Jan Delima - Celtic Moon

“The Council meets tonight,” she said, composed once again with a plotting light in her silver-blue gaze. “When the others learn Dylan has sired a shifter, they will demand control of his territory. I suspect they will go to Castell Avon in the White Mountains, with Math and Rosa Alban’s cooperation. Until now, they’d assumed Rosa was the last shifter born.”

“Don’t concern yourself with Math and Rosa.”

“I will concern myself with whoever brings danger near my children! Math is Gwarchodwyr Unfed , loyal to the Council, as is Rosa’s aunt. Not to mention,” she continued on a familiar rant, “the White Mountains of New Hampshire are close to Dylan’s territory.” Agitated by worry, she began to pace. “Rosa is weak. She agreed to marry Math with no resistance.” She turned abruptly to glare at Taliesin. “Do you know what the Council has planned for her this coming Beltane, with Math’s approval I might add?”

“I know what they have planned,” he reminded her.

She made a disgusted sound low in her throat. “Three hundred years married to that vile creature is more misery than any woman should endure in silence, even one as meek as Rosa.”

Inwardly, Taliesin shared her sentiment of Math, but not of his young wife. “You of all women should never misinterpret silence as meekness. Rosa is strong enough to endure what is to come.” He purposely veered the conversation back to Dylan, the only topic that would distract her sharp mind. “And you’ve warned your children, Merin. Because of the banner, they now know the Guardians are coming. You have given them time to prepare.”

“Yes, but is it enough?”

“Dylan has organized a gathering with all the leaders not loyal to the Council.” Taliesin wanted to offer more reassurance but feared changing the course of events even further than he already had.

“This is good news.” Merin calmed, turned thoughtful. “Let’s hope the others listen. Or the Council will destroy us all in their quest for power. They think this is about land, about ownership of the earth that belongs to no one. They’ve forgotten that our gift is given— not taken.”

Taliesin reached down and enclosed her small hands within his. Her skin was cold with fear, provoking him to share a private assumption, an idea conceived by a simple question from her son. “Dylan asked me why I thought Joshua was chosen over all the others.”

She pulled her hands from his grasp and tucked them into her cloak. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing of significance,” Taliesin said, keeping his real response to himself out of respect. “But I’ve come to realize Ceridwen may have a personal bias toward women who are ruthless when it comes to protecting their children.”

Like the goddess Herself, he thought bitterly, my mother. His story was not much different from Dylan’s, the very reason, he supposed, he felt compelled to help this family.

“I hate it when you talk in riddles,” she said, sounding much like her son. “What are you insinuating?”

He spoke plainly. “I believe your children are powerful because of you. I believe Joshua will shift tonight because of Sophie.” He shrugged. “I believe Ceridwen favors mothers who make wrong decisions but with a pure heart.”

Merin’s brow furrowed with annoyance. “How have my decisions been wrong when my children still live?”

“Exactly,” he said, knowing Sophie had the very same mind-set; two different women with the same tenacious objective. Was it a coincidence that their children were rewarded?

He thought not. “I know your heart weeps for them, Merin. One day your children will know the truth.”

“Perhaps,” she said quietly, “but will they ever forgive me for what I have done?”

THE WHITE SHAPE OF A CRESCENT MOON HUNG LOW IN the darkened sky. Sophie remembered this path well, on a different night with a different agenda. No guards blocked her way this time, just Elen and Luc, and Joshua up ahead with his father. Tucker trotted by her side, with his tail wagging as if they were going on an afternoon jaunt.

Only immediate family had been invited to watch Joshua’s first attempt at a transition, everyone except Sophie’s mother. Dylan had convinced her that Joshua needed minimal distraction. There were guards stationed in the woods, she knew, but Dylan had promised they would not interfere.

The rich scent of earth filled her lungs, her steps cushioned by a carpet of moss as they approached the familiar clearing. Over the last few days, spring had settled fully within the Katahdin area, as rain and warmth had melted away any lingering patches of snow. Energy pricked along her skin, or perhaps that was just nerves. “Always the oak tree,” she muttered under her breath.

“It is sacred to us,” Elen said, reaching out her arm to lace through Sophie’s.

Sophie stilled for a moment, surprised by the gesture, but soon took comfort in the contact as they walked arm in arm down the path. “Does it hurt?” she asked, trying hard to keep her voice neutral. “Does it hurt when you shift?”

“I have no personal experience,” Elen said. “I cannot shift. But I am told that it does, followed by an equal amount of pleasure. And Dylan will teach Joshua to manage the pain.”

Sophie gave a sharp nod. “Thank you for being honest.” Although in that instance a small lie might have been preferable.

Elen pressed further. “Joshua needs to attempt a transition. The longer he resists, the more the need will grow, and the more painful the transition will be.”

Sophie waved away her warning. “I’m not arguing with you. I just don’t like the thought of him in pain. I would take it onto myself if I could.”

“To become a worthy man, your son needs to overcome his own challenges without his mother’s help.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. But sometimes knowing what was best didn’t necessarily make it any easier to handle. “I’m sorry for ranting. I’m just worried.”

“Do not apologize for loving my nephew.”

The tree stood alone in the center of the clearing. Thick roots formed a massive knot that reached out like octopus arms toward the shadowed forest. Dylan guided Joshua to stand under its woven branches as Luc hovered around the outskirts, watching the darkness.

With wide eyes, Joshua looked toward his father. “What do I have to do?”

Stepping away from Elen, Sophie fisted her hands by her sides until her nails dug into her palms. She wanted to scream, Nothing. You don’t have to do anything. But because of the longing in her child’s voice, because of the pain she knew he tried to hide, she remained silent.

Dylan stood in front of their son and placed a hand on his shoulders. “Reach out, like you did in my truck, and draw from the power that nature offers.”

Joshua frowned with concentration. “Should I think about a wolf?”

“Your wolf will know what to do,” Dylan said. “It will take over . . . once you give it the power.”

“I’ve never done that.”

“I know.” When Joshua scrunched his eyes closed, a gentle smile touched Dylan’s lips. “You might want to take your clothes off first.”

“Can’t I just go down to my boxers?” He inclined his head toward Sophie and Elen.

“If you want.” Dylan stripped without hesitation, although he kept his briefs on.

Following his father’s lead, Joshua removed his clothing down to his boxers. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then it doesn’t work,” Dylan said simply. “But I believe it will.”