise of riches my ancestor claimed."

  "Eirik the Red was your ancestor?"

  "Aye, a distant one, but related to the royal line of the kotrondmenskr all the same. He settled the eastern town, but eventually all Chrechte moved to this settlement under my father's protection."

  "Why?"

  "Fewer people made for easier hunting in our animal forms, the greater distances between homesteads give us the privacy the kotrondmenskr require."

  "That makes sense." Artair didn't really know what he was saying. He was too busy trying to control the reaction of his body to his mate's nearness.

  It had never been this bad with Gart, he'd never felt a near undeniable urge to touch and be touched. Artair wanted to press his body back against Einar's with a near-feral passion.

  Einar let his possessive gaze travel over Artair, stopping at Artair's tumescent member, his eyes heating. "I smell your arousal, kisa, but that…" He nodded toward Artair's sex. "That tells me you crave me nearly as much as I crave you. I have done my best not to act on my urge to claim you, but if you want a week before you share your body with mine, you will shift and return to our longhouse. Now."