By six thirty the driveway was full of cars and the pack was settling in their finery out back. The thrum of their voices floated through the quiet house. Caia took a deep breath. She would sit in the front row beside Ella, Lucien, Ryder, and Yvana. As Ella had already mentioned, her seat with the family and the fact that she was wearing the same color as Irini and Ella was deliberate, so that the pack viewed her as family as much as they themselves did. She would sit between Ella and Lucien, since Yvana, although she had apologized for her outburst, was clearly still affronted by Caia’s presence.
“It’s time.” Ella took hold of her hand and led her through the kitchen behind Lucien and then Aidan’s family.
“Ella, are you crying already?” she whispered, aghast at the tears in the Elder’s eyes.
“I’m just so happy and yet so sad. I just got her back, you know.”
Caia squeezed her hand. “You still have her. She’s not going anywhere.”
Ella squeezed her hand in retun then as they walked in silence to their seats. The arrival of the family of the mating couple caused the pack’s conversation to lower into silence.
Irini and Aidan approached Magnus from either side. He stood with his back to the woods and smiled at the couple before formally welcoming the pack. When he stilled, so did everyone else, and Caia felt her skin prickle at the hush that fell over them. Magnus tilted his head and stared up at the moon. Caia followed his movement, but then looked back at him when she realized that was what everyone else was doing.
“Artemis,” he called in his brandy-warm voice, “Potnia Theron,” he appealed, using the lykans’ “mother” title for the goddess. The rest of his recital was in Greek—the mystery of those words floated across Caia’s skin, as gentle and awakening as the night’s breeze. “Artemis,” he finished, taking Aidan’s hand and placing it on top of Irini’s and holding the two in a bind. “Potnia Theron,” he continued in English, “bind these two souls together in eternal devotion to each other and to you, their mother.”
Caia gasped as Irini’s and Aidan’s eyes widened, watching as a moon-colored light emanated from their clasped hands and rushed exquisitely through their bodies. Magnus’s expression stayed unchanged, but Caia was in awe. No one else seemed as astounded as her. Instead they remained still as statues while Magnus studied the light as it burned brighter before it abruptly extinguished.
Magnus grinned and released the couples’ hands. “Artemis has blessed this union.”
Aidan grinned and pulled Irini into a heated kiss that made Caia cheeks hot. Irini laughed and pulled back but only to smile happily at her mother. The pack jumped to their feet, whooping and cheering as they rushed toward the mated pair with congratulations.
Caia stepped aside to let the others by.
“Amazing, huh?” Jaeden appeared, resting her chin on Caia’s shoulder, draping an elegant arm over the other.
“It was beautiful,” Caia whispered.
“I remember when I saw my first. It was for Christian and Lucia. Pretty awesome … to know that Artemis is really out there, watching over us.”
Caia glanced over her shoulder at her friend. “If she hadn’t bound Irini and Aidan together, that would have meant they weren’t soul mates?”
“Yeah. But supernaturals rarely confuse these things.”
“But it happens?” Caia bit her lip, sympathizing with lovers who had gone before Artemis, believing themselves to be in love, and then having Artemis refuse to mate them. “Artemis says no, and a couple can’t … have children together?”
Jaeden nodded distractedly, her eyes on the happy couple. “Yeah, exactly. Come on.” She grabbed Caia’s hand and pulled her toward the kitchen. “Get your head out of the dark clouds of ‘what if land’ and into the house. We need to choose the music before someone else destroys the night with ABBA or something.”
“I like ABBA,” Caia mumbled, glancing back at the crowd around Irini and Aidan. She was glad for them. They seemed safe and happy in their little world. She hoped it would always be so for them.
His house was filled with laughter and warmth—people in the sitting room, kitchen, hallways, all drinking, dancing, and celebrating. It was a fantastic atmosphere, and he really should be more into it than he was. But he was distracted.
Lucien leaned against the stairwell in the hallway, beer in hand, watching the festivities. Aidan was dancing to Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah with Irini in the sitting room. Her face was flushed with joy and excitement, and Lucien was more than glad for her. One of his biggest regrets was that Irini had to leave her pack behind. Eleven years was a long time to be away, but she was home and in love, and she was safe. That was all that mattered now.