Godparent Duties

"Welcome," a priestess said, emerging from the temple with a wide smile. I returned her smile eagerly, climbed the stairs carrying the car seat, and introduced our party. She knew who we were, of course—nobody could mistake Sinclair, with his face plastered across the media daily and his imminent coronation.

But as she greeted us and led us into the temple, I wondered if she knew it was a temple dedicated to my mother. It wasn't exactly public knowledge, but I wondered how much she suspected.

Cora walked beside me, admiring the temple's beautiful, open space, her gaze inevitably drawn to the magnificent, giant gold mosaic of the Goddess behind the altar. After a moment, she smirked.

I giggled, quickly covering my mouth.

The mosaic bore no resemblance to my mother. But it didn't matter, and telling them they were wrong wouldn't help.

The priestess looked at us curiously, but I shook my head apologetically, silently seeking her forgiveness. She smiled warmly and led us to chairs beside a calm reflecting pool.

"So," she said, smiling at the four of us as we sat and peering down at the baby. "We're here to plan little Rafe's dedication to the Goddess, yes?"

I tilted my head. "I thought it was a moon baptism?"

She chuckled. "Yes, a more colloquial term, I think, but not inaccurate. Though, of course, he won't be sprinkled with holy water as in a Christian baptism. Many other traditions, however, are similar."

The priestess turned to Roger and Cora. "You two, I assume, are the godparents?"

Roger nodded solemnly, but Cora looked anxious. I took her hand.

The priestess noticed Cora's unease. "That's all right—it's not a difficult job, though you'll have more responsibilities than the parents. On the evening of the full moon, you two will take the child into the woods alone—"

"The woods? Alone?" Cora asked, aghast.

"Yes," the priestess said, blinking in surprise. "Didn't anyone tell you?"

"No," Cora huffed, staring at me and Sinclair. "I thought we had to go to a church, hold him over a baptismal font, or something."

The priestess hesitated. "No, we plan the event here, but the ceremony itself takes place outdoors, under the first full moon after the child's birth."

"What's the problem, Cora?" I asked gently. "You're an OBGYN—babies are your specialty. You'll be fine."

"No, it's fine," Cora said, looking down, clearly flustered. "I justdidn't know."

The priestess looked to me hesitantly, but I smiled encouragingly and nodded. She then explained the remaining details, answering our questions and ensuring we understood our roles. It was a new experience for me—I wasn't dedicated under the full moon. But Sinclair and Roger were, and it was an important ceremony to welcome my baby into his culture. I was excited.

However, Cora's discomfort shocked me. I frowned, confused and frustrated. This was well within her comfort zone, as far as I knew—all she had to do was carry a baby a short distance into the woods.

What the hell was going on?

When the priestess finished, she reviewed paperwork with Sinclair. I used the opportunity to speak with Cora privately.

"Cora," I said casually, unbuckling Rafe and lifting him. "Will you help me feed him before we go home?"

"Sure," she said. Together, we went to a quiet alcove with a stone bench.

"What's wrong?" I asked, frowning once we were alone.

"Wha—" she stammered, her mouth agape. "I thought we were feeding the baby."

"Oh, he's not hungry," I said. "I just wanted to talk to you. Seriously—what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she murmured, uncomfortable, hugging herself.

"Seriously?" I huffed, swatting at her. "Cora, I know you're upset. Just tell me!"

"Ella," she sighed, meeting my gaze. "I don't think you realize how strange this all is for me. The world has changed. It was different when werewolves were a secret and I was one of the few who knew. Now everyone knows, and there's a huge divide between our worlds! And I know you're a wolf now, and that's great, but…"

She shrugged. "But I'm human," she continued hesitantly. "And it'sweird. You should hear how humans talk about wolves, and how they look at me when I say I work with wolves, that I'm an OBGYN for both wolves and humans." She shrugged, and my heart sank at the pain in her voice. "They look at me like I'm a traitor, Ella. Some human women refuse to see me because I work with wolves."

"Oh, Cora," I murmured, hugging her, the baby between us. "You know we don't feel that way, right? You're family—"

"I know, Ella," she said, nodding but still looking down. "But even in this family—I know you don't see me as different, but" She hesitated, glancing at Sinclair and Roger. "I'm not sure that's true of everyone."

I sighed, following her gaze to Roger. He was the source of it all.

What on earth happened between them?

"Has he said something to you, Cora?" I asked quietly, eager to know and wanting to help, to mend the rift between them. Even if they were neverwhat they were before, it was important that they both felt comfortable around each other, for the baby's sake.

Cora bit her lip. "Not really, Ella," she said thoughtfully. "It's less about what he said and more about how he acted. When we came home and more humans were around, it became clear thatwe're from different worlds. And it wasn't just me who noticed. He felt weird about it, too."