Autumn Moon (23 page)

Every home had a scent, and Elen closed her eyes to savor the dried herbs and pine that marked her cottage. A fire blazed in the central hearth and soup simmered on the stove. More than anything, she needed to be here, with Cormack. It was this image that had sustained her through eight weeks of darkness, and it had come true. There was no greater homecoming than this. Sophie hugged her as soon as she walked through the door, followed by Joshua.

“I need a shower,” Elen warned. They had stopped briefly in a hotel before their flight to change and clean up, but she was eight weeks due for a full soaking. Even with Merin's private plane, interactions with the mortal world were necessary. Her mother had stayed behind in their homeland to spread word of Pendaran's fall to the other Council members, and try to ally Bran on her side, along with Maelor—to Teyrnon's raging displeasure. Luc, Cadan and Teyrnon had
returned to Avon once they landed. The farewells were a blur, the journey back even more. A part of Elen still felt numb, as if her soul hid in the shadows, unsure if this was just another fantasy.

“Do you think we care?” Sophie shook her head, wiped at her face. Tear-kissed hands lifted to the chopped ends of Elen's hair. Turning, she grabbed a chair from the kitchen table and placed it in the center of the floor. “Sit. I will be right back.” She returned with a spray bottle, scissors and a comb.

Such a simple gesture, and Elen felt her throat clog in gratitude. Layers framed her face when Sophie had finished, curling just above her shoulders. It felt light and done by caring hands.

She reached up and tested the feathered ends. “Thank you.”

Sophie gave her a tight hug that lingered before letting her go. “We'll leave now and let you have some rest.”

Dylan took his wife's cue, nodding to Cormack and then Elen. “I'm holding a meeting on Arwel Passage once the sun sets. All of Rhuddin Village has been ordered to come. I want you both there.”

The passage ran from the village to Rhuddin Hall, and was the place where their first battle began this looming war, where Sophie had lost her mother and Elen removed a Guardian's power and gave it to Cormack. Malsum, one of their most loyal guards, had also fallen.

She didn't know what her brother had planned, but she sensed it was a pivotal change in the future of their territory. “We'll be there.”

Joshua was the last to leave. “Are you okay, Aunt Elen?”

She would never tire of hearing him call her that. “I will be,” she promised. And to ease his concern, she added, “I heard you took care of my animals while I was gone.”

“Chickens like spaghetti.” He grinned, but it was forced, a buffer for the concern in his dark eyes that had aged more since she'd been gone. “They fight over it like it's a pile of worms.”

“He spoiled them,” Sophie warned, gesturing her son to the door. “They may never eat feed again.”

Once alone, Cormack scooped her in his arms and carried her to the second floor. Needing tactile reassurances, Elen ran her hand over the wooden slats of her walls on her way up the stairs. He set her down in the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“You can stay.” She stopped him with her hands on his forearms as he turned to leave.

“I can't.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I want you, Elen. I want you more than you can possibly imagine, and I know you need this time—”

“I don't.”

“You do.” He stepped back. “I'll be waiting for you right here in the hallway.”

In the end, she was glad he gave her this privacy without an audience to use facilities and wash private areas with her own hands for the first time in two months. When the warm water beat against her back, she let the tears flow as the events of the day unfolded and she realized she was free, and home, and with the man she loved, and who loved her in return.

She had survived. And Pendaran was dead. She didn't know what the future held, but for today they were safe.

Her fingers were pruny by the time she turned the water off. Everything remained in its place, her moonflower cream, toothbrush and floss. She used them all, then wrapped a soft towel around her torso and opened the door.

Cormack kissed her temple and led her to their bed.
“Dress while I shower,” he told her. “Afterward we'll talk, read, sleep . . . or do whatever you want.”

“I need you,” she whispered. “That's what I want.”

His breath hitched. “Elen—”

She sensed his hesitation,
hated
that Pendaran continued to disturb them, even in death. “He didn't touch me.”

Guilt caved his shoulders like a physical force. “He imprisoned you in a cave below earth, below nature and everything you need to thrive.” Tears welled in his eyes before he looked away to hide them. “He kept you . . .” He shook his head, unable to continue.

