Celtic Moon by Jan DeLima Read Free Book Online Page B

leg barely supported weight—but she managed to hobble over fallen limbs and narrow trails until the sound of rushing water reached her ears. She waded in shallow water for hours, staying close to the shore and off the more slippery rocks with deeper currents, hoping she’d gone far enough to obscure her trail. The burning in her leg had disappeared long ago, numbed by the frigid water.
    Fearing hypothermia, she crawled onto the bank of the stream and listened for footsteps, or voices, or the warning of a too silent forest, but instead heard chickadees in the trees and moving cars in the distance.
    The interstate was just up ahead.
    It was then, with the sound of freedom within her reach, that Sophie paused and her heart cried out. Because her heart, despite everything, belonged to Dylan. No matter what he was, no matter what he’d done, she loved him.
    She would always love him.
    And for a moment, just a moment, she wondered if she could conform to his will, to this magical world that hated her humanity. To live in a mansion of stone. To sleep in Dylan’s bed.
    Was such a prison so bad?
    She wrapped her arms around her belly and cried, hating the emotional weakness that Dylan, or perhaps pregnancy, brought on. Hot trails streamed down her frozen cheeks and her heart felt the loss to her very core. But in the end, no man was worth her soul.
    No man was worth living in fear for her child.
    Her decision made, she wiped away her wretched tears and crawled toward the sound of freedom . . .
     * * * 
    A CAR DOOR SLAMMED SHUT, SNAPPING S OPHIE BACK TO the present, and the sound of rushing water faded in the distance.
    The lake house loomed above her, rectangular like a colonial, constructed with fieldstone and mortar and large pine beams. It still had its original movable shutters, painted black to match the front paneled door. Ivy branches snaked their way up the front porch, dormant still, even though the calendar had already proclaimed spring.
    It had been built on an angle, facing the mountain. The afternoon sun cast a deceivingly warm glow across Fiddlehead Lake just a few yards away. Smoke rose from the chimney, letting her know
he
was in there,
waiting
.
    Sophie had the distinct urge to vomit. Intense anxiety had that effect on her.
    “This is so cool,” Joshua exclaimed beside her, eyes wide, taking it all in. “That’s Fiddlehead Lake, then?” He leaned his head toward the large body of water, judging the angle of the afternoon sun. He’d been forced to study maps of the area, to learn every escape route, just in case.
    Sophie nodded. “We’re at the southern part of the lake.”
    He pointed toward a grove of white birch trees in the distance. “That’s where the lake feeds into Wajo Stream, which leads to the Penobscot River.”
    “Yes,” she said with approval. “Rhuddin Village is just the entrance of your father’s territory. There’s a clinic five miles north if you continue along the road we entered on, then your father’s house, and another building for guards. They all circle along the outskirts of the wilderness reserve. And everything connects to the mountain—”
    “—and the best way out is through the waterways,” he finished. “Don’t worry, Mom. I remember everything you’ve told me.”
    Sophie ran her hand down his arm, needing to touch him, fighting every urge to throw him back in that car and drive away before she lost him to this other world forever. But another fear, a greater fear, kept her grounded. “I love you.”
    “Love you too, Mom.”
    She had professed those words so many times over the years that his response was automatic. She didn’t care. She had needed to hear it.
    The front door opened and Dylan walked out. She straightened, letting her hand drop away from Joshua’s arm.
    Dylan remained silent, an announcement unnecessary. His mere presence demanded attention. He wore jeans and a black flannel shirt that hugged his massive frame. His once