Nyall smelled Del’s scent mixed with incense and medicinals and knew she had been sitting with Mamó, whom she loved as her own grandmother. Essie was out on the terrace having a cigarette. He set his knapsack and saddlebag of books on the table and went to see Mamó first. He was struck by how small and frail she looked as she slept, two things he had never associated with the ancient shewolf. His grief was like a knife twisting in his gut.

Nyall turned and went out to stand beside Essie. There was a change in her scent, he couldn’t smell a male on her.

As if sensing his question in the weird way both she and her sister had, Essie just answered it unasked, “No, I haven’t had sex lately, Comhnyall.” She did not sound happy.

“Have I ever said anything when you did?” Comhnyall questioned.

“Well, no, but Louis did. He asked me if I had given up being a travelling slut.” Her words dripped with bitterness. “Why is it that male wolves think they are the only ones that get to have any fun?”

“Not all of us do. Did he really call you a traveling slut?” Nyall couldn’t hide his surprise. Essie was one of the best female warriors he had ever had the honor to train, and her work of gathering information and talent for discovering hidden truths prevented several packs from being taken.

She blew a ring of smoke, “Yep, he just stood there sneering at me. Phsh, he doesn’t know anything about me. He likes to remind me I was a slut because I slept with him. I like sex, I do, but I haven’t had sex since Zane got killed.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Nyall reminded.

Essie snorted in disagreement and lit another cigarette. “How about you? Any willing she wolves in the mountains?”

“Aye. Plenty who want a wolf to warm their beds and fill their bellies full of pups but none willing to live a life mated to one who is sworn in service to the Goddess. Good for a toss for some males, but to me, they all smelled like vanity and selfishness,” he answered.

“Vanity and selfishness?” she quirked an eyebrow at him.

Not wanting to bring up Heather who had offended Essie by offering her employment as a dominatrix the one time they met. So, he described the unmated pack she-wolves who threw themselves at all the warriors to the point he had been forced to ban them from the training grounds.

“Imagine cheap, sickly-sweet perfume sprayed on sour, rotting roadkill,” he clarified, and she laughed weakly.

“Ode de carcass, sounds fragrant.” They both smirked then stood quietly before she added, “I know you prefer the smell of incense and fresh snow.”

He growled a warning, “Don’t start, it was just a kiss and I had no right to it.”

Essie sighed heavily, “You two are ridiculous, honestly! Perfectly match to bide your time here and you run from each other like one of you has fleas. At least, get you some while you’re on the road.”

“Not all of us are traveling sluts,” he added casually and was rewarded with a stern smack on the back of the hand as he defended the back of his head.

“One of these day, oh great warrior wolf, I am gonna beat the snot out of you,” she snarled playfully. He chuckled. They stood in silence for a while, then Essie tipped her head. “Gotta jet. Oh, there’s an eclipse tonight. Del wants you to bring Mamó and Ainsley and come to the reflecting pool.”

He nodded as she left, then went back to sit by Mamó.

Delilah was standing, staring at the moon, next to the large reflecting pool at the top of the temple. She was in the sheer floating gown of an oracle as though she was preparing to have a vision. Nyall almost couldn’t breathe, she was so beautiful. There was a simple mat lying beside the pool, between two kneeling cushions, another was across the pool. She smiled sadly at him as he laid Mamó down and Ainsley knelt beside her. She kissed Mamó’s head as she knelt on the other side. Essie stood over her shoulder.

Mamó’s ancient voice was a raspy whisper, “Ainsley, never quit ye gift, always follow the Goddess. Nothing is too small to be unimportant. Del, be strong and faithful enough for all they who are weak. Essie, do what ye need to do, even if ye are afraid and the Goddess will save ye when ye least expect it. Comhnyall, ye need to have courage to believe, ye faith will be tested, do not lose ye temper or ye sorrows will come new. All of ye be loved in this world and on the Moon. Tis time, my lasses, sit him down and we will pray.”

