Latchling Blood Moon: A Cassidy Edwards Novella - Book 3.5

by Carmen Caine

  “Aye, I swear it,” he agreed, planting a kiss on my forehead.

  My heart fell and tears threatened. “Then go now,” I whispered hoarsely. “May you live long and stay well. I will not watch you leave.” As I turned away, the tears slipped down my cheeks.

  But Dorian wasn’t mine to control. “Ach, you wee fool,” he rumbled, turning me around. “I’ll have my farewell kiss first.”

  He wiped my tears gently with his thumb and then kissed me in the gentlest of ways. It broke my heart. Oh, how I wanted to cling to him, beg him not to go, but I knew well that destiny was not a thing a mere mortal could control. I kissed him back, but too quickly, he pulled away, preparing to leave.

  “I’ll soon return,” he promised.

  I nodded, overwrought with emotion.

  With the last brush of lips and warm breath against my cheek, he pulled his plaid closer around his broad shoulders and left me.

  The chamber door had scarcely closed behind him before I was moving. I went for the stones first, and placing both palms flat upon them, I closed my eyes and sent out the call to Jacques and the wolves, knowing they possessed both the strength and knowledge to prevent Dorian from falling prey to any designs Emilio might have in store for him.

  Next, I went for my cloak.

  I’d scarcely gathered it close before Marie burst into the chamber. “You’re too weak, my lady,” she said, seeing the cloak in my hands. “You’re not strong enough to shift.”

  “Don’t fret, Marie,” was all I said, sliding the soft feather of a white owl betwixt my fingers. “I find peace in the skies. ‘Twill restore me more than waiting here in the tower.”

  ‘Twas true enough. I’d often taken comfort in assuming the shape of a bird. There was no stronger definition of freedom and of peace than spreading my wings wide and gliding silently through the air. Such feelings restored my soul more than being cooped up, locked in a tower. Even more so, now that I had Dorian to track and mastermind his safety. I couldn’t fathom staying behind to simply wait for news.

  Marie knew a lost cause when she saw one. Still, she didn’t go out of her way to help. Instead, she crossed her arms and glowered at me from the bedchamber door as I retrieved the mana vial and dabbed a drop on my forehead.

  The shifting wasn’t an easy one. Obviously, I had more healing yet to do, but minutes later, I fluttered to the window in my owl form.

  “Have a care, my lady,” Marie called after me as I launched myself into the sky.

  I followed Dorian that day, keeping to the trees as he plodded on a north-westerly course towards his village. With each passing hour, the knowledge he rode into danger only grew stronger as the winds rose and the clouds thickened, promising more snow. How I wanted to stop him, but I knew no matter how hard I tried, his fate would meet him. Some things simply cannot be changed.

  Time passed. Dorian trudged on, silent for the most part, but on occasion, speaking with his horse. As nightfall approached, snow fell and the winds howled. He saw me once, as only an owl, of course. Oh, I wanted to change forms and hold him close, keep him safe from the Charmed fury I knew rushed his way.

  As the lights of the village twinkled in the darkness ahead, I caught sight of a dark blur rapidly approaching from behind.

  I did change forms then, dropping my owl form to stand in the middle of the road, standing as a Stonehenge Latchling, prepared to defend those I loved. If only Dorian had turned then, to look over his shoulder, he would have been shocked to see his lady-love standing in the snow, arms raised and prepared to attack.

  But he didn’t, and the arriving blur was no enemy.

  Jacques Lebeau stood before me, clad in a fine-leather hauberk over which he’d thrown an elegant cloak. Enough light reflected from the vast expanse of snow around us to illuminate his scar and his laughing, rolling eyes.

  “Did you not summon me?” the vampire harrumphed dryly, arching a brow at my battle-ready hands.

  I let out a long, relieved breath. “Protect him, Jacques,” I said, nodding at Dorian’s disappearing back. “I’ve told him to trust those who know the secret words: Honor. Justice. Forever. Never fading throughout the long march of time.”

  Jacques tilted his head to one side. “Intriguing,” he murmured, but exactly what he found so intriguing, he did not explain.

