The Triquetra Bond

Chapter 4

The days leading up to the Mating Ball were filled with a mix of anticipation and dread for Eimear. The pack buzzed with excitement as every young wolf prepared for the grand event. The ball wasn’t just a night of celebration; it was a rite of passage, a moment when many would find the partners they were meant to share their lives with. For Eimear, though, it loomed like a judgment day. Whispers spread through the pack, curiosity mingled with speculation. Would she attend? What would she wear? And some dismissed what Rhiannon had said by asking - Could the Cosantóir even find mates like the rest of them?

One evening, Eimear escaped to the cliffs overlooking the pack’s lands. The wind tangled her hair as she gazed out at the darkening horizon. She closed her eyes and let the energy of the place wash over her. A warmth unlike the cold winds filled her chest, and she felt a faint whisper, soft and melodic, in her mind. Images of a moonlit forest danced behind her eyelids, and a fleeting sense of comfort enveloped her. It was Rhiannon. Though the vision was brief, it steadied Eimear’s fraying resolve, a gentle reminder that she wasn’t walking this path alone.

When she returned home, she sat alone by the fireplace, absently tracing patterns in the ash with her fingers. Maeve came and sat beside her, folding her hands in her lap. “Eimear,” she began gently, “you’ve been so quiet. What is on your mind?”

Eimear kept her gaze on the fire. “It’s everything. This ball, the expectations. Everyone else will be with their kind, and then there’s me—the weirdo that's half bird, half wolf.” Her voice trembled as she admitted her deepest fear. “What if my mates, whoever they are, take one look at me and want nothing to do with this?”

Maeve reached out, cupping Eimear’s hand in her own. “Eimear, listen to me. The Moon Goddess chose you for a reason. Your mates—whoever they are—will know that too. They’ll see beyond appearances. You’ve been chosen for something extraordinary, and your mates will be extraordinary as well.”

Before Eimear could answer, Sean wandered in, having overheard snippets of their conversation. He plopped down beside her and nudged her shoulder with a grin. “Come on, Eimear. Do you know how many of the guys in our pack will be jealous when they see you walking in there, looking like a total goddess?” He winked. “Besides, you’re the daughter of an Alpha. If anything, you’ll have wolves lining up just to get your attention.”

The next morning, Maeve decided they would begin preparations for the ball. “Come on,” she said, tugging Eimear out of her brooding. “We’ll find you a gown that captures your spirit.”

Maeve whisked Eimear away to visit an old seamstress, whose creations were renowned across the pack. She greeted them with a knowing smile, her wise eyes lingering on Eimear. “You are a rare creature, child,” she said as she measured Eimear. “The Moon Goddess marks her chosen ones with beauty, but their strength is what defines them.” She then began gathering bolts of silver and grey fabric. “Let’s see what we can do.”

After hours of deliberation, they settled on a gown of flowing silver silk. Its fluid texture mirrored moonlight on water, and the shifting hues complemented the pearly whites and greys of Eimear’s fur. The dress was simple yet graceful, featuring thin straps that left her shoulders bare and a fitted bodice that flowed down in soft waves, it also left her wings visible—an intentional choice that made her nervous yet oddly proud.

In the days leading to the ball, Eimear grew more attuned to her powers. While trying on her gown for final adjustments, her anxiety flared—and with it, so did a sudden gust of wind that nearly blew out the seamstress’s candles. “Oh dear,” the seamstress chuckled. “You’ll need to work on controlling that, my dear.”

Eimear’s cheeks burned. Her powers often surged unpredictably, and these instances weren’t confined to small outbursts. Once, in the woods, her frustration caused frost to spread across the ground at her feet, a phenomenon that left the forest animals scattering nervously.

Amidst the growing pressure, Eimear found solace in her family. One evening at the dinner table, Sean said grinning. “You’re going to walk into that ball, and everyone’s jaws will drop. Half of them will be terrified; the other half will be in love.”

“And don’t forget,” Liam added, tossing a pouch of herbs to her, “if you need an extra boost, this is for courage. Or maybe just to keep Sean quiet.”

Sean elbowed Liam playfully and added, “Seriously, Eimear. You’ve got this. We’ll be right there in the crowd, cheering you on and making sure no one gives you any trouble. If anyone dares to, they’ll have to answer to us.”

Her father offered quieter support. One evening, he found her staring out over the cliffs again, deep in thought. “You’re worried about the pack,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Eimear nodded. “What if I can’t control myself? What if they see me as a danger again instead of one of them?”

Declan placed a hand on her shoulder.“Eimear, I trust you. The pack may not understand everything, but they will come around. And until then, you have us to help you. We’re in this together.”

His words bolstered her resolve, but as the night of the Mating Ball approached, Eimear’s emotions ran high, a tempest of hope and doubt swirling within her. She often found herself wandering the forest alone, testing her powers and struggling to contain them.

On the eve of the ball, Maeve took her aside, brushing a gentle hand over Eimear’s hair. “This is it, my love,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Whatever happens tomorrow, remember that you are more than your form. You are Eimear O’Connor, daughter of an Alpha, the chosen of Rhiannon. Stand tall and let the world see who you are.”

Eimear nodded, her heart pounding as Maeve kissed her forehead. She had spent two years hiding, feeling like an outsider among her people. Tomorrow, she would step out of the shadows, revealing herself to the supernatural world as something both strange and powerful.