Page 42 of Moon Craving

He shrugged. "They are English."

"I am English."

"You are mine."

"I suppose I am." She looked surprised by her own acknowledgment.

"Do you still fear?"

"A little."

He nodded. "That is to be expected in your innocence, but I will take care of you.

Starting now."

She flinched but said nothing. And then nodded resolutely.

"Stand up."

She gave him a questioning look but obeyed.

He pulled the knife from his boot. It was sharper than the one he kept on his belt.

She took a step back, but confusion rather than fear showed in her eyes.

He put his hand out over the right spot on the sheet and then cut a thin, short line

down his palm. Her mouth was open, but no sound escaped as she stared in

uncomprehending fascination as drops of his blood decorated the sheet.

"Your mother wants the blood proof. I will give it to her, but I will not claim you on

the land of another."

Abigail nodded as understanding, and then relief, settled over her lovely features.

She gave him an intense look and stuck her hand out. "Cut me, too."

Very little had the power to shock him, but her offer slammed into him like a blow

from Niall. "It is not necessary."

"It is."

He shook his head.

She stubbornly put her hand right over his, palm up. "We share in this as we will

share in the other. Later."

His entire body reacted to her touch and the unexpected words coming from

between her innocent lips. A growl of approval came from the wolf, and Talorc acquiesced

with a jerk of his head.

He laid his knife against her small, white palm. "You are sure?"