Nyall stared at her confused as Essie guided him over to the cushion across the pool and handed him the strange blue-green oval. It felt cool in his hands, tingly. It looked like a piece of the Moon’s Tides had been frozen into the saucer-sized cabochon. He had held it once before when Del had taken him to meet his enemy. It had been a nightmare that he still had nightmares about.

“What is going on?” Nyall asked nervously, across from him, Mamó laid on her mat as Ainsley and Delilah’s heads were bowed. Ainsley’s mouth moved in silent prayers as Del’s voice chanted. He could feel their power. In the reflection of the pool, he could see a dimple of the moon disappear. Looking up he realized, it was an eclipse. The moon had never seemed so big.

“Do you remember when you told Del the only thing you wanted in the world was to see Moire one more time? Well, you’re going to. Drink this.” Essie practically poured a bitter liquid down his throat before he could protest.

Almost immediately everything began to spin and the stone in his hands pulsed. “Nyall, no matter what you see, what you feel, know that your body is still on this side of the Tides. When Ainsley calls you, rub the stone and come back. If you stay, they both will die with Mamó. Do you understand?” She grabbed his face and turned it toward her. His eyes were glazed, as she demanded, “Nyall? Nyall! Do you understand?”

“Aye, rub the stone to come back when Ainsley calls,” he mumbled.

“That’s right, or both Ainsley and Del will die too.” She sounded so afraid, but he couldn’t understand what she was afraid of, going to the Moon was a wonderful thing. “Now Nyall, look at the reflection of the moon.”

It seemed like only moments had passed but nearly the entire face of the moon was shifting from dark to blood red. The strange Tide-colored stone pulled him forward and he fell into the pool, it dragged him further and further down then suddenly up toward the light into a churning aquamarine sea. He choked as his lungs sought air and he fought in the rolling waves. He was surprised when he hit the shore, clothing soaked and torn, but the Tide stone was still in his hand. Familiar hands grabbed him and dragged him away from the waves, a warm body supported him as he staggered, blinded by the salt water, until he felt grass under his bruised feet and collapsed. The familiar smell of dawn and flowers mixed with sea air breathed on him.

“Oh Comhnyall, what has happened?” It was Moire’s voice. “Ye are not supposed to be here yet.”

Comhnyall blinked the sea water from his blue eyes, looking up into Moire’s citrine-colored ones as he gasped for breath. “Mamó... Ainsley… and Del… I did not know what they had planned,” he choked out the words. “I just wanted to see ye, I’ll never leave again.”

His head lay in her lap as she brushed his wet bangs aside. “Oh Comhnyall, ye are a fool. Ye should not have come yet but I am glad ye are here, I love ye.” Then she bent down and kissed his lips.

It was the best feeling he had in seven long years, the only thing that felt even close was when he had kissed Del. Suddenly, he felt he had to confess to her, “Moire, I kissed another in love, I did not mean to. I...”

“Shhh,” she pressed a finger over his lips. “Comhnyall, I do not expect ye to be alone for all the time that has passed. Ye need someone to love ye and to love. I do not care what happened there, I just wanted ye to have some happiness.”

He sat up and turned to face her, “But Moire, I love ye. I have missed ye every moment of every day like there is a hole in my soul. I feel ye looking down on me sometimes, I can’t live without ye. It is too hard.” He choked out the last words.

She was so beautiful, just like that afternoon in the meadow, when Ainsley had put flower crowns on their heads. Moire was still wearing a crown of flowers.

Moire seemed so relieved he was there. “Ye are here now.”

Her lips were as soft as Nyall remembered and kissing her again after so long was a balm to his soul. She sighed happily in his arms, smiling up at him.

“Comhnyall, come with me, our families are…” She started to lead him further from shore.

“Comhnyall... Comhnyall... say goodbye and come home...” Ainsley’s voice sounded so small and so far away over the crashing of the waves.

“Why that is Ainsley calling ye back to the world?” Moire asked, eyes wide.

“Aye, but I’ll not be goin’, I’ll not leave ye again,” he growled.

“Why are ye here if ye be not dead?” Moire demanded in shocked realization.

“I told the Delphi Oracle I only wanted one thing in the world and that was to see ye again. She, Mamó, and Ainsley opened the Gate of the Tides. They want me to choose another, but I’ll not go back and loose ye again. I won’t give you up.”

