Autumn Moon

by Jan Delima

  “What if we choose to stay,” another voice called out. The person who spoke was new, a man with a long scar that ran from his left eye across his nose. Fourteen of Pendaran’s former servants had requested sanctuary, including Leri. Sadly, the rest had refused and traveled to Maelor’s.

  “Then you will be trained to fight,” Dylan returned. “You will be given a home and weapons, and you will learn to defend your families from anyone who means you harm.” Taking his wife’s hand in his, he walked to where Elen and Cormack stood. “Alise’s office will be open all week. You have seven days to decide.”

  At the end of the week, Alise issued eighty-four new identities to descendants of an immortal race beginning a life hidden among humans, and they were sent away with genuine salutes for success and peace on their new journeys.

  Four hundred thirty-seven remained to defend a territory rich with life and freedom, for a leader who demanded only what he and his family had already given.

  * * *

  The baby creature was not happy to be tucked inside Cormack’s jacket. “Be patient, little one, you will like where you’re going.”

  He received a whispered hiss in response as tiny claws punctured his chest. The kitten had come from a litter in the village that needed homes now that their providers had left to start a new life. Born in October, it was eight weeks old, with yellow tiger stripes and golden eyes. Its mother had grown accustomed to the scent of wolves, or perhaps the scent of their kind that didn’t hunt felines.

  The cottage was dark when he entered, the fire in the grate the only source of light. The kettle that Elen used for mixing tonics rested on the floor, cold and empty. No herbs had bubbled over that fire since she returned. Mae’s betrayal continued to poison her joy, and might be the hardest for Elen to overcome. Common activities brought sadness with memories. She tried to bury them and move on, he knew, but this pain bled from the heart and needed time. She had called Avon to make sure Gareth continued to look after Saran, but she wasn’t ready to return.

  At the moment, she sat in the gathering room with a blanket over her lap. A book rested on the arm of her chair as if she’d been trying to read but couldn’t concentrate.

  “Hi,” Elen said, offering a smile. “Did you get what you needed from the village?”

  “I did.” Placing his hands on the arms of the chair, he leaned forward and captured her mouth. She sighed into his embrace, her lips parting to deepen the kiss, reaching her arms around his neck to pull him down farther.

  The kitten issued an outraged meow.

  And Elen froze, her gaze snapping up to his. A spark of wonder entered winter blue eyes and a few shadows were chased away. “What have you done?”

  Reaching inside his jacket, he retrieved the bundle of yellow fur and placed it on her lap. “There are other homes she can go to if you don’t think she’ll fit well with us.”

  “Oh, Cormack . . .” She scooped the kitten up. It blinked at her with curiosity, turned and settled into the crook of her arm, batting at the strings of the knitted blanket that dangled like potential prey. The kitten pounced a second later, and then rolled back into Elen’s lap. Soft laughter filled the air. “I think she’ll fit perfectly.”

  Cormack closed his eyes to that sound, savoring it for the gift it was. “Ms. Hafwen might pox me when she returns.”

  “I’m not sure if she will return,” Elen said.

  “I am,” he told her, lifting her chin. “She came in winter to help me find you, and she will come again this spring.”

  And before then he planned to chase away more shadows.

  * * *

  A white blanket of snow covered Emerald Moss Trail. The hound barked with excitement, sensing his presence. Taliesin sat with his back against a birch tree bowing with the weight of winter. The tree reminded him of Elen, who lived at the end of this trail. Ice coated her soul as it did her forest. In time they would thaw and reach for the sun.

  “Tucker,” Sophie called, chasing the hound that refused to keep her pace.

  The crunching snow warned of her and Dylan’s approach. He stayed, waiting for the moment they saw him.

  “Taliesin?” Dylan offered a hand for him to stand. “Bloody hell, where have you been?”

  He shrugged. “Around.”

  “Are you okay?” Sophie hugged him, as he knew she would. “I’ve been worried about you.” She leaned back, searching his face with welcoming brown eyes. “Are you staying?”

