Jan Delima - Celtic Moon

He rolled his eyes. “Chill, Mom. I’m fine. Aunt Elen just listened to my heart rate and did a few other tests.” He grinned then. “I think I passed.”

Aunt Elen, is it? Dylan smiled.

So did his sister. “You passed.”

His wife, however, wasn’t smiling when she leveled Elen with a searching glare. “Should I be relieved or concerned?”

Elen looked to Dylan. “Can I speak openly?”

“Yes, we will no longer protect my wife from the truth. I believe she’s ready to hear it.”

His sister nodded with approval, not inclined to soften her words. “Joshua is powerful enough to shift into the wolf. Are you strong enough to handle that? If so, then be relieved. If not, then be concerned.”

Sophie flinched, unaware that Elen had been her greatest defender. “You have no idea what I’d do for my son.”

“No, I don’t.” Elen crossed her arms in front of her chest. “But then whose fault is that?”

Sophie turned her back on them and ran a gentle hand down Joshua’s arm, searching his face. “I’m strong enough to handle anything but losing you.”

“I know, Mom.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “Are you ready for a new adventure?”

By the look on Sophie’s face, the simple question had personal significance. It made Dylan painfully aware of his exclusion from their life.

Sophie laughed, and it was a musical sound of pure love and acceptance. It was, Dylan recognized, a sound he’d never heard from her.

It made him ache.

“You’re accepting the news better than expected,” he said dryly.

Her smile faded when turned upon him. “I had already accepted the possibility when I called you.”

Of course she had, he thought bitterly, or else she would never have made that call.

RHUDDIN HALL WAS A FORTRESS OF FIELDSTONE AND iron, with four long rectangular buildings enclosing the main house and central courtyard. The roof held a catwalk around the perimeter connecting the outer buildings, with watchtowers in all four corners.

No one was allowed admittance or departure without Dylan’s permission.

And the guards were good.

Sophie knew this firsthand.

With Joshua by her side, she followed Dylan and Elen up the cobblestone drive. Each step took conscious effort. She felt laden with knowledge, overwhelmed by information.

Their earlier words disturbed her mind and challenged her convictions.

You’ll live much longer than you’ve assumed.

The sooner you accept that you’re a part of my world, the easier it will be for you to accept your fate.

Joshua is powerful enough to shift into the wolf. Are you strong enough to handle that?

She couldn’t think of the last, not yet. Not without losing what little composure she had left. Despite her misgivings, she’d been given a small view into Dylan’s world. Her mind wanted to reject that knowledge but it explained too much about his behavior.

There are others of my kind who will eliminate any threats to our race.

She began to understand his motives. She also understood that her son was a part of his father, and therefore a part of his world. If she wanted to remain in Joshua’s life, she needed to conform to Dylan’s terms.

The very thought went up her ass sideways.

The sound of hushed voices and curious whispers pulled Sophie away from her morose meanderings. She lifted her eyes toward the evening sky. Gas lanterns encased in wrought iron cages hung above the second-floor windows, casting an eerie light along the stone façade. Along the catwalk there stood over a hundred shadowed faces, all looking down on her with unguarded resentment.

Raw human emotion on perfect human faces. One would never know the secret they protected, until it was too late.

She felt a warm hand on her back, comforting, strong— and not her son’s . Joshua would have nudged her or crowded her. He would not have stroked her back with a steady hand.

“Ignore them,” Dylan whispered next to her ear, gently ushering her forward. “They’re just curious.”

“Okay,” Joshua said under his breath, “I have to agree with Mom here. That’s a little creepy.”

Dylan frowned but didn’t comment. The front building housed most of the guards; in the center was a silver gate wide enough for a large vehicle to drive through. Dylan nodded to a female guard Sophie knew as Taran.

Siân’s sister.

Golden eyes fell on Joshua with a somber expression, then quickly narrowed in on Sophie. “She’s carrying weapons.”

Sophie lifted her chin, not surprised by the woman’s accurate assumption. “I’ll not enter this place unarmed. And I’ll not allow my son to go in without me . . . as long as there are people here who mean him harm.”

Taran sneered as the insult registered. “You’ll do whatever our leader tells you to do.”

“Leave it alone, Taran,” Dylan ordered with displeasure heavy in his voice, directed more toward Sophie than the woman guard, who was simply performing her assigned duty. “I would have removed Sophie’s weapons before we arrived, if it had been my inclination to do so.”

“You might have tried,” Sophie said quietly, an automatic response to his threat, one she regretted a moment later. Thankfully, Dylan chose not to call her challenge but he gave her an odd look, as if just realizing the woman he had once known as his wife no longer existed.

A scowl marred Taran’s features as she retracted the gate inside the stone walls without further comment.

Joshua lifted his head toward the sky as they walked through the stone archway, his eyes drawn to the gathering crowd above. “Do they all live here?”

“Most have homes in the village,” Elen said.

“Then why are they here?”

“To meet you.” Dylan led them through the gardens in the courtyard; the perennial beds were cut to the ground, waiting for new growth to emerge. He went around to the side of the main building and opened the kitchen door.

As they entered, Enid leaned against the center island with her arms crossed in front of her chest, like a general guarding her domain against an intruding force. She was a stout woman with reddish-brown hair and flushed cheeks. Her lips thinned downward with disapproval.

As other members of the house filled the room, Enid glared at Sophie without comment, then turned her sharp gaze on Joshua. There was an odd expression on her face. Sophie might have called it remorse if she thought the woman capable of such an emotion.

“Joshua,” Dylan said, breaking the hushed silence, “this is Enid, a dear friend.” He waved his hand around the room, listing off names of huddled faces. “Everyone,” he announced with pride, “my son.”

“Hello.” Joshua looked about the room with wide eyes.

Enid gave him a lowered nod. “You’ll learn all our names in time. I hope you enjoy the dinner we’ve prepared for you. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” His favorite answer to that particular question.

Enid shooed everyone away. “Then go have a seat in the dining hall and we’ll be right in with the first course.” Her voice was cheerful.

The sidelong glare she shot in Sophie’s direction was not.

Sophie kept her shoulders squared as she weaved through the crowded kitchen. She recognized most of the faces staring back at her. Their nodded greetings did little to relieve her apprehension; they had always been nice to her in front of Dylan.

It was the other times that concerned her, when Dylan wasn’t watching.

The dining hall had not changed. It was a gothic affair of formality, with torch sconces, dark oak floors, stone walls, mounted swords and large tapestries.