This was Pack Errante.
The whispering began as all eyes drank her in from head to foot.
Lucien was stunned. Whatever he had expected, it was not this. Caia stood at the front door gazing at them, her catlike green eyes cool and calm as she took in the pack staring back at her from his large living room. He could tell by her tentative step toward them that she was more nervous than her placid expression let on. He watched in satisfaction as people came forward to shake her hand politely.
They’d taken his warnings to welcome her to heart.
As distracted as she was by his pack, Caia had yet to notice Lucien, and so he took pleasure in the moment to study her. Her heritage gave her away, he decided—as did her smell. She wouldn’t realize it. How could she? She didn’t know there was anything to look for. She was as graceful as the lykan she was, but looked more fey than wolf. Moreover, she held herself far more aloof than the rest of them. She was like water to their fire.
He was stunned by his reaction to her. He had not expected attraction.
He watched her sleek, light eyes widen now and then, depending on what kind of welcome she was given. Her skin was pale compared to the golden glow of his and his pack’s skin, her figure slender compared to the curvaceous shapes of the other women. He frowned, wondering how much of a problem this was going to be—she didn’t look like one of them at all.
She stopped suddenly, in the middle of shaking one of the mated female’s hands. Her attention was drawn across the other side of the room.
“Uncle Magnus?” Lucien heard her whisper. In an instant, Magnus closed the distance between them and had the small lykan wrapped in his big arms. Lucien smiled at her surprise and then her tentative happiness. This is a good sign, he decided. It was a show of family, and it seemed to ease the tension radiating from his anxious pack. Magnus, of course, seemed unaware of any tension.
“My Artemis!” Magnus exclaimed heartily, holding her slight weight away from him so he could inspect her. “Look at the size of you, Cy. I wouldn’t have recognized you on a clear, full moon!”
She teased her lip shyly between her teeth. She shed no tears, Lucien realized. Not like Ella and the others who had wept at his sister’s return.
He watched as Magnus lavished praise over her. Caia blushed prettily and kept holding on to him.
Suddenly, Magnus looked up. “Caia”—Magnus’s voice rumbled in the room—“I’d like to introduce you to Lucien, Pack Leader.”
Before this moment, Caia had been bemused but happy in the arms of Magnus, his laughing eyes and coarse voice drowning out the buzz of wariness and apprehension she felt oozing from the rest of the pack. Although some seemed genuinely glad to have her returned, excited by her presence for reasons that were not yet clear to her, others—in particular, females—viewed her as a threat. She could feel it in them, see it in their eyes …
The bubble of happiness Magnus had momentarily created popped as he spun her around to introduce her to the Pack Leader.
She had vague memories of a tall, dark-haired young man who was moody and forever in some kind of argument with his parents. He barely spoke to her, never looked at her, and at times she had even felt like he despised her. There had been things said, arguments happened, and she had been sure they had something to do with her, but as a child, she’d had no comprehension of what they meant.
That dark-haired young man had become into a powerful lykan. He towered above most of the others in the room, excluding Dimitri, Magnus, and one young male who was staring at her with an almost cruel twist to his lips. However, it was safe to say that standing at least at six foot six, with broad shoulders and an intimidating build, there was no question as to why this man was Alpha. His face was all sharp lines and hard angles, his eyes like mercury. She couldn’t believe any human would believe this man was not supernatural.
He was intense, watchful, waiting. His scent flooded her—an overwhelming combination of humid earth and rain. In fact, she decided, he smelled exactly the way the air did on the verge of a lightning storm.
Caia held out her hand formally to him and determined not to be intimidated by the brute, held his silver gaze. He seemed to search her eyes for something and upon finding nothing, he clasped her hand in his. A rush of heat exploded like a million darts of fire shooting up her arm.
Damn. She knew her eyes had widened in surprise. She was only appeased when his eyes mirrored her reaction. In reflex, she tried to pull her hand out of his, but he held firm, pressing his calloused skin into her softness.