  “I can’t.” He stepped back because her offer was too tempting.

  Dylan’s chest fell with a weary sigh. “Then why are you here, Taliesin?”

  He shrugged. “I’m enjoying the quiet between storms.” Taliesin ruffled Tucker’s ear and turned to leave. “I’m glad you won this battle, warrior,” he called over his shoulder.

  “But how many others will we have to fight?” Dylan challenged back.

  More than you want to know. But Taliesin kept that premonition to himself. There were other visions of their future that offered a balance to the dark times ahead. One in particular would arrive soon. A babe conceived under summer’s first moon would take her first breath in the arms of her aunt.

  Not all his predictions ended in darkness.

  But they all must be allowed to unfold without his interference. Taliesin needed that reminder now more than ever, and he combed his mind’s eye for a diversion before his yearning for family and companionship lured him to stay. Fleeting nights with strangers made his loneliness more acute. As he disappeared into the forest, a vision came, one from the not-so-distant past, oddly enough.

  Leri was not the only thief of keys.

  With bloodlust and revenge driving his beast, Dylan had crouched along the dark hallways of Castell Avon, unaware of the true identity of the scared Hen Was who’d addressed him from the shadows . . .

  * * *

  “You are Dylan ap Merin,” Maelorwen said.

  “Yes.”

  A curious glint sharpened her glare. “I see death in your eyes, warrior, but also honor. Is it Math you’ve come to claim, or our Rosa?”

  “Math.” Denial, he sensed, would only delay his intent.

  A contorted smile turned the unscarred side of her mouth. “Then you are correct . . . this single slave and a locked door won’t keep you from your task. But I will have your word you’ll not harm our mistress.”

  “Or what?” he challenged.

  “For what,” she corrected, holding up a stainless steel key, an oddity amongst a manufactured illusion of medieval grandeur. “Take who you’ve come for, warrior, and leave the others be.”

  “Agreed.”

  * * *

  The vision left as quickly as it had come. Taliesin inhaled a deep breath of crisp air to clear the images that followed. Dylan had learned Maelorwen’s identity after Luc had claimed Avon and its recently widowed queen.

  When Maelorwen had given Dylan a key, she’d allowed him entrance to Math’s private chambers without detection, and in that singular act, she had set the course for their future.

  If Dylan or even Mae had known what their actions would bring about, it might have influenced their decisions and caused other outcomes. Rosa would never have sought Luc for help, a vision too clear and unclouded not to be a potential reality. Their child would never have been conceived.

  No, Taliesin thought with bitterness coating his throat, I cannot interfere.

  He couldn’t be a part of their lives, or anyone else’s. Not truly. He couldn’t love or be loved, for he would destroy this world to have such a precious thing.

  After all, he was the son of the Crone.

  Thirty-four

  Cormack knew the very moment when the magic returned to their cottage and Elen’s spirit gleamed with happiness once again. The scent of cinnamon, nutmeg and cider simmered from the iron crock in the hearth. It was the seas
on for holidays and wishes and for yuletide cookies by crackling fires. And his wish came true with the healing of her soul.

  She held an armful of fresh holly boughs, and her cheeks glowed from being outdoors. Holding the door wide, she ducked under his arm and he snuck a kiss on her frosty lips. Golden curls framed her face as she laughed, and winter remained outside instead of in her gaze.

  Closing the door, he waited while she dumped her holiday greenery on the counter, kicked off her boots and hung her coat and gloves in the entryway. Their baby tiger, officially named Greta, immediately pounced on the shoelaces and tried to climb into the nearest empty boot, her tail slashing as her head disappeared.

  “Cormack,” Elen gasped in surprise as he scooped her up in his arms, and then just as quickly her body melted into his. “Please tell me you’re finally taking me to bed.”

  The emphasis on the finally made him chuckle. “I’ve taken you to bed every night.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do,” he whispered against her lips, “and I am, because you’re ready now.”

