Celtic Moon cw-1

by Jan Delima

  Luc gently removed his arms and steadied her. She looked up and found the dark eyes of her son searching through the mist, no longer the young man that she knew, but still her son asking for acceptance.

  A sob fell from her lips. She didn’t require words to know her child’s needs. Stumbling forward, she dropped by his side and buried her face in the thick fur at his nape. “I love you, sweetheart. No matter what, I’ll always love you.”

  A golden wolf made his way toward her, a silent presence in the hovering fog, watching. At some point while Luc had shielded her, Dylan had transformed along with their son. A pair of briefs remained tangled around his shanks.

  Pulling away, Joshua took a step forward, crumpled to the ground, then stood again on unsteady legs. He took another step, stronger this time, more balanced.

  His struggle gripped her heart. A desperate question fell unbidden from her lips . . . “He can change back, right?” Oh, God . . . what if he was stuck forever as a wolf? She turned to Luc and Elen, the ones who could answer. “Please tell me he can change back.”

  The ground shivered beneath her as Joshua lowered his head. He was trying to change, for her, because he had sensed her fear. Dylan brushed between them, pushing Sophie away with a growl of warning.

  “Joshua can change back,” Elen reassured her. “But he needs to run first. He needs to learn this new form.”

  “Okay.” Sophie felt soft fur brush her arm, followed by a heavy weight crowding against her. Her son. The familiar gesture gave her strength. “Go. Run with your father. Do what you have to do.”

  As acknowledgment, Dylan gave her a low bow.

  “Go,” she said again. “I will be at Rhuddin Hall when you return.”

  With one final nod, he nudged Joshua toward the woods.

  Elen gave an impatient sigh as the two wolves disappeared. “You can go too,” she said to Luc. “I know you want to.”

  Silver eyes flashed in the darkness. Luc paced in front of Sophie, back and forth, agitated with indecision. “Will you stay with Elen? Will you listen to her?”

  “I would greatly appreciate the company,” Sophie said quietly.

  “Just go, Luc,” Elen urged with happiness in her voice. “Run with our nephew.”

  “Protect her,” Luc ordered, tugging his shirt over his head. He was down to his jeans before he hit the first line of trees.

  Elen laughed and opened her arms, turning in a circle. “This is a joyous night.” She stumbled to a stop, pulling Sophie into a hug. “I’m calling everyone to Rhuddin Hall. We must celebrate.”

  “How long before they return?” Sophie asked, too worried to share in Elen’s excitement.

  “A few hours at least.”

  A tingle of awareness tightened along Sophie’s spine as they made their journey back to Rhuddin Hall. As they approached the outer gate, just before the first line of trees opened to gravel, humans and wolves stepped onto the trail. It was as if the forest bled a hundred magical beings, kissed by moonlight and disguised by shadows.

  Sophie froze; her hand fell to her side, ready to reach for her gun if necessary—or the Serpent. She carried both, hidden under the folds of her loose jacket. There were more humans than wolves, three to one at least, but somehow those odds didn’t ease her concern.

  A twinge of pain lanced through her head, a brief pounding behind her eyes before a now-familiar voice intruded in her thoughts. Be at peace, Sophie Marie Thibodeau, came its whisper, for all you love is safe this night.

  “They’re friendly,” Elen reassured her.

  Flexing her hands, Sophie made a conscious effort to mentally push at the unwanted voice. A hiss resonated through her mind, then the presence retreated.

  With a sigh, some of her tension eased. “Dylan promised me the guards would stay hidden.”

  “Not all of Dylan’s people are guards,” Elen explained patiently. “These are our friends, families who live in the village.”

  Okay. Fine. Sophie could handle that. She even let her hands fall to her sides. These were the men and women that Dylan protected . . . the ones who had sought sanctuary from the Guardians. “What do they want?”

  “They’ve been waiting to hear about Joshua.” Elen turned toward the gathering crowd. “Dylan’s son runs as a wolf,” she announced. “And you are all invited to Rhuddin Hall to celebrate this blessed night.”