“Hush,” she soothed. “You will not mention that again. It is done and we will move on.” She began to unravel the towel.

He cupped her face in his hands and gave her a lingering kiss that promised security more than seduction. “It is done, but we won't bury our hurts either to fester later. Rest now. I won't be long.”

While Cormack showered, Elen dried and brushed her hair, taking note of her pale appearance in the vanity mirror. She was thin but not gaunt, nothing that sun and home wouldn't cure in time. Her eyes and wounds had healed, and so too would her soul.

Heat rose from the first floor through the cast-iron grates, warming her room. Crawling into bed, she waited for her fantasy to be complete and proven true.

*   *   *

Elen was asleep when Cormack returned. He closed the curtains to block out the day before joining her in their bed. This evening's meeting would come soon enough, and until then he would hold her in whatever capacity she required, even if it was just rest.

Sliding next to her, he wrapped his arm around her waist and snuggled her close. He had cursed the Gods countless times over the last few weeks, and offered his first prayer for her safe return. His heart beat in a rhythm next to hers and lulled him to peace.

He awoke with a start as Elen began to thrash. Her eyes were open but unfocused, back in the nightmare of that cell. “It's me,” he said in a calm but firm voice. “You're home, Elen.”

“Cormack?” A breath fell from her lungs as her eyes focused. “I thought—”

“I know.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the bitter scent of her panic. “You're home,” he repeated, “with me.”

Her body began to relax back into the mattress. “Love me,” she whispered. “
Please.
I need to feel you.”

“Always.” He wrapped her tight in his arms, resting his chin above her head. “Let me just hold you for now.”

“I want more.”

“You are so fragile, Elen. I fear—”

“I am immortal,” she argued, “and you will not break me.”

Need rode him hard. He was but a man, and his mate was asking for the very thing he wanted to give, and still . . .

He found her hand, kissed her palm. “I love you, Elen. I love you more than the air that I breathe.” He had professed these same words to her in his mind as a wolf many times over the years, and did so now for her to know how much she meant to him. “If I had to choose between the two, I would choose you.”

He took her hand and placed it on his chest, palm down, running it down his stomach, and then lower, letting her feel the evidence of how difficult it was for him to deny such a request. She needed security. He showed her this wasn't
a rejection. “But I think we should wait until you've had time to heal and absorb what you've been through.”

“I am healed.”

“Not here.” He placed his palm over her heart. “Not where it matters most. But you will be.”

She shuddered, then relaxed, curling deeper into his warmth. “I love you just as much, Cormack, if not more.” Whispered words filled with exhaustion. Even breaths fell from her lips seconds later as she fell back to sleep, secure in his love.

Winter's first snow covered Arwel Passage as every occupant of Rhuddin Village gathered to hear their leader's speech and learn of yesterday's events. The trees in this section grew tall without allowing light to reach the forest floor. It was a canopy of pines that spread to the rivers beyond. Hundreds of faces watched through their vertical trunks, wary and yet curious.

The fact that meetings were usually held in their local church only added to their trepidation.

Elen knew each and every one of them by name, even though they avoided her gaze. Cormack held her hand within his. Porter stood by her other side, and Joshua after him.

Sophie marched with Dylan along the trail, wearing black pants tucked into knee-high boots, a fitted jacket and the serpent whip wrapped around her waist. Dylan wore
warrior gear, staking his claim as alpha and Penteulu of this territory.

“I settled into this land before it was proclaimed as the New World,” Dylan began with a booming voice to silence the whispers. “I did this for my siblings—and for freedom from the Guardians' leadership. As the years passed, more of you came for sanctuary.” He paused, turned toward the right of the trail, and then the left, scanning all the silent faces. “You came to me for protection. I granted it because of my sister's tender heart. Make no mistake . . .” He paused only to look at her. “You are here because of Elen.”

A murmur began to spread across the crowd.

“Pendaran is dead,” Dylan continued. Ignoring the cheers that were raised, he went on. “He was killed by two hands, one a former Bleidd.” He raised his arm toward Cormack. “The other a mother's desperate act to free her daughter.” He watched Sophie as he asserted his next words. “Not unlike my mate, who did the same to protect our son from you.”

