The Triquetra Bond

Chapter 3

The days after Eimear's transformation feel like an eternity. She moves through them as if walking a tightrope, her power emerging when she least expected it.. It starts with small things—unwanted shifts, bursts of raw strength, and her heightened, unpredictable senses—that make her feel as though she’s losing touch with her former self. Everyday tasks and the little moments she used to share with her family and friends become tense as she struggles to hold back her strength and restrain her instincts. Eimear finds herself avoiding the pack, retreating into the woods surrounding Hare Island, seeking solace in nature, where she can at least breathe without the fear of hurting someone.

She dreams of normalcy, yearning to shift back and forth as seamlessly as the rest of her pack, to walk into a room without sensing the pulse of every heart, hearing the faintest breaths, or feeling the warmth of bodies too close. Yet, despite her longing for belonging, a part of her begins to recognize the unique gift within her. A subtle, budding pride whispers in her mind as she catches her reflection in still waters and sees the silver sheen of her mythical form mirrored back. It may be fearsome, perhaps even unnatural, but it’s powerful. And it’s hers.

However, this pride is fragile, like the thin ice that forms over the lake on cold winter mornings. The slightest hint of discomfort from others is enough to shatter it, leaving her feeling exposed and ashamed.

One afternoon, as Eimear steps into the pack’s communal dining hall, a strange gust of wind brushes past, cold and unnerving, rattling the windows and dimming the fire in the hearth. The air suddenly feels charged, and the pack members’ eyes dart toward her as the flames in the hearth flicker and die. Eimear flushes, backing away from the room as murmurs ripple through the crowd. Her hands, clenched tightly, begin to tremble.

Then there are the animals. Birds appear on ledges outside her window in the middle of the night, their eyes glinting with an odd intelligence, watching her silently as if drawn by some invisible force. The whispers of her packmates, once quiet, now grow louder.

“Did you see how the fire went out when she walked in?”

“They say animals gather around her like she’s some kind of… magnet.”

“Have you felt the temperature change when she’s nearby?”

She hears it all, and even as she tries to ignore the sting of their words, doubt gnaws at her heart. The few friends who once stood by after her failed transformation begin to keep their distance. Once familiar faces are now tinged with a flicker of fear, and each passing day makes her feel like a stranger among them.

Eimear’s world shrinks. She spends her nights alone, huddled in her small room or wandering the cliffs, avoiding the pack and their wary glances. Her father, Declan, tries to reach her, but even he feels at a loss. She senses his worry and frustration and wonders if he regrets the time he spent urging her to embrace her destiny.

One evening, Eimear overhears two packmates near the river. She hides behind a tree, their voices drifting over the water as one of them speaks with quiet fear. “Declan needs to do something. She’s… unstable. What if she loses control?”

“I know, but what can he do? She’s his daughter.”

“If she were anyone else, she would’ve been exiled by now.”

The words hit her like a physical blow, and she stumbles back, her hand pressed to her mouth to muffle a sob. Her body trembles with frustration, grief, and simmering anger that she can’t quite explain. That night, she barely sleeps, her mind a tangle of questions and bitterness. She’s a threat to her people, and it seems there’s no escape from that truth.

A few days later, Eimear's father calls a pack meeting. The gathering takes place in the courtyard and word quickly spreads through the ranks. Even from her secluded spot in the woods, Eimear can feel the energy of the meeting; the low hum of voices and anxious murmurs reach her ears like a wave.

She stands behind a cluster of trees, hidden from view but close enough to listen, her heart pounding in anticipation. Declan’s voice cuts through the hum of voices like a blade.

“My fellow packmates,” Declan begins, “I know you’ve all felt it. There is a change among us. Eimear’s transformation is unlike any we have seen. But she is still one of us.” There’s a beat of silence before a familiar and tense voice cuts through the air. “But Alpha, she’s not like us anymore. She has powers that we don’t understand. We’ve all seen it.”

A murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd, each affirmation a dagger to Eimear’s heart. Her breath catches in her throat as another voice speaks up. “She’s dangerous. If she can’t control herself, then she’s a threat to the pack.”

Eimear’s chest tightens, tears stinging her eyes as she listens to her packmates’ condemnation. She bites down hard on her lip, feeling the cold wind whip around her, almost as if it, too, disapproves of her presence. But then she hears Liam’s voice, strong and indignant. “Eimear is family. She would never harm any of us. She’s been trying to figure this out on her own, without asking any of us for help.”

Sean chimes in, his tone softer but equally firm. “She’s still the same Eimear we’ve always known. Can’t we give her a chance to learn?” Eimear’s heart aches at their defence, but the support of her brothers is quickly overshadowed by another accusation.

“And what if she can’t learn?” a sharp, cold voice interjects. “What if this… thing she’s become takes over, and she loses control? Are we supposed to wait until she hurts someone?”

