Celtic Moon (22 page)

T
HE 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.”

“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.

“Um.” Sophie leaned over to Elen. “What’s going on? Why do they keep saying that word?”

“They’re honoring you,” she explained. “
Dewisedig
comes from our old tongue. It is a name I have not heard in a very long time. It means
chosen human
.”

“Oh.” Sophie chewed on that for a moment. “What if I don’t want to be chosen?”

She gave a delicate shrug, an elegant way of saying,
Deal with it.
“You have given birth to the first shifter in over three hundred years. It is a blessing to our people that you cannot begin to comprehend.”

 * * * 

B
ACK AT
R
HUDDIN
H
ALL
,
LAUGHTER AND MUSIC HUMMED
through the main floor as Sophie snuck upstairs to check on her mother, knocking softly.

“Come in,” Francine said. “Oh, Sophie,
finally
 . . . You’re back. How is Joshua?”

“He’s fine,” Sophie quickly reassured her. “He’s still with his father.”

“So, it happened?”

She nodded silently.

With brown eyes filled with concern, Francine assessed her daughter, opening her arms. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Without hesitation, she fell into her mother’s waiting embrace. This was exactly what she’d needed, a little support from the one person who accepted her without conditions. “It was so hard, Mum, watching him go through that . . . and not being able to help.”

“I can only imagine,” Francine said, tucking back a strand of Sophie’s hair. “Honestly, I’m glad I wasn’t there to see it, but I’m proud of you. And I’m proud of how you’re trying to work things out with Joshua’s father.”

She hiccupped. “Thanks.”

“Shh,” her mother soothed. “Do you know when they’re supposed to return?”