Jan Delima - Celtic Moon

“Okay.” Joshua took a deep breath and let it out. “Let’s do this.”

Closing his eyes, Dylan opened his arms and reached to the sky. Pine branches whispered behind him, brushed by a wind that didn’t exist. Joshua mimicked his father’s actions, tentative at first, and then more aggressive, more confident.

Oh, God, Sophie thought. This is really happening.

The forest shivered as a flurry of pine needles floated to the ground, slowly, like falling through water, suspended by an unseen energy.

“Can you feel that?” Elen moaned. “He’s powerful.”

“Yes,” Luc hissed from the shadows.

Sophie let out a startled gasp, for she too felt pressure build around her. The presence of elements clung to her skin, making her eyes water and her throat burn. She tasted metal in the air. Tucker paced around the outer edge of the clearing, whining in a high-pitched sound that warned of danger.

This was different from before.

Something was wrong. “Stop!”

Her cry went unheard, or ignored.

A strangled sound welled up from Joshua as he wrapped his arms around his stomach and crumpled to the ground, curling into a fetal position.

“Stop,” Sophie screamed again and lunged forward, but Elen held her back. “Let me go! Something’s wrong— ”

Uncaring who or what she hit, Sophie kicked out at the nearest solid object. Elen sucked in her breath and loosened her hold. Another set of arms circled in, large and unmoving. Not Dylan’s, because he knelt by their son, stroking Joshua’s back and whispering to him with words she couldn’t hear.

“Calm yourself,” Luc growled softly, close to her ear. “This is normal.”

“No.” Sophie started to shake her head and then couldn’t seem to stop. “This is not normal.” She could barely breathe, barely think to speak.

Luc’s arms continued to hold her. “It is normal for us, though more intense than expected. Prepare yourself. Your son is going to shift.”

“Oh, God . . .” Oh, God . . . help him. She wanted to turn away but refused, even as fur began to emerge over his precious face. A strangled moan fell from his lips as bones began to break and re-form.

“Oh, sweet Goddess . . .” Elen dropped to her knees, whispering her own prayer.

Darkness swam before Sophie’s eyes and she lost her balance. Luc tightened his arms, shoving her face into his chest, forcing her to look away. Enveloped by strength, warm but unyielding, she ceased her struggles. Large hands moved from her back and gently covered her ears, muting the sounds of her child’s animal-like screams.

Seconds, minutes, maybe even a lifetime later, a hovering stillness settled over the clearing, a cooling mist of translucent lightness, as if a healing fog had lifted from the earth to soothe the succession of one of its own.

A deafening howl pierced the silence, followed by a softer, wolfish cry. Another canine voice joined in— Tucker’s . Sophie recognized his boisterous bark.

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.