Declan raises a hand, his tone stern. “Enough. That is my daughter you are talking about. The Moon Goddess herself gave her this gift.”

A sceptical voice calls out, “But is it a gift, Alpha? Or a curse?”

The silence that follows this question is thick with tension, punctuated only by the rustling of leaves in the wind. Eimear’s hands clench into fists, her nails digging into her palms as hurt and anger surge within her, simmering dangerously close to the surface.

As the pack’s debate grows more heated, a sudden crack of golden lightning splits the darkened sky. The entire courtyard falls silent, pack members frozen as the air hums with mystical energy, and dark clouds roll in, heavy and ominous.

The hawthorn tree glows faintly, its gnarled branches seeming to bow in reverence as a figure steps into the courtyard, emerging from the shadows. Eimear’s breath catches in her throat as she recognizes her—the Moon Goddess, Rhiannon. Her silver hair cascades like rivers of light and her eyes shimmer like stars.

As she moves forward, the crowd parts, some kneeling instinctively, others standing wide-eyed and trembling. Rhiannon’s gaze sweeps over each member, her silent judgment pressing down like the weight of the storm above them.

Her voice is a low, resonant melody that reverberates through the bones of each pack member, silencing the murmurs. “Haven pack,” she begins, her tone both warm and stern. “Why do I find you in such turmoil? Why do I hear whispers of fear and suspicion against one of your own?”

No one dares to answer. Instead, they cast wary glances at one another, guilt flashing in their eyes. When no one speaks, she shifts her attention to Declan, her gaze piercing and unyielding.

“Declan O’Connor,” she says, her voice as soft as a whisper but powerful enough to carry through the courtyard. “Do you truly not see what your daughter has become?”

Declan straightens, his gaze steady as he replies, “I see my daughter, Moon Goddess. But the pack…. they fear what they cannot understand.”

Rhiannon’s expression softens, though her voice remains firm. “Eimear is no ordinary wolf, nor is she a danger to you. She is the Cosantóir—a protector gifted by the Moon, destined to safeguard not only this pack but all supernatural beings of Ireland.”

“Step forward, Eimear O’Connor,” Rhiannon calls, her voice gentle. Eimear hesitates but then with a deep breath, she steps out from her hiding place into the light. Her gaze meets Rhiannon’s, who nods in approval, her eyes shining with fierce pride.

“Eimear,” Rhiannon says softly, “you are the Cosantóir, destined to protect these lands and all who dwell in them. Your form is unlike any other because your purpose is unlike any other. You are both wolf and eagle. The power you possess is meant to guide and defend.” She looks at the pack. “Her presence here is not a disruption, but a beacon. She will shield you when shadows gather and dark forces attempt to breach your borders. You would do well to remember this.”

“Your form is unique because your purpose is unique,” Rhiannon tells her. “You are both guardian and shield. Your power is not a threat but a blessing. And to those who doubt...” She looks at the pack, her gaze sharp. “Embrace her,” Rhiannon continues, her tone unwavering, “for to reject her is to weaken your bond, your unity.” Her gaze turns piercing as it shifts back to Declan. “Her path is intertwined with all of yours. She is your family and your future.”

Her tone softens. “Eimear, you are not alone in this journey. Your destiny is intertwined with others. At the Mating Ball, you will meet those who will walk beside you—two mates who will share your purpose and strengthen your path.”

Eimear’s heart pounds, her nerves swirling with uncertainty and curiosity. She hadn’t considered that her destiny might be shared with others, and her mind races with questions.

The crowd remains silent, absorbing the Goddess’s words. Rhiannon lowers her head. “Remember,” she whispers, low enough for only Eimear to hear, “you are never alone, child of the moon. Your path may seem daunting, but you carry the strength of all who came before you. Trust in yourself, and trust in those you are yet to meet.”

With that, Rhiannon turns her gaze skyward. A golden shimmer surrounds her, and in an instant, she is gone, leaving the pack in a charged silence, her words echoing in their hearts.

Eimear makes her way to her family, her mind still spinning from Rhiannon’s declaration. Two mates? The very idea seemed impossible to grasp.

Declan cleared his throat, his expression thoughtful yet serious. “Eimear, this is both a responsibility and a gift. Whomever your mates are, they will share your duty to protect and guide.”

Maeve’s eyes sparkled as she squeezed Eimear’s shoulder. “You’ve always been meant for something extraordinary, my love. These mates will help you shoulder the weight of your destiny. You are not alone in this.”

However, her brothers couldn’t resist teasing her. “Our little sister with two mates?” Liam smirked, nudging Sean. “Guess you’ll have to teach them both how to keep up with you.”

Sean chuckled, adding, “Better not let them outshine us, Eimear. Family honour and all.”

Eimear felt a reluctant smile tug at her lips despite herself, even as her face turned red. “I don’t even know how to handle one mate, let alone two,” she muttered, prompting another round of laughter from her brothers.