THE CRY OF THE WOLF

CHAPTER 8: WHISPERS IN THE GROVE

As the first light of dawn began to seep into the sky, the last stars flickered and faded away. Lanecea stepped quietly into the ancient oak grove, the canopy overhead casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air was cool and still, filled with the earthy scent of leaves and the faint whisper of a breeze through the branches. Stryker and Hunter, her loyal white wolf familiars, moved silently beside her, their presence both protective and comforting.

Lanecea's heart was heavy, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and worries. She could not share these burdens with her children or her relatives, and Storm was distant, living primarily with his wife, Herja, and their children. Her steps faltered slightly as she reached the heart of the grove, a secluded clearing surrounded by towering oak trees.

From the shadows, the dryads emerged. Elderon, Thorne, and Rowan stepped forward, their forms shifting seamlessly from tree to human. Their eyes, reflecting the wisdom and age of the forest, focused on Lanecea with concern and understanding. Rowan, the youngest and most handsome of the dryads, offered her a gentle smile, his presence a constant source of comfort.

"Lanecea," Elderon greeted her with a nod. "You look troubled."

Lanecea sighed, her breath misting in the cool air. "I am. I cannot speak to my children about what weighs on my heart, nor can I confide in my relatives. Storm is not here, and I feel...burned. Alone."

Thorne stepped closer, his eyes filled with sympathy. "We are here for you, always."

Lanecea nodded, grateful for their support. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I have decided to invite not only my sister, Adelaide, and her family to the Echoes of Fort Cataraqui event but also Herja and her children, Thorson and Revna."

Rowan's brow furrowed slightly. "That is a risky move, Lanecea."

"I know," Lanecea admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "But if Adelaide comes, it will be the perfect time for the extended family to meet. Herja won't know about my relationship with Storm. If she hears her children calling me 'Mamma,' she will think it's part of the performance, just reenactors playing a role."

Elderon nodded thoughtfully. "And this will allow Storm to focus more on protecting LaSalle, without having to travel between his wife and mistress."

"Yes," Lanecea agreed. "I miss my family, my stepchildren. If we can bring everyone together, even under the guise of a historical event, it might help."

Rowan stepped closer, his gaze steady and reassuring. "You are doing the right thing, Lanecea. Your heart is in the right place."

Lanecea looked up at Rowan, her eyes meeting his. For a moment, she saw the depth of his feelings for her, the unwavering support he offered. She felt a pang of guilt for not acknowledging his loyalty and affection more often.

"Thank you, Rowan," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You're always here for me."

Rowan reached out, taking her hand in his. "Always," he said softly. "You are never alone."

The other dryads stepped forward, surrounding Lanecea with their quiet strength and wisdom. They shared a moment of silence, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Lanecea felt a sense of peace settle over her, the weight of her worries lifting slightly. With the dryads by her side, she knew she could face the challenges ahead. Together, they stood in the grove, a circle of support and love, as the first rays of the sun broke through the canopy, bathing them in a golden light.

As they stood together, the dryads knew well what had started the rift between Lanecea and her family. Since she was a child, her gifts as a Time Keeper, seer, and druid had begun to manifest in stark contrast to her strict Christian upbringing. Men, especially married men, were inexplicably drawn to her. Lanecea stood out, vastly different from their wives, her soft-spoken, whimsical nature, and her nurturing, empathetic demeanour drawing them into her orbit. Accusations of sorcery had soon swirled around her.

Her ability to see into the spirit realm only exacerbated the situation. Lanecea had been caught more than once communicating with her dryad companions and other spirits, fueling the accusations and deepening the rift with her family. The dryads knew the reason behind her family's fear, but it made the estrangement no less painful for Lanecea. Her heart had broken over the loss of her immediate family, and the dryads had sworn to protect their queen from further heartache.

"Your gifts are what make you special, Lanecea," Thorne said softly, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet grove. "Never be ashamed of who you are."

"We will stand by you, always," Elderon added, his tone firm and resolute.

"And I," Rowan said, his voice filled with unspoken emotion. "I will be here, by your side, through it all."

Lanecea felt a tear slip down her cheek, quickly brushed away by Rowan's gentle hand. Standing amidst the ancient trees, her heart was heavy with a mixture of longing and apprehension. The dryads, ever-present guardians and confidants, surrounded her in their ethereal forms, their presence a soothing balm to Lanecea's troubled soul.

"Thank you, my dear friends, for delivering the package to Adelaide and her family," Lanecea said softly, her voice carrying a note of gratitude tinged with sadness. "It means more than words can express."

The dryads, their luminous eyes filled with empathy, nodded in understanding. They had been the silent messengers of Lanecea's love and longing for her estranged family, ensuring that tokens of affection and connection reached them despite the distance and estrangement.

Rowan, one of the younger oak dryads and Lanecea's trusted companion, stepped forward, his gaze filled with concern as he drew her into an intimate embrace. "Dear Lanecea, your pain weighs heavily on our hearts as well. Are you ready to bring Herja and Adelaide into your sanctuary?"

Lanecea leaned into Rowan's comforting embrace, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She had longed for acceptance and reconciliation with her family, especially with Herja, who represented a constant reminder of her complex relationship with Storm. Adelaide's presence, though distant and strained, held the possibility of healing old wounds.

Storm's strategic placement of Timeless Haven Hotel by the oak grove and the Cataraqui River had been a stroke of genius, creating a sanctuary where Lanecea could connect with her ancestors and the past without leaving the safety of her home. Storm, with his unique understanding of Lanecea's gifts, had envisioned a haven where she could be herself, surrounded by those who understood and supported her.

"Storm's vision has become a reality," Rowan murmured, his voice filled with reverence. "The hotel, a bridge between worlds, where the past and present converge seamlessly. But are you prepared for the consequences of inviting Herja and Adelaide into this sacred space?"

Lanecea's gaze drifted towards the hotel, a symbol of Storm's unwavering support and love for her. She knew the risks and complexities of opening her world to her family, especially Herja, her rival in Storm's life, and Adelaide, her strict Christian sister who had severed ties with her long ago.

Desperation for acceptance warred with caution in Lanecea's heart. She wanted her family to see the beauty and magic of her world, to understand her gifts and the depth of her love. But she also feared rejection, judgment, and the potential disruption to the delicate balance she had created.

"I... I don't know," Lanecea whispered, her voice betraying her inner turmoil. "I want them to see, to understand, but I fear the consequences. Will they accept me, my world, or will it only lead to more pain and estrangement?"

Rowan held her gently, his presence a source of comfort and strength. "Take your time, dear Lanecea. We will support you, whatever decision you make. Your sanctuary, your world, must remain a place of peace and acceptance, above all else."

With a heavy heart and a mind filled with uncertainty, Lanecea gazed at the hotel, a symbol of both hope and trepidation. The decision weighed heavily upon her shoulders, knowing that whatever path she chose would shape the course of her relationships and her world. As the sun rose higher, bathing the grove in a warm, golden light, Lanecea knew she could face whatever came her way. She was not alone; she had her dryads, her wolves, and the strength of her own heart.