  “His fate is dark ahead, entwined with Emilio’s—” I continued, but something in my abdomen twisted within me then, startling and confusing me. Something I did not understand. Brushing it away, I focused on Jacques. “He will need you and your wolves. Protect him.”

  “We shall, my lady,” Jacques replied, but his demeanor turned to one very much concerned. “You have yet to heal. Should you be so far from Dunnottar at this time?”

  I parted my lips to lay his fears to rest, when again, I felt the strange tug within me. Was it yet another curse, battling to unleash itself? I glanced up into the snow, driving madly down from the inky black sky above. “I must return to Dunnottar, at once,” I said in answer. Reaching over, I clasped Jacques ice-cold fingers within mine. “Jacques. Find him. Protect him.”

  Then, in a flurry of white feathers, I flew into the dark, night sky, praying I would make it back before the mysterious curse unfolded.

  A dull gray painted the horizon by the time I’d returned to Dunnottar. Several times, I feared the curse within me would wake and prevent me from reaching my safe haven. I felt weaker with each passing moment. At last, the castle appeared below me, tiny and safe, and pinning my wings to my sides, I dove, knowing I had only moments before the curse awoke to wreak its havoc upon me.

  Gliding through the open window of my chamber, I faded from owl to human once more.

  But the moment my feet touched Dunnottar’s mighty stones, I knew the astonishing truth.

  I froze in utter shock.

  The fluttering stirred within my belly once again and this time, with the Stonehenge mana swirling around me, I knew exactly what it meant.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath, dropping my hand to my abdomen to cradle the new life kindling within.

  I was no longer alone.

  A girl. A daughter. Dorian’s child.

  The most incredible joy ignited my soul, even as the most profound pain pulled me into darkness. My shoulders sagged.

  In that moment I knew the truth.

  I had failed my task.

  Incredibly, I’d conceived a Stonehenge Latchling. Never before had I heard of a Latchling begetting another Latchling.

  But my daughter had taken a different path than what I’d taken. At her first spark of consciousness, she’d chosen to only carry the latchling promise.

  Tears burnt my lashes. I couldn’t help but admire her bravery even as I battled myriad emotions surrounding my own failure and the fear of knowing in this most dangerous of times, I’d just been rendered powerless.

  Already, I could feel my mana draining away. I began to shake, astonished I’d made it safely back to Dunnottar at all. How long would it take before I, myself, became entirely incapacitated?

  Hours?

  But even as I thought it, I knew already it was too late.

  Not even minutes.

  Seconds.

  In precious seconds, I would lose my latchling abilities. I would be naked, revealed, to Emilio’s power.

  He would know.

  My daughter reached out to me, sending me thoughts of comfort.

  Tears coursed down my cheeks. I knew that in mere seconds, I would no longer be able to feel her, to sense her.

  “How can I protect you?” I whispered hoarsely.

  She walked a dangerous path. By refusing and denying herself my latchling power, she’d condemned us both and her offspring to walk unprotected within a dangerous Charmed world.

  There could only be one reason she’d do such a thing.

  I was not strong enough to fight the Mindbreaker. She knew it. She’d made the decision to combine our power, mine, hers, and her descendants
, to carry a promise to some other latchling, seven hundred years in the future.

  Sending me one last affirmation of love, my daughter and my power slipped from my grip and I fell to the floor, bereft.

  A New Dawn

  I awoke to Marie’s hushed, worried tones, “My lady! My lady!”

  I felt heavy. Empty. A shell. I lay there on the castle’s cold floor and for the very first time in my life, felt nothing from the stones beneath my cheek. Nothing. Desperate, I searched for any hint of power left within me, the tiniest shred, but alas, found nothing, not even a single thread of mana.

  What would life become now? I’d lived with so many senses, shapes, and abilities at my disposal. Now?

  Now, I was blind.

  I didn’t even have to tell Marie. The moment my lashes lifted, her mouth dropped in abject horror.

  “Your … eyes!” she gasped, covering her face with both hands.

  Shakily, I rose to my feet and stumbled to the mirror. Pale skin, limp hair, familiar lips, and a slightly tipped up nose peered back at me from a face far too thin. I’d lost weight. A lot. Steeling my resolve, I finally lifted my eyes.