  Collective whispers hummed through the group, chanting the same word, “Dewisedig.” Slowly, the mass of bodies parted, forming two rows on either side of Sophie and Elen. Wolves bowed their heads while humans began to kneel.

  “Um.” Sophie leaned over to Elen. “What’s going on? Why do they keep saying that word?”

  “They’re honoring you,” she explained. “Dewisedig comes from our old tongue. It is a name I have not heard in a very long time. It means chosen human.”

  “Oh.” Sophie chewed on that for a moment. “What if I don’t want to be chosen?”

  She gave a delicate shrug, an elegant way of saying, Deal with it. “You have given birth to the first shifter in over three hundred years. It is a blessing to our people that you cannot begin to comprehend.”

  * * *

  BACK AT RHUDDIN HALL, LAUGHTER AND MUSIC HUMMED through the main floor as Sophie snuck upstairs to check on her mother, knocking softly.

  “Come in,” Francine said. “Oh, Sophie, finally . . . You’re back. How is Joshua?”

  “He’s fine,” Sophie quickly reassured her. “He’s still with his father.”

  “So, it happened?”

  She nodded silently.

  With brown eyes filled with concern, Francine assessed her daughter, opening her arms. “Come here, sweetheart.”

  Without hesitation, she fell into her mother’s waiting embrace. This was exactly what she’d needed, a little support from the one person who accepted her without conditions. “It was so hard, Mum, watching him go through that . . . and not being able to help.”

  “I can only imagine,” Francine said, tucking back a strand of Sophie’s hair. “Honestly, I’m glad I wasn’t there to see it, but I’m proud of you. And I’m proud of how you’re trying to work things out with Joshua’s father.”

  She hiccupped. “Thanks.”

  “Shh,” her mother soothed. “Do you know when they’re supposed to return?”

  “Elen assures me they’ll be back any time now. And not to worry because everything is fine.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then take peace in that.”

  “You’re right.” Feeling recharged, Sophie absorbed one last hug before she pulled away. “Thank you . . . for not listening to me when I wanted you to stay behind.”

  “I love you, Sophie Marie, with all my heart; I will stand by your side until my very last breath. Don’t ever doubt that. Now go clean your face and march downstairs and celebrate with everyone else. I’ll be down soon.”

  Listening to her mother’s sound advice, she changed into dress slacks with a fitted rose-colored jacket. The Serpent made an unattractive bulge underneath, but it was the most formal outfit she’d brought with her and would have to do. She even applied some makeup before returning to the merriment below.

  Platters of food had been placed on the dining hall table, roasted meats and breads filled with stew, along with cakes and wine on side tables. Humans and wolves filled the house, more than Sophie had ever seen together at one time.

  Enid barked orders to anyone who walked through the kitchen, pushing edible treats toward those who had hands. Those who did not had their own table positioned against the wall, about two feet high. Tucker and two other wolves seemed to be enjoying their own personal buffet.

  Porter nodded at her as she passed through the outer hallway. He wore a black button-down shirt, rolled up to the elbows. He stood with his shoulders back, his sharp blue eyes scanning the area. “Will you take a walk with me around the gardens?” When she hesitated, he added, “You’re looking like a dose
of fresh air might do you some good.”

  She stared at his offered arm, wondering why she had the sudden urge to smile. Maybe the people in Rhuddin Village weren’t the only ones making progress.

  “Oh, hell . . . Why not?” She wrapped her arm through his, not surprised by the coiled muscles underneath the thin black material, having felt them once before on a less celebratory occasion.

  The night air washed over her like a soothing balm, fresh and uncluttered with voices. Porter led her down a cobblestone path, his posture tense as Tucker’s soft padded steps followed.

  “Do you want to pet him?” she teased, amazed that she felt at ease enough to do so.

  “Hardly.”

  “Where are we going?” They had arrived at a secluded section of the courtyard, with arbors and pergolas built overhead, tangled with rose canes and ivy branches. The night sky was shrouded, as was the interior to anything that might dwell above, such as cameras or satellites in the sky. A tall hedge of evergreens formed a dense wall.

