Jan Delima - Celtic Moon

Pain pierced her vision, and then nothing.

DYLAN EYED THE DESTRUCTION BEFORE HIM THROUGH A red haze of fear and rage. His forest reeked of death. Eighteen disembodied Guardians and two of his own lay strewn across the forest floor. The putrid scent of excrement and an unblessed violation of nature clung to the air in the aftermath of a Guardian attack. The Serpent of Cernunnos lay coiled on the ground, fed and satisfied, glinting with an unnatural glow and bloodred eyes.

And Sophie, his heart and his life, was nowhere to be seen.

Terror roiled like a thunderstorm in his gut. He lifted his head to the sky and shouted his torment, his wolf clawing to the surface to add its voice.

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t heed your warning, Dylan,” Isabeau said. “If your mate is responsible for any of this . . . then she is not defenseless, even for a human.” Her tone held both surprise and respect. She let her hand drop and scanned the area, her soft features made harsh with the proof that Dylan had spoken the truth.

Their time of peace had ended.

The leaders remained stoic; Madoc, Ryder, Drystan, Daron and Isabeau gathered around the outer edge of the trail, the five that had come to help Dylan save his human wife, unprepared for what they found. Isabeau bent to retrieve the Serpent, pulling back with a hiss.

“Leave it,” Dylan warned, counting heads from the fallen Guardians, knowing with a deadened heart that Sophie was responsible for most of their deaths. Also knowing that even when he found her, she would never again be the same. And neither would his son. “The Serpent belongs to my wife.”

Joshua knelt before his grandmother’s body, his gaze unfocused and clouded with shock. His sword, the one Dylan had given him just yesterday, lay beside him on the ground covered in Guardian blood.

Dylan’s hands shook as he patted him down, needing to feel a warm and breathing response. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” He spoke in monotone, his voice absent of his usual whimsical humor. “They took Mom. I tried to stop them . . .”

“They won’t have her for long,” Dylan assured him. He refused to contemplate any other outcome, not without losing his ability to breathe. “I will find your mother.”

“And Grandma . . .” He looked up with darkness in his gaze, his innocence forever lost. “My grandma’s dead.”

“I know.” Dylan lifted his son into a desperate embrace. He inhaled several deep breaths, savoring his very alive scent. Guilt pierced his heart like a poisoned lance.

He had brought Sophie and his son into this nightmare world. He was responsible for the darkness that now filled his son’s soul. Francine was dead because he had allowed her to stay. And Sophie . . .

He shook his head, expelling images that threatened his sanity.

“And they killed Malsum too,” Joshua said quietly.

Madoc stepped forward and removed his jacket. The other leaders followed, shedding their outer clothing to cover Francine and Malsum, two warriors who had proven their worth with the ultimate sacrifice.

Not concealing his approach, Luc pushed his way into the clearing. With teeth bared, he scanned the destruction; his gaze lingered on Francine’s covered body and then Malsum’s. Burgundy streaks marred his naked chest. Cormack followed to stand by his side, his gait slowed by an injured leg, his fur blackened with blood, his left eye swollen shut. Michael was the last guard to arrive; he had kept to his human form, but was in no better condition than his comrades, his expression solemn.

Luc moved forward and placed a hand on Joshua’s shoulder, a family united in the aftermath of death. “Another war has begun this day.”

No one refuted his words.

With her hands fisted by her sides, Isabeau stood over Rhun’s separated head. Indigo eyes searched the crowd, found Dylan’s and held.

Her lips trembled, and for a fleeting second he recognized the girl who had stumbled upon his camp with a bloodied wolf cub in her arms, caked with filth and haunted by the death of her family.

“For this alone”—she waved her hand over Rhun’s torso, her voice clogged with emotion—“I am in your mate’s debt. I will join your alliance.”

“Count me in as well,” Drystan added. “No more innocents can die without retribution.”

“Agreed,” Daron vowed his allegiance, followed by growls of approval from Madoc and Ryder, the two leaders who had joined Dylan’s cause without proof, a deed that would not be forgotten.

Dylan acknowledged each leader’s promise with a nod. “Let our alliance begin now.” He turned to his brother. “Tell us what you know.”

“The Guardians came from New Hampshire under Math’s orders. They entered our territory from the west.” Luc sneered with disgust. “We were protecting the north, and the areas around the village and Rhuddin Hall. It appears Siân requested sanctuary and informed them of Elen’s . . . gift .” His silver gaze searched for their sister, his eyes widening with concern when he realized she wasn’t there. “I don’t believe they had any knowledge of the gathering. They were after Elen. But Siân knows us; she gave them insight into our area, into our routine.”

Dylan absorbed that information, not caring how his brother had attained it. “There was another battle?”

A sharp nod. “In Crescent field.”

“How many Guardians?”

“Twelve.”

“Any still alive?”

“No.”

“Any more casualties of our own?”

“Taran,” Luc affirmed in a low growl. “And her daughter may soon follow her mother’s fate.” His wolf’s voice was close to the surface, a deep rumble of anger and retribution. “I have taken them to the clinic. The child needs Elen or she won’t be with us for long.”

“Is the clinic secure?”

Silver eyes darkened. “It is now.”

Nodding, Dylan turned to Joshua. “Have you seen your aunt? Do you know where she is?”

“She was here.” His voice hitched. “Something happened. Something really weird. Like . . . I don’t know . . . I can’t even explain it. Aunt Elen ran away when the Guardians took Mom. I fought them but I was the only one left and they had about eighteen, I think. And Tucker went with those men, like he wanted to, barking and playing like he does with Mom. I think he was trying to distract them from me—”

“Shh,” Dylan soothed, keeping his voice calm when his gut churned with fury and his wolf raged for release. “I’m proud of how you’ve defended yourself today, son. And we’ll find your mother. But first I need to know where your aunt is. There’s a child who needs her care. Can you remember in what direction she went?”

Turning in a circle to assess the area, Joshua stopped and then pointed to the north. “That way, I think.”

Following the scent of summer, it didn’t take long to track her journey, with Luc and the others not far behind. He found his sister crumpled on the ground less than a mile away. He stopped short, holding out his arm for the others to remain where they were.

Nature and growth expanded in a sphere around her location. An oblong ball of fur and skin moved beside her, like a wolf-sized caterpillar emerging from a cocoon yet the membrane refused to break. Her hands pressed against her ears to block out a keening sound emanating from the pile of distorted flesh.

With lethal purpose, Dylan drew his sword. A bite of power hummed across his skin as he cautiously approached. He tasted metal on his tongue. Unsure about the location of the creature’s head, he slashed down the center, slicing the pile of gore into segments until the disjointed sound ceased.