Silence descended in the forest.

“I was reminded recently that power does not make a warrior's heart, that it is what a person is willing to sacrifice to protect their family that proves true strength.” He lifted his wife's hand and placed a kiss inside her palm.

Letting her hand drop, Dylan scanned the forest, his stance grave. “You shunned my sister, and I allowed it because of what you all suffered under Guardian rule. I understood you acted on the nature of your wolves. And then you shunned my mate, and still I defended you for the same reason.”

“What is he doing?” Elen took a step forward, but Porter and Cormack stopped her with raised arms across her chest.

“It ends today.” Dylan waved Alise onto the trail. She
was Rhuddin Village's town secretary, but her official job was to create new identities every eighty years or so, over a normal human life span. Elen helped with fake birth and death records. “Any person who shuns my family from this day forth is not welcome in my territory.

“A war has begun,” he continued in the shaken silence. “I heard an hour ago that Rhys has claimed leadership of the Council. Edwyn has mounted a campaign against Isabeau in Minnesota. Our allies are scattered and under the same threat. We don't have enough guards to leave our territories unprotected.” Dylan let the gravity of that news trickle among the crowd. “Guardians will come to claim our lands, and we will fight for our territories. No one is safe.”

“What about the children?” The shout came from a female voice as other opinions united to be heard.

“We will protect the children as best we can,” Dylan proclaimed, “as we always have. If you have no wish to fight—that is okay. There is no shame in survival or wanting peace. But you must leave, because you will not find that here in the days to come. Alise will create new identities for you and provide sufficient funds to live in the mortal world.”

“What if we choose to stay,” another voice called out. The person who spoke was new, a man with a long scar that ran from his left eye across his nose. Fourteen of Pendaran's former servants had requested sanctuary, including Leri. Sadly, the rest had refused and traveled to Maelor's.

“Then you will be trained to fight,” Dylan returned. “You will be given a home and weapons, and you will learn to defend your families from anyone who means you harm.” Taking his wife's hand in his, he walked to where Elen and Cormack stood. “Alise's office will be open all week. You have seven days to decide.”

At the end of the week, Alise issued eighty-four new
identities to descendants of an immortal race beginning a life hidden among humans, and they were sent away with genuine salutes for success and peace on their new journeys.

Four hundred thirty-seven remained to defend a territory rich with life and freedom, for a leader who demanded only what he and his family had already given.

*   *   *

The baby creature was not happy to be tucked inside Cormack's jacket. “Be patient, little one, you will like where you're going.”

He received a whispered hiss in response as tiny claws punctured his chest. The kitten had come from a litter in the village that needed homes now that their providers had left to start a new life. Born in October, it was eight weeks old, with yellow tiger stripes and golden eyes. Its mother had grown accustomed to the scent of wolves, or perhaps the scent of their kind that didn't hunt felines.

The cottage was dark when he entered, the fire in the grate the only source of light. The kettle that Elen used for mixing tonics rested on the floor, cold and empty. No herbs had bubbled over that fire since she returned. Mae's betrayal continued to poison her joy, and might be the hardest for Elen to overcome. Common activities brought sadness with memories. She tried to bury them and move on, he knew, but this pain bled from the heart and needed time. She had called Avon to make sure Gareth continued to look after Saran, but she wasn't ready to return.

At the moment, she sat in the gathering room with a blanket over her lap. A book rested on the arm of her chair as if she'd been trying to read but couldn't concentrate.

“Hi,” Elen said, offering a smile. “Did you get what you needed from the village?”

“I did.” Placing his hands on the arms of the chair, he leaned forward and captured her mouth. She sighed into his embrace, her lips parting to deepen the kiss, reaching her arms around his neck to pull him down farther.

The kitten issued an outraged meow.

And Elen froze, her gaze snapping up to his. A spark of wonder entered winter blue eyes and a few shadows were chased away. “What have you done?”

Reaching inside his jacket, he retrieved the bundle of yellow fur and placed it on her lap. “There are other homes she can go to if you don't think she'll fit well with us.”