  It was a private garden with a distinct purpose, she realized, designed for a race to walk as their other selves and remain undiscovered to an outside world.

  “Dylan wanted to see you alone,” Porter said. “Before the crowd descends.”

  A massive wolf prowled under the canopy first, his black fur blending with the night. A brown wolf, lighter in color and smaller in size, followed.

  “Joshua?” she whispered. “Oh, thank God. Are you all right?”

  “He’s fine, Sophie.” Dylan stepped forward from behind a cluster of pine trees, having changed back into his human form. They must have stopped by the oak tree before returning, as he wore the same clothes he had on before shifting, carrying the others’ in his hands. “Our son learns well and adjusts quickly.” He paused while his voice clogged with emotion, with reverence. “This night was a gift I never thought possible.”

  “I’m glad for you both,” she said with sincerity. If this ability made Joshua stronger, better able to defend himself around others of his kind, she would learn to be thankful. “But why have you changed back and Joshua hasn’t?”

  “I would like our people to witness his transformation, but I wanted your agreement beforehand.”

  “You’re asking me?” She frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I know how difficult this is for you to accept. But it would mean a great deal to them. And to me.”

  “And what if I disagree?”

  His shoulders sagged with acceptance. “Then Luc will help Joshua shift right now before we go into the house.”

  “I see.” Not caring who watched, Sophie closed the distance between them. She trailed her arms around Dylan’s neck, smiling at his bewildered expression, and pulled him down to meet her mouth. “If our son is okay with a demonstration,” she whispered against her husband’s lips, “you have my blessing to invite them out to watch.”

  “You are the most perplexing woman,” he said, then tightened his arms around her waist and claimed her mouth with a possessive kiss. When she began to respond in earnest, he set her back down, shaking his head. His voice lowered to a harsh whisper, letting her know she wasn’t the only one affected. “Will I ever understand you?”

  “Respect my opinion, Dylan, keep me informed, and you may find I can be the most cooperative wife.”

  A bark of laughter fell from his mouth. “I will remember that, Sophie.”

  Porter cleared his throat. “If you two are quite finished now,” he said dryly, “I will go inside and invite the others out.”

  Dylan reached down and took Sophie’s hand within his. They stood united as their guests filed down the darkened path with expectant faces, some filled with hope, others with doubt. Wolves bled from the woods, joining the gathering of magic born. Voices murmured in hushed anticipation. All eyes fell to Joshua.

  Luc sauntered forward, all black fur and coiled muscle; he was the beast of legend in flesh and fur. Still shrouded by the canopy of gardens, Luc led Joshua by example, shifting to his human form. His transition was smooth, like a dance of two forms blending into one, and then forming into another. The scent of elements filled the air, of spring and earth and promise, more prominent as Joshua bowed his head and began his journey back to human.

  She held her breath to the sound of breaking bone and muffled moans. Having witnessed this once before didn’t ease her torment, however her reaction to her child’s pain became easier to hide. As she stood unmoving, Dylan found her hand and brought it to his mouth, uncurling her fist to place a kiss inside her palm.

  A quiet calm settled around the moonlit garden. Luc stood proud as he watched his nephew complete the transformation. Joshua unfolded into a standing position, naked and keeping his head down. Before long, he cleared his throat and tested his voice.

  “Ah, Mom,” he said, holding out his arm. “Would you throw me my jeans?”

  A great burden of worry eased from Sophie’s chest, made verbal by an uncontrollable sigh of relief. “Sure.” She looked around and found the blue material bunched by her feet where Dylan must have dropped it. She scooped up the jeans and tossed them in Joshua’s direction. Although she wanted to go to him, she kept her distance, allowing her son to be seen as a man who didn’t need a hovering mother.

  “And just so you know,” he added, catching the pants with one hand and pulling them back on with swift movements, “I can hear and see everything when I’m a wolf. I’m really happy you and Dad are getting along so well, but jeez . . . can you keep it behind closed doors next time?”

