Little Red's Riding

Wolfsbane?

They were walking through the forest back towards the village and Dahlia wasn't speaking to either her mate or her mother. Instead her arms were firmly folded across her chest and Silas was walking a couple of steps behind her and off to one side, letting her set the pace.

Any time Silas attempted to speak, Dahlia would immediately say "No" before he could even get three words out of his mouth. Her mother was trying not to laugh. Having known her daughter for much longer than Silas had, she knew that he simply needed to give Dahlia time to adjust to the idea of their possibly growing family. She would come around shortly.

Silas' mind was on the matter that Mrs. Lemp had shared that she believed he needed to look into, which was causing Dahlia to give her mother the silent treatment from the moment she had brought up her suspicions. He had been struck speechless when she had explained what might have been happening up until Dahlia came to live with him a few days ago, his stomach twisting uncomfortably at the idea that she was suggesting.

He had hardly been able to believe his ears when Dahlia's mother had revealed to them the reason that she believed that Dahlia did not appear to have a wolf and could not shift. Silas had needed all of his self control, in that moment, to control his wolf, as all of the possible ramifications flashed through his mind.

While they had still been sitting at the table, and as she packed, Silas had been thinking of when and how to tell Dahlia's mother about what her oldest daughter had done, or at least what he believed she had done, on the previous night. He was still debating internally whether Dahlia needed to know the details, or really whether she needed to know anything at all about what had gone on in the forest while she was waiting for him at home, when Mrs. Lemp had paused her packing and sat heavily at the table, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she spoke. This, he knew even from his brief interactions with her, was out of character from her normal behavior.

"Lilia shifted when she was ten." Dahlia had nearly dropped the scone that she had finally picked back up to eat. She had stared back and forth between her mother and her mate in confusion, as if trying to solve a riddle. It was nearly impossible for her to imagine the straightlaced woman who had raised her as a girl, shifting into a werewolf. Lilia Bakerson hated everything that wasn't ordinary and had spent most of the waking hours of Dahlia's life trying to crush anything extraordinary out of her to make her just like everybody else in the village.

Dahlia frowned. Was this why?

"Lilia hated it. She hated the wolf side of herself. She said that it made it impossible for her ever to be truly normal. Before she cut me off entirely, and before you were born, during one of my trips into town, we had tea and she told me that she'd found 'the cure' to being a werewolf. This was after she met the man she married and before she met her mate and ended his life."

"Of course, I had no idea then that she was dabbling in the dark arts or that she had uncovered the heritage of her father's legacy, that I suppose is just as much a part of her as her werewolf side. She told me that it was potion and that she would never have to shift again, as long as she took a draught once a week on Sunday."

"Have to shift?" Dahlia had asked, looking puzzled. "Do werewolves have to shift at all?"

"Our wolves become restless if they aren't let out to run rather frequently. At least once a week." Silas said with a small shrug. "Holding them in for longer periods of time could lead to madness in both the human and the wolf." Dahlia nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.

"You said on Sunday?" her first question answered, Dahlia had balled up her hands in fists as she thought of her next question.

"Yes, my child." Dahlia's eyes had flashed and for a moment, Silas thought they looked almost amber, but maybe it was just the light.