  I shuddered. The eyes looking back at me were the eyes of a stranger, not one silver mana strand laced my blue irises. There was nothing there, save a dull, almost gray kind of blue.

  In the background, I heard Marie asking, pleading for guidance on how she could fix things. If only she could.

  “It doesn’t matter, Marie,” I interrupted, forcing strength into my voice. “Common Folk have changed the world, have they not?” I may be powerless, but I still lived, and that meant I could still succeed.

  “Then ‘tis true?” she gasped. Her mouth opened even more as her eyes dropped to my belly. “Could it be? A latch—”

  “Hush!” I broke in sharply, rushing to her side.

  She nodded, dumbstruck, but couldn’t prevent from mouthing, “How?”

  How, indeed? I could only shake my head in wonder myself. I’d never heard of a latchling born to only one parent of the Charmed kind. I hadn’t thought it possible.

  “Lord Rowle’s?” Marie’s horrified query assailed my ears.

  I lifted my chin. The beginnings of a plan already forming. I might not have my witching powers, but I was far from helpless. Gripping Marie’s arm, I pulled her close to the window, where the sounds of the pounding sea masked our words. If anyone existed I could trust, it would be my most devoted Marie. She alone would know the truth. “To all but you, dear Marie, ‘tis Lord Rowle’s child,” I confessed.

  “A latchling, my dear lady?” she gasped in wonder. “Dorian’s?”

  I nodded. “But she’s chosen the more dangerous of the paths, to only hold the power, Marie. She’s helpless,” I explained urgently, digging my fingers into her arm. “Lord Rowle cannot know of her. He must never discover the truth.”

  Fear flickered across Marie’s face. “But he is already here, my lady,” she hissed. “Arrived just last night with that vampire, Emilio. I told them both that you suffered from exhaustion—”

  I clenched my teeth, shocked. “Emilio must not see me,” I interrupted hoarsely. “Not now. Never.”

  Poor Marie. She nodded to keep me happy, but her face had turned whiter than snow.

  I licked my dry lips, my thoughts racing frantically. “You must find me a babe. A boy. Lord Rowle wants a son. A Charmed boy, as powerful as you can find.”

  “Eh … and?” she asked, blinking in astonished bewilderment.

  I couldn’t blame her. Not really. I couldn’t let myself really think of the words I said next. It would hurt too much if I did. Instead, I rattled them off as simply tasks that must be done. “And a home, far away. Common folk. Loving parents. We must hide her, Marie. Hide her from all of this. Already, the memory of her choice is fading away. She won’t know unless we tell her. She must never know the truth of her birth.” And not only her. Dorian must remain ignorant as well. Should he find out, someone within the Charmed realm would not be far behind in sensing the truth. Still, I could offer my daughter what I could of him. “The highlands, Marie. She must live in the highlands.”

  “But, my lady—” Marie began.

  But I wasn’t finished. “And you must practice your witching spells. I’ll need you to cast an aura around us, when I tell Lord Rowle his heir is on the way. He’ll be expecting a Charmed babe and a boy. He’s a powerful warlock. He’ll be able to tell.”

  Marie’s eyes widened in horror. “My spells aren’t strong enough to fool Lord Rowle,” she objected.

  I caught her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “They must be, dear friend. They must be. We can do this. We must. We will prove ourselves better at the game.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. “Then it will be so, my lady,” she whispered.

  The first ray of sunlight fell upon me. I took it as a warning. I had only the day to put a healthy distance between myself and Emilio. By nightfall, I had to be far, far away. The stones of Dunnottar provided little succor or protection for me now.

  “I’m going home,” I said, resolutely making my decision. “To the Isle. Make plans for my departure and then inform Lord Rowle I would speak with him—after you cast the aura, my dearest of friends.”

  Marie nodded, drawing her lips in a firm line, her freckles standing out like black dots in the stark whiteness of her skin beneath. Uncapping the mana vial around my neck, I dabbed a drop on her forehead. With a huff, she closed her eyes and concentrated, hesitantly casting the spell.

  It wasn’t a moment too soon. Scarcely three heartbeats later, the chamber door flew open and Lord Rowle strode inside, clad in a blue velvet quilted tunic, the neck clasped together by a silver brooch.