  “I’ve been ready,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Now I’m neglected and you’re going to have to work for it.”

  “That sounds like more of a reward than a challenge,” he warned. As he walked her up the stairs, her mouth played havoc with his balance, nipping along his chest. Letting her slide down his length, he ordered, “Arms up.”

  Heat sparked in her gaze as she complied, helping him with her pants and under things until she stood before him nude. Her curves had filled back in, and her breasts tightened under his gaze.

  A slow grin tugged at his lips. “Beautiful.”

  “Arms up,” she challenged in return, only she lingered with her mouth on the areas she unclothed. Her breath hitched as he shrugged off his pants, his desire for her revealed in eager lengths. They tumbled together onto the bed, and he rolled so she was on her back.

  “Now, I believe you said I needed to work for this.” He claimed her mouth, absorbing her soft sighs, and then ran his lips down her neck and to her breasts, taking the tender peaks into his mouth.

  “I lied,” she gasped, writhing under him. “I’m ready now, Cormack.” Her legs opened wider, and she arched up to take him inside her. “I need you.”

  He slid down, nipping kisses over her stomach. “I’m not sure.”

  “I’m sure.” Her hands clawed at his hair, trying to pull him back up.

  He kissed the inside of her knee first, and she stilled. Then he kissed her inner thigh, and a shudder followed.

  “Cormack?” Suspicion hung in her voice, but also excitement.

  “I want to kiss you here.” He ran his fingers along her core, finding the nub of flesh she taught him how to pleasure, circling gently. “May I?”

  A whimper fell from her mouth. “Yes.” Her legs opened wider to give him better access.

  So sweet she was, and soft under his tongue. He repeated the motion he’d learned she liked best, over and over without relent. Her legs began to tremble a moment before she arched, and he felt her release as her body convulsed and she collapsed, sated.

  He placed his arms on either side of her and rose, keeping his full weight off of her body. Her eyes fluttered open, filled with contentment, and love, and trust. She was everything to him, his heart and his happiness.

  “I am yours and you are mine.” He entered slowly, gritting his teeth against the heat that threatened his control.

  As always, she enflamed his beast, rocking up when he would be gentle. “I am yours and you are mine.”

  Her pleasure rose a second time, he felt it with the gripping of her sheath, and like once before, he sensed the rising of her wolf. His beast unfurled, wanting to tie their spirits as he joined their bodies. She felt it too, or he knew she must, because her teeth grazed his neck, nipped once and then sunk into his flesh.

  The claiming triggered his release. A growl rumbled from his throat as he arched, spilling his seed in a wave of pleasure so deep his spine ached from its force. Her cries echoed his as she unraveled a second time beneath him.

  Afterward he collapsed on his back, dragging her against his side.

  Her cheek rested against his heart. “I hope . . .” The wish fell unfinished from her lips.

  But he knew what it was, because he knew her. “As do I, but even if we are not blessed with a child, I have you.”

  And Elen was more than enough to make his life complete.

  * * *

  A winter babe chose to arrive a week early, in a blizzard. Cormack drove Elen as soon as they received the call, but traffic moved slowly due to whiteout conditions, and it took almost seven hours to reach New Hampshire. Elen’s last memory of Avon had been in Mae’s kitchen, but her heart clenched in remembrance instead of pain as she crossed Avon’s bridge. Anger poisoned the giver more than the receiver, and she’d finally come to that place of peace.

  Almost everyone had gathered in the great hall, offering genuine welcomes. Many of the guards sat on the long table, sipping tankards of ale as they waited for news.

  Gareth greeted her with a smile, folding her into a tight hug that lifted her off her feet, a gregarious gesture from a once stoic man. “You have no idea how good it is to see you again.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” she said. “Is Rosa in her chambers?”

  When Gareth nodded and set her down, Cormack wove his fingers within hers, claiming a kiss. “I’ll walk you up and then wait it out down here with the rest.”