  Twenty-four

  THE GAIETY OF THE NIGHT DWINDLED INTO A SOMBER morning, wrought with drizzling rain and unsettled skies as villagers returned to their homes and prepared for the gathering. Dylan had yet to spend time alone with Sophie, having devoted the last few hours to Luc and the guards reviewing security before the other leaders’ arrival.

  After a quick search of his home, he found his wife in their bedroom, staring out the window. She sat in a large wingback chair, watching the courtyard below.

  She looked up when he approached and offered a brief smile. “You just missed Joshua. He and Malsum are doing more exercises with the sword you gave him. You should be able to catch up with them in the courtyard.”

  Dylan walked over to the side of the chair and covered her hand with his. “It’s you I’ve come to see. Did you manage to sleep any?”

  “Some. More than you, I think.” Her gaze dropped to her lap and her voice softened. “I missed you last night.”

  Her shy admission made his body respond with uncomfortable vigor. “No more than I missed you,” he assured her, adjusting his stance. “I was needed—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” she interrupted with a frown. “I understand your responsibilities will keep you occupied, especially now.”

  In an effort to expel a burden of emotion, Dylan shook his head, wondering if he would ever get used to having—how had she phrased it?—a cooperative wife. He stroked her cold fingers until she relaxed. “There are no words to express what last night meant to me,” he whispered. “I’d never allowed myself to hope that I would run with our son.”

  She tugged her hand out of his grasp, only to rest it on the side of his face. “Make him strong, Dylan. Teach him how to defend himself against these Guardians.”

  “I will,” he vowed. It was a promise he had given before, and would give as many times as needed, knowing he would honor his word by making Joshua the strongest warrior of their kind. And still, for her, it may never be enough, because danger would always darken their lives.

  Her hand fell to her lap and plucked at the folds of her pants, a nervous gesture that betrayed her worry. “When do you expect the leaders to begin arriving?”

  “This evening, after sunset.” He allowed his gaze to travel down her body, appreciative of how the plain T-shirt and sweatpants hugged her curves. He frowned, noting the slight bulge against her hip. “I will ask that you not run tomorrow morning, as I am sensin
g this thing you do is a daily routine.”

  “It keeps me in shape,” she informed him with only a hint of annoyance in her voice. “But I’ll stop until you tell me it’s safe to start again.”

  “You’re wearing your gun,” he pointed out. “And not the Serpent.”

  “It’s in the box. I did wear it while running, along with my gun, which, I will admit, was a bit cumbersome.” She gave an unrepentant shrug. “I’m used to my gun. It’s instinctive for me to carry it.”

  Frustration tightened his chest but he kept his voice calm. “There is a reason I trained you to use the Serpent,” he explained. “In battle against a shifter, the only thing your gun will do is anger your enemy.”

  “I shoot with hollow-point bullets,” she challenged.

  Her confidence in her weapon of choice only fueled his fear. “To kill a shifter, their heart or head must be completely severed from their body. If not, we will shift and regenerate in the process. Even when unconscious, even when we are shredded, exposed or limbless, our beasts will rise and suck the very life that surrounds us to survive.”

  She frowned, seeming more confused than concerned. Would he ever understand this woman?

  “But Joshua’s wolf remained dormant,” she questioned. “And you said it was because his environment was constantly changing . . . because he felt threatened.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” He gentled his voice but pressed his point. “But only until an initial shift occurs, and when that happens our wolves are not hindered by anything, and are often difficult to control. You must change your strategy of protection.”

  She nodded without comment.

  Not entirely confident that he had convinced her, he added for insurance, “The only person your gun will harm is you, or others of our kind who cannot shift to heal.” He gave a bitter laugh. “And that will only serve the Guardians’ ultimate goal—”

  “Okay,” she interrupted. “I get it. It will be an adjustment for me, but I will try.”

  It was as much of a concession as he was going to get, he realized. “I want you to wear the Serpent, even while in our home.”