  I stared, shocked as he approached, his eyes flicking over me in disdain. I hadn’t sensed his arrival. And even now, as he stood mere feet away, I still couldn’t feel him. How could I live so deaf and blind? How did the Common Folk survive? I clenched my jaw, calming the rapid rise and fall of my chest and shoving my fears away to focus solely on my survival.

  “Tell me, why have you come here?” Lord Rowle demanded impatiently.

  I didn’t hesitate. Taking a deep breath, I began walking the dangerous line with the truth. “Your heir, my lord.”

  He stiffened and shot me a quick glance. “Heir?” he repeated.

  He didn’t move, but his lashes fluttered and his breath quickened, betraying the fact he cast some sort of seeking spell, but I could no longer sense which one. Praying Marie’s magic would hold, I answered, “Yes, my lord. I expect an heir. Your son.”

  His eyes glowed as if lit from within. He threaded his hands through his dark hair before shoving it back entirely from his forehead and then joined me at the window.

  I closed my eyes, summoning strength. For a moment, a comforting image of Dorian arose in my mind, a mental picture of him laughing, smiling down at me, his eyes as deep and green as the finest emerald. But alas, when I lifted my lashes, Lord Rowle’s cold, stark gaze met mine instead.

  Lord Rowle grabbed me by the chin and forced my face up to his. “Your eyes,” he murmured, surprised.

  “I fear your son draws upon my power, my lord,” I whispered, knowing he’d buy such an explanation.

  He laughed, a foreign sound coming from his lips and slowly let go of my chin to drop a hand over my belly.

  It took every ounce of my will to remain standing there, subjecting myself to his touch.

  After what seemed like an age, his hands fell away and he nodded. “Well done, my queen,” he said, bestowing the title of Queen upon me for the very first time. He appeared greatly pleased. A ghost of a smile played over his lips. “It will be a son. And a powerful one. An heir to the Kingdom of the Charmed. At last.”

  “I leave for the Isle,” I said then, speaking quickly. “There are certain rituals I must perform as a Stonehenge Druid to ensure a safe birth.”

  I don’t think he believed me. Something dark skittered across his face, someth
ing that made me feel my time with him was coming to an end—and not a good end for me. Could I trust these feelings? I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell. But something in me warned once I bore this child, he would see no reason to keep me further.

  “Very well,” he agreed unexpectedly. “I will send men with you. Return when my son is born.” He lifted his arms and cast a glance about with a cold, proud smile. He moved to the door then. “See him born healthy,” he commanded me, throwing the words over his shoulder as he disappeared into the outer passage.

  The moment the door clicked shut behind him, both Marie and I let out long gasps of relief.

  “Let us be gone, and at once, before he can change his mind,” I told her, rushing to gather my belongings.

  As she ran to order the horses made ready, I slipped into my brown kirtle, lacing the bodice before the mirror.

  “I will keep you safe, little one,” I whispered, my eyes dwelling upon where my daughter lay. And I would. I took a deep, fortifying breath. I’d been given the gift of time, time to ensure my daughter’s safety and time to form a new battle plan for Emilio’s undoing.

  I was determined to accomplish both.

  * * *

  I recall little of the journey to Scotland’s northernmost isles. Lord Rowle had insisted upon sending a party of men to escort his son. I didn’t object. I couldn’t afford to rouse his suspicions. It didn’t matter, anyway. Once I reached my homeland, the men would find themselves vastly outnumbered by those loyal to my bloodlines.

  I sat in the bowels of the ship, huddled in my fur cloak as the winds howled around me, spraying the deck above with the icy mixture of snow and sea. It was miserable. Finally, after feeling like I’d been tossed around since time began, Marie escorted me out into the chill, sea air.

  Home.

  In the distance, I spied the isles, their sharp, jagged mountains spreading over the horizon.

  It struck me then. I’d already lost Dorian. Soon, I would lose our child.

  Tears filled my very soul, but I allowed them to flow for only the shortest of times. I had work to do. I left the ship, boarding a small skiff to take me to shore, and as my foot touched the sand, I bade Dorian my final farewell.