“Oh, Cormack . . .” She scooped the kitten up. It blinked at her with curiosity, turned and settled into the crook of her arm, batting at the strings of the knitted blanket that dangled like potential prey. The kitten pounced a second later, and then rolled back into Elen's lap. Soft laughter filled the air. “I think she'll fit perfectly.”

Cormack closed his eyes to that sound, savoring it for the gift it was. “Ms. Hafwen might pox me when she returns.”

“I'm not sure if she will return,” Elen said.

“I am,” he told her, lifting her chin. “She came in winter to help me find you, and she will come again this spring.”

And before then he planned to chase away more shadows.

*   *   *

A white blanket of snow covered Emerald Moss Trail. The hound barked with excitement, sensing his presence. Taliesin sat with his back against a birch tree bowing with the weight of winter. The tree reminded him of Elen, who lived at the end of this trail. Ice coated her soul as it did her forest. In time they would thaw and reach for the sun.

“Tucker,” Sophie called, chasing the hound that refused to keep her pace.

The crunching snow warned of her and Dylan's approach. He stayed, waiting for the moment they saw him.

“Taliesin?” Dylan offered a hand for him to stand. “Bloody hell, where have you been?”

He shrugged. “Around.”

“Are you okay?” Sophie hugged him, as he knew she would. “I've been worried about you.” She leaned back, searching his face with welcoming brown eyes. “Are you staying?”

“I can't.” He stepped back because her offer was too tempting.

Dylan's chest fell with a weary sigh. “Then why are you here, Taliesin?”

He shrugged. “I'm enjoying the quiet between storms.” Taliesin ruffled Tucker's ear and turned to leave. “I'm glad you won this battle, warrior,” he called over his shoulder.

“But how many others will we have to fight?” Dylan challenged back.

More than you want to know.
But Taliesin kept that premonition to himself. There were other visions of their future that offered a balance to the dark times ahead. One in particular would arrive soon. A babe conceived under summer's first moon would take her first breath in the arms of her aunt.

Not all his predictions ended in darkness.

But they all must be allowed to unfold without his interference. Taliesin needed that reminder now more than ever, and he combed his mind's eye for a diversion before his yearning for family and companionship lured him to stay. Fleeting nights with strangers made his loneliness more acute. As he disappeared into the forest, a vision came, one from the not-so-distant past, oddly enough.

Leri was not the only thief of keys.

With bloodlust and revenge driving his beast, Dylan had crouched along the dark hallways of Castell Avon, unaware of the true identity of the scared
Hen Was
who'd addressed him from the shadows . . .

*   *   *

“You are Dylan ap Merin,” Maelorwen said.

“Yes.”

A curious glint sharpened her glare. “I see death in your eyes, warrior, but also honor. Is it Math you've come to claim, or our Rosa?”

“Math.” Denial, he sensed, would only delay his intent.

A contorted smile turned the unscarred side of her mouth. “Then you are correct . . . this single slave and a locked door won't keep you from your task. But I will have your word you'll not harm our mistress.”

“Or what?” he challenged.

“
For
what,” she corrected, holding up a stainless steel key, an oddity amongst a manufactured illusion of medieval grandeur. “Take who you've come for, warrior, and leave the others be.”

“Agreed.”

*   *   *

The vision left as quickly as it had come. Taliesin inhaled a deep breath of crisp air to clear the images that followed. Dylan had learned Maelorwen's identity after Luc had claimed Avon and its recently widowed queen.

When Maelorwen had given Dylan a key, she'd allowed him entrance to Math's private chambers without detection, and in that singular act, she had set the course for their future.

If Dylan or even Mae had known what their actions would bring about, it might have influenced their decisions and caused other outcomes. Rosa would never have sought Luc for help, a vision too clear and unclouded
not
to be a potential reality. Their child would never have been conceived.

No,
Taliesin thought with bitterness coating his throat,
I cannot interfere.

He couldn't be a part of their lives, or anyone else's. Not truly. He couldn't love or be loved, for he would destroy this world to have such a precious thing.

After all, he was the son of the Crone.