Jan Delima - Celtic Moon

Her brown eyes snapped with gold fire. “He’s always been protected . . . and loved, no matter where we were.”

“But he probably sensed your anxiety,” Dylan explained. “He wasn’t given enough time to settle, to feel secure in his surroundings . . . until recently. Am I right?”

She remained silent.

He pressed his point, “How long have you lived in your current location?” It took a great deal of self-control not to ask where that location was specifically.

“Four years,” she admitted, although with obvious reluctance. “So this . . . change in Joshua has nothing to do with hormones? I thought maybe . . . I don’t know . . . puberty might have brought this on.”

“Oh, God , Mom.” Joshua rolled his eyes, disgusted. “You’re like a few years too late for that question.”

Dylan had a hard time keeping his grin contained. “No, age is irrelevant.”

“Okay.” Sophie exhaled softly. “But is he going to be okay now that”—she swallowed—“now that his wolf’s no longer dormant?”

“I promise you,” Dylan said calmly, trying to ease her concern, “if he stays with me, no harm will come to him. There are things for him to learn that you can’t teach him. You must understand that.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” She pressed back into the seat, crossing her arms. “If Joshua wants to stay, we will. If not—”

“I wanna stay, Mom.” Obviously sensing the undercurrents of his parents, he hedged, “Mom can stay too, right?”

Dylan swallowed a pleased snarl.

He had her.

“Only if she wants to.”

“If I’m here,” Joshua said with confidence, “Mom’ll want to stay.”

The unguarded statement revealed a great deal about their relationship.

His son had only known love from his mother.

Dylan felt his beast sigh with satisfaction. “Your mother is aware of my conditions. They haven’t changed. There must be no contact with anyone outside our territory.”

A look passed between mother and son, a questioning glance from Joshua answered by a sharp frown from Sophie.

Their distrust left a vile taste on Dylan’s tongue. “There are five hundred and twelve people living in Rhuddin Village under my protection. I refuse to have their welfare compromised. Their lives are no less valuable than ours.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Joshua blurted out. “We have no one of importance to contact. Right, Mom? Grandma’s already here. And I’m here. There’s no one else. Well, besides Mr. Ayres. But he’s not family.”

Dylan frowned with the mention of another man’s name, a man who he’d never heard of—a man who wasn’t family.

“He’s my boss,” Sophie explained, her voice dry. “Nothing more. He does deserve a call, however. And will be getting one.”

A CIRCLE OF TALL PINE TREES SHROUDED THE SMALL clinic from outside eyes. The building was all on one level, half built into the ground, a fairly modern design of cement walls and metal roofing painted brown and green to blend with its surroundings.

Sophie followed Joshua and Dylan along a dark path that led to the only visible entrance. Her son hovered close to his father, eager to please, and not acting the least bit unhealthy.

She glared at Dylan’s back, fuming at her own stupidity, beginning to realize Joshua had never been in any real danger, and that Dylan had taken advantage of her ignorance. He’d been too damn happy in the truck at the first indication of—whatever the hell it was. Power , they’d called it.

Dylan opened the door to the clinic, a smile—an actual smile—on his face as he laughed at something Joshua had said.

Her breath clogged in her throat as she watched the budding relationship grow stronger with each passing minute. Her son looked happy, more than happy—accepted.

Wanted.

Her shoulders slumped. Dylan deserved to know his son, and Joshua needed his father. She no longer had the right to deny them that relationship.

If she ever had.

“Mom, come on.” Joshua held the solid metal door, waiting for her.

And suddenly a small weight of sadness lifted and she quickened her step. Dylan would never be able to take away the time she’d had with their son. No matter what the future held, Joshua would always know how much she’d loved him.

“Hold on,” she said. “I’m coming.”

Elen stood in a large open space reserved for incoming emergencies. She looked just as fair and lovely as Sophie remembered, with her hands crossed in front of her chest, watching Joshua approach with tear-filled eyes.

“Hello, Joshua. My goodness, you’re tall. And handsome. I’m your aunt Elen. It seems I’ve waited forever to meet you.”

Joshua held up his hand in a quick wave, uncomfortable with the personal greeting. “Hi.”

Elen stayed back, obviously sensing his unease. She turned to Sophie and her expression turned colder than Fiddlehead Lake in February. “Thank you for bringing him home. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions. Then I’ll examine him in private.”

Icy. Professional. And yet Joshua’s alarmed expression gentled her voice. “Just a quick check of your vitals,” she told him. “It won’t take long. Your mom can come too, if you’d be more comfortable.”

He straightened under the insinuation of still needing his mother. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Joshua’s never been to a hospital before,” Sophie found it necessary to explain. “He’s never been sick, until recently.”

“I’m not sick, Mom.”

Sophie waved away the interruption. “You know what I mean.”

Elen frowned, tilting her head to one side, assessing. “Where did you give birth?”

“At home. With midwives.” Sophie tried to ignore Dylan’s silent glare. “I was afraid he’d be different. I didn’t want him to be taken if he was.”

Elen nodded, not denying the possibility. “Was the birthing normal?”

“I believe so. But it was long.”

“ How long?” Dylan asked.

“Twenty-five hours. He was ten pounds six ounces,” Sophie said proudly. “And perfect.”

Elen’s posture softened at the last comment, although her voice remained reserved. “What did you feed him as an infant?”

“I nursed. My mother tried to give him a bottle once just to supplement feedings but he wouldn’t take it. He was hungry all the time. He fed more than he slept. You should’ve seen me. I was huge. ”

Sophie dropped her hands, realizing with some embarrassment she’d been demonstrating how big her chest had gotten.

Joshua groaned. “Way more info than I needed to hear.”

Dylan had gone rigid, the small muscle on the side of his cheek flexed and relaxed, then flexed again.

Elen tactfully changed the subject. “And after? What’s his diet been like?”

Sophie let out a soft laugh. “Pretty much everything I give him, and then some. He never seems to gain weight. I even supplement his meals with protein shakes.”

Elen gave Joshua a brief smile. “He looks good,” she admitted. “So whatever you’ve done has worked well for him. Has he had any immunizations?”

“No.” Sophie shook her head. “Should he have? I was just afraid to expose him.”

Elen shrugged. “They’re unnecessary but wouldn’t have harmed him. I asked only because a few cause lethargic symptoms until both immune systems adjust. It might have explained certain behaviors. You must have homeschooled him then,” she said absently, “if he wasn’t immunized?”