Gasping, Moire trembled, “Ainsley said that I could have another, so ye could. Was this just so ye could say goodbye to me?”

“I won’t do it!”

“Comhnyall!” A coppery-haired woman he did not recognize strode purposely toward him. “Ye need to be gone.” He realized it was a younger Mamó, her fiery gold eyes burned into him.

“Nay, Mamó, I’ll not go,” he shouted at her.

“So ye would kill Ainsley and Del for ye own selfishness?” she scolded.

“What?!” Moire exclaimed. “Comhnyall, go back. I love ye but go. I do not want my sister to die before she is bound to her mate.”

“But then she’ll be with us too!” he argued.

“Ye are a temperamental fool, Comhnyall! They will be lost,” Mamó snarled. “Ye were sent here to say goodbye to Moire.”

Nyall stared at the younger Mamó defiantly, but before he could retort, he noticed a dark-haired wolf hurrying toward him. A wolf he had trained with at the Gate, Delilah’s mate, Luca Dolbeau.

“Mamó! He cannot stay, he must take the crown and go.” Luca looked desperate, pleading, “Cohmnyall, please I know you care for Delilah, she is yours now if you want. I will take care of Moire. I will love her and cherish her as a mate should. Just hurry and go back to the world so Delilah doesn’t die.”

“No! Del is your mate, Luca, and Moire is mine.” Comhnyall felt the urge to shift and fight this wolf.

“Stop it! Both of ye!” Moire snapped at the posturing males. “Mamó, what do they mean? What do ye mean ‘lost’?” Moire sounded worried.

“Moire, Ainsley will more than die, her and Delilah’s souls will be lost forever on the Tides if Comhnyall does not leave when next she calls to him,” Mamó announced. Her eyes held a bright fierceness he had seen so many times. “Comhnyall, ye are here to say goodbye to Moire so her crown can pass to another. The war is comin’ and ye need to be a proper king, and to be a proper king, ye must have a strong queen.”

“Mamó, I cannot.” His heart was breaking.

“Ye must, m’ogha. (my grandson) The wolves of the land need ye. The faithful of the Moon need ye.”

“Please,” Luca begged, his pain was evident as he surrendered his mate, “Please, choose her. Please save her.”

Moire put her hands on either side of Nyall’s battered face, “Please, Comhnyall, Go. I do not want my sister to be lost. I love ye and I would have waited for ye but I want ye to have a long and happy life there. Ye need to choose another to be stronger. I want for all the wolves there to be led and protected as they should be.”

“Moire, please,” Nyall begged.

“Comhnyall... I...” Moire started, she took off her braided flower crown. “I died, my fate ended the night our pack fell. Yours didn’t.” She wiped a tear before placing the crown over his hand, leaving the blossoms hanging around his wrist. “Ye will need a queen to rule beside ye and give ye pups. She will love ye as I would have.”

He touched her cheek, he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t see himself live their dreams and fate with another.

“It will be alright, Comhnyall. The Goddess will give ye a boon, whomever ye choose will become your true,” Mamó explained. “There’s not time for another generation to be born. A king will rise from this one for good or for ill. The war will decide if it will be you or the burning one. If the burning ones win, the whole world could be lost.”

“Comhnyall.... Comhnyall, please... come home, Del is dyin’,” Ainsley’s distant voice pled.

Moire pressed her lips to his, it felt so good. “I love ye... and I release ye,” she whispered against his lips.

She stepped away from him and took Luca’s hand, “I accept the boon the Moon has given us.” Their fingers glowed as they touch.

Nyall felt his soul numbed cold, it had never felt this empty. He had never not been with his mate until her death and even then, he could feel her when the Moon rose, but now there was nothing. He realized he was still holding the Tide Stone, the flower crown had turned into new moon marks running around his wrist and up his arm. He choked on a sob, looking at Moire for one last moment, then placed his hand on the stone.

“Please take care of her, Luca. Goodbye, mo ciele.”

There was a yank and he fell back through the churning waters of the Moon’s Tides.

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