Jan Delima: Celtic Moon

“Fine,” Dylan grudgingly agreed, irritated that his distrust was based on personal misjudgments of his past. “But make sure she knows to stay away from Sophie. I fear Siân has clouded her sister’s judgment.” Ultimately, Taran’s loyalty would lean toward her own family and not his, and as Siân’s younger sister, her judgment toward Sophie might be compromised. “I don’t trust either wolf around my wife, especially Siân. Her mind has become . . . disturbed .” And because of him, her hatred toward Sophie was justified. “I want her watched.”

Luc gave a sharp nod. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Send Michael,” Dylan added. Of all the guards, Michael had been the first to notice Siân’s odd behavior, and one of the few who had not succumbed to her enticements.

“Michael’s a good choice. Sarah can help cover his watch.”

Somewhat appeased, Dylan fingered his cell, flipped the window open and checked the time, and then pushed a button, making sure the thing worked. When a green number appeared on the small screen, he snapped it closed.

Luc’s eyes followed Dylan’s motions. “Nervous, brother?”

“Bugger off.”

He chuckled, a rare sound of genuine amusement. “Ah, it’s a good day if I can get a rise out of you.” His tone lowered, although his grin remained. “I’m anxious to meet my nephew.”

Dylan turned to the only person allowed to see his concern. “I pray he’s well.”

Luc’s smile faded as he placed a hand on Dylan’s shoulder and squeezed. “He’ll be thin. Sophie won’t have had the knowledge to keep him sustained through his growth period. He may even be stunted.”

“I know.” The heaviness in his chest refused to subside. Even as a latent, the metabolism of two animals in one being needed an enormous amount of nutrition to achieve normal growth. “I’ll take him in any condition.”

“We’ll make him strong.”

“I should have listened to you that night.” Dylan voiced his regret aloud for the first time, wondering with some disdain at his recent lapses into personal reflection. “Sophie wasn’t ready to see my wolf. I thought . . .” He shrugged. “I thought it would help her understand. Koko handled it much better.”

A shadow passed over Luc’s face with the mention of his dead wife’s name. “Koko came from a different people.” A better people, his tone suggested of Koko’s family, a band of traveling gypsies. Like many in the late 1800s, they had come to America for the opportunity to wield their trades. “She understood the power of the earth. Her mind was open, not closed like these modern races.”

There was pain in his voice when he spoke of her, even now after sixty years of mourning.

“But,” Luc continued, “I don’t think revealing the wolf was your greatest mistake.”

Only his brother would dare to make such a comment, the exact reason, Dylan supposed, he had chosen him for this. “And what do you think was my greatest mistake?”

“Voicing aloud your intentions to keep your child. I remember that night well. I didn’t sense real fear from Sophie until that moment.” Luc shrugged. “You should have just kept your mouth shut and done what was necessary when the time came.”

Dylan didn’t respond. Luc wouldn’t understand because he had never truly been mated, but only an ass or an idiot would remind him of that fact. Luc honored Koko as his mate of choice; their union, sadly, had been childless.

Once the wolf intervened and a child was conceived, choice was just a pretty word for bards and philosophers. The human heart can be reserved, even controlled, but the animal only knew want and need.

He had felt Sophie’s intentions that night, and her hatred . Nothing in the world, or Otherworld for that matter, could have kept him silent.

The shrill ring of his phone made him tense, a shot of nightshade tonic preferable to the unnatural sound. “Yes.”

“Hi, it’s me . . . Sophie.” As if she had needed to identify herself.

“I know.” A tacit snarl of satisfaction spread through his limbs. That wanting never receded, regardless of the other mate’s betrayals.

“Um . . . I promised to call you when we reached Maine. We’re in Saco. We should be in Rhuddin Village around four.”

Earlier than expected. “The lake house is ready for you.”

“Thank you. And just so you know . . .” She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “My mother’s with me.”

“Your mother?” Dylan frowned, turning his back to Luc’s raised eyebrow. “How much does she know?”

“Not much.” Her voice took on an odd tone, high-pitched. “Nothing of significance.”

“Do you think it wise to bring her now?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Then why do it?” The last thing Dylan needed at this time was another human in his territory, and Sophie’s mother no less.

“You don’t know my mother.”

RHUDDIN VILLAGE HAD THE APPEARANCE OF A NORMAL town, with a post office, clinic, homes and stores, its secrets well hidden from unsuspecting visitors, as Sophie had learned all too well.

Her heart raced as she drove past the brick church that marked the entrance to the wilderness reserve, where sidewalks ended and asphalt became gravel, where forest and lakes remained forever wild in a valley under a snowcapped mountain—and where Dylan waited not too far away.

“How much longer?” her mother asked for the twentieth time in the last half hour. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Sophie kept her eyes on the winding dirt road pitted with puddles. “We’re almost there.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Sophie reminded her, immediately regretting her impatience.

Joshua groaned from the backseat, recognizing his mother’s error.

“I’m tired of hearing that tone from you,” Francine snapped, her voice like boiling water over thin ice, a warning that Sophie had stepped too far and was about to fall in. “When you came to me just after your father died, hurt and pregnant . . . and you told me that . . . that man wanted to take the baby from you, what did I do? When you told me that I either had to come with you or go into hiding and forget you— what did I do ?”

“You’re right, Mum. I’m sorry.” Sophie tried to defuse the lecture that she knew had only just begun.

“I completely relocated my life, that’s what. Without question. To be with you and my grandchild. I changed my name to Brown , for the love of God. Do you think I’ll walk away now that you’ve decided to face whatever demons you need to face?”

“I said I was sorry.” She ground her teeth. “And Joshua doesn’t need to hear this right now.”

Francine sniffed, her posture going rigid. “Then don’t bring it up again.”

“I won’t.”

“We’re a team.” It seemed she wasn’t quite done yet. “Don’t ever forget that. And if that man even tries to keep me away from my grandson, then he’ll know what it’s like to face the wrath of two Thibodeau women at once.” She blew out a breath of air, fanning herself. “Now look what you’ve gone and done . . . My blood pressure’s all upset.” She gave a low laugh, starting to calm down. “I must admit, it felt good to say my real name again.”

Sophie patted her mother’s arm. She almost felt sorry for Dylan. Almost. “Did you take your pills this morning?”

“Yes, at the rest stop.”

Sophie nodded, recognizing the last turn up ahead. “This is it. We’re here.” She braced herself as the car bounced over roots and holes in a driveway of sorts, protected by a canopy of tall pine trees. She parked her Ford Taurus alongside a black Chevy Avalanche.