  He had lingering memories, she realized, and wasn’t ready to let her walk about the halls alone. “I would like that.”

  The door to Rosa’s chamber was closed. She knocked before entering, and Cormack nodded a hasty farewell as soon as he glimpsed the scene within. Cadan, Rosa’s cousin, sat on the floor with his legs spread wide as Rosa used his chest as a backrest. Her mead-colored hair had been braided back. Sweat-soaked tendrils had escaped and matted to her forehead. Luc crouched between her bent thighs, whispering soothing words as a contraction gripped her stomach. Rosa wasn’t a screamer, but her face mottled bright red and a moan fell from her lips as she rode the wave.

  Luc’s relief when he saw Elen was palpable. Cadan’s even more.

  “The last hour has been the worst,” both men shared at once.

  “She won’t stay on the bed.” Cadan’s steady gaze beseeched Elen for help. “Said it’s too soft.”

  Bethan had made a makeshift pallet with blankets and towels over the rug, or Elen assumed it was her because she hovered by the door with more towels in her arms.

  “That’s fine.” Elen spoke to Rosa as she opened her medical bag, which held the items she needed. “I’m going to check where the baby’s head is positioned.”

  Luc scooted back for her to take his place. Children were so rare among their kind. Almost all of Elen’s experience came from delivering human babes while in school. Rosa was fully dilated and the baby’s head had begun to descend. This was clearly a human birth; a Bleidd was born in a membrane sac like pups.

  “Rosa,” Elen ordered in a firm but gentle voice, “next contraction I want you to push as hard as you can.”

  With eyes squeezed shut, she nodded. Luc moved to take his mate’s hand, whispering encouragements through her labors. Five contractions later, the head crowned, and Elen shifted the shoulders to ease the babe out on an angle. “More towels,” she ordered Bethan, who immediately slipped them under the babe as Elen quickly removed the placenta and cord.

  A healthy wail filled the halls of Castell Avon, followed by distant cheers. Her niece’s first breath of life resonated with strength and power. Elen placed the babe, her ink-black hair curled around scrunched features, in her parents’ arms, and then rested her hand on Luc’s shoulder. “She’s beautiful.”

  The two men nodded in agreement. Tears
fell without shame.

  It was customary for mothers to shift after birth to heal, those who could, but Rosa turned to smile at her cousin instead. “Will you get Audrey so she can meet her new sister?”

  There was no shadow dark enough to steal the light of this day.

  * * *

  At the end of the storm came a quiet night in a white-cloaked valley. Glints of moonlight sparkled on the snow-covered trees as Elen followed two wolves, one brown and the other red. Gareth and Cormack had shifted to run, while she required snowshoes for the journey. She carried a basket of food and woolen blankets. Cormack rarely took the form of his wolf, having been trapped for so long, and she enjoyed watching him run through the snow.

  They traveled through a private reserve the residents of Castell Avon had purchased, a secret haven during the time of their former Guardian’s reign. It was an hour’s hike from the road to reach the makeshift homes built in hills and behind trees. Soon the hidden nook came into view, and Gareth broke away to issue a howl to warn of his approach.

  A black wolf padded onto the trail, her legs sinking into the snow; she halted once she noticed Gareth wasn’t alone. Her lips peeled back to reveal canines as a low growl emerged.

  “Hello,” Elen said, making a clumsy approach with the wooden webbed shoes. Her legs burned with exhaustion from the hike. “I believe your name is Saran.”

  The wolf quieted but watched with wary golden eyes.

  “My name is Elen.” Gareth and Cormack flanked Elen’s sides, sending a message without words that she was a friend. “I was taken by Pendaran and placed in a stone cell below Hochmead.” She shared this only to let the Bleidd know she understood her plight. “I believe you know of this place.”

  The black wolf sat, tilted her head. Her fur glinted like the coat of a mink under shimmering stars. According to Gareth, she refused to be near confined spaces, so he’d showed her this reserve, where she could easily escape but also seek shelter from the cold. He had earned her trust.