“Anything, my beautiful Huntress.”

“Show me how to become one in the flesh with you.”

Wordlessly Cuchulainn took her hand and led her to their pallet, which they had not moved from the middle of the labyrinth. As she walked across the cave her steps became more sure, and though she missed the power of her natural form, she was able to appreciate the capacity for grace in her woman’s body. She lay beside her husband and, filled with curiosity and wonder, she let her hands caress her naked body, learning how it responded to touch and finding the small secret spots that were especially sensitive.

“My skin is so soft. It amazes me,” Brighid said. “I had no idea it would be like this.” She smiled up at Cuchulainn who had propped himself on his elbow beside her and was watching as she explored herself.

“You make me breathless,” he said huskily.

“Don’t lose your breath,” she murmured, taking his hand and guiding it to her thigh. “If you can’t breathe, how will you tell me about the pleasures of this new body?”

He moaned her name and whispered against her lips, “I’ll show you.”

But he didn’t just show her. As he touched her with his hands and mouth he spoke to her, asking what caress she most preferred and where and how his touch pleased her. His hands, roughened by years of swordplay, felt sensuous against the smoothness of her skin and Brighid found that she could not get enough of the feel of that roughness cupping the softness of her buttocks. When his mouth moved to her core and tasted fully of her, she did not look away, but watched him as he finally learned what she had known before him-the joy of a lover’s pleasure.

When she was slick and ready for him, he entered her gently, allowing her time to stretch and receive him. And then they linked hands as they began the ageless give and take of lovemaking. She arched to meet him, reveling in the knowledge that their bodies had finally been able to experience what their souls had already known-the joining of two. When he cried her name and spilled his seed into her she held him close and crested the wave of sensation with him.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

“Changing back is much easier,” Brighid said, twitching her tail and stomping her hooves as if she was worried that something might not have completely transformed back to equine shape.

“It’s amazing,” Cu said. “All these years and I have never once seen my father shapeshift.” He gave her a lopsided, boyish grin. “Although there were a couple of times when I burst into my mother’s chamber and he was there in man form.” He chuckled. “It never failed to surprise me. The last time I was about ten or eleven, and I couldn’t really see him very well. I remember thinking that some stranger had gone mad and was ravishing her, so I brandished my not particularly dangerous wooden practice sword and yelled for him to unhand the Goddess Incarnate.”

“What did he do?” Brighid asked, smiling.

“He looked up at me and said, ‘Later, boy, right now your mother and I are rather busy.’” Cuchulainn shook his head. “But that wasn’t the worst of it. My yelling brought my mother’s palace guards running-they don’t take the ravishing of the Chosen of Epona lightly. There followed an embarrassing several moments that my father didn’t find amusing. At all. When the ‘later’ came he sat me down and had a very long, very detailed talk with me about husbands and wives and lovemaking in general. He also explained to me in detail why he had to shapeshift, and why when he did it was a very private moment between my mother and him.”

Brighid tried unsuccessfully to smother her laughter. “That sounds like a very awkward conversation.”

“It wasn’t a conversation. He talked-I listened. Then he asked me if I had any questions.”

“Did you?”

Cuchulainn snorted. “Are you kidding? I was completely embarrassed, besides that all I could think of was why in the name of the Goddess anyone would want to do the things he was describing-and even if he did-why my mother would tolerate them.”

Brighid’s laughter turned into unexpectedly girlish giggles. “Stop, you’re hurting me.”

He smiled at her, wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed her soundly.

“I do remember in particular one of the things my father explained to me about shapeshifting during that awkward lecture.”

She raised a silver brow.

“He said a High Shaman can only maintain another shape for a limited amount of time.”

Brighid nodded. “It is common knowledge that a High Shaman must return to her natural form in no longer than the span of one night.”

“Is it also common knowledge that once a High Shaman has returned to her natural form that it takes at least the span of another day for her body to reenergize?”

“No.” Brighid looked surprised. “That part is not well-known.” She let out a long, frustrated sigh. “There’s so much I don’t know, Cu. I feel the change within me, and I sense the world around me in a different way. But I know so little about how to wield this new power.”

“Go easy on yourself. Most High Shamans have prepared for years, and are still being mentored by another High Shaman.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t have a mentor.”

“One step at a time, my beautiful Huntress, one step at a time. First you reclaim your birthright. Then you find a mentor. It just so happens that your husband does have connections with at least one High Shaman, and I can promise you that he would be more than willing to mentor his daughter-in-law.” Cuchulainn grinned at her.

She draped her arm around his broad shoulders and nuzzled his ear. “Who knew a man would be such a good thing to have around?”

He chuckled and kissed her. “Don’t tell the other centaur Huntresses-they’ll all want one of their own.”

She bit his neck and he gave a little yelp. They both laughed.

Then Cuchulainn sobered and touched the side of her cheek. “I was serious about what my father said, Brighid. A High Shaman’s body is depleted after shapeshifting, so you take care today. Don’t push yourself and don’t expect too much from your body.”

“I’m just hunting deer. I could do that even as a woman-I think,” she added with a quick smile.

“Hunt your deer carefully. By the time you gut it and bring it back here I should have found that damned gelding.”

“I can help you find that damned gelding of yours,” Brighid said.

“I’m sure you could track him in half the time, my beautiful, talented Huntress, but we need the fresh meat, so I’ll have to muddle through without your expertise.”

“I don’t have to come with you, Cu. I just have to-” She rolled her eyes when his amused expression turned guarded and strained. “Cuchulainn,” she said sternly, “you’re married to a High Shaman. You’re going to have to get used to my evoking aid from the Otherworld.” She shrugged her shoulders and smiled a little sheepishly. “I have to get used to it myself.”

He sighed and raised her hand to his lips. “You’re right. And, yes, my beautiful Huntress, I would welcome your help.”

“Just give me a moment and don’t-”

“I know,” he said laughingly, “don’t distract you.”

She gave him an exasperated look before closing her eyes and grounding herself with three deep, even breaths. Then she thought about Cuchulainn’s gelding-the sturdy, well-trained mount her husband depended upon…and quickly, much more quickly than she was used to, that extra innate sense that had always helped her track animals rushed from her body in a wave of sweeping power. Almost instantly she was drawn to a place not far from their cave where a lone dark blue spirit light burned steadily. The gelding. By the Goddess, that was easy! Then another, smaller, spirit light very near the gelding caught her attention, and she focused on it, wondering at its energetic golden aura, and suddenly she understood what she was seeing and wanted to laugh aloud. She almost broke the trance immediately so she could tell Cuchulainn, but the pull of other spirit lights called to her.