Ryder stood beside Lucien, and on his other side were two unfamiliar women. The first was a small figure with long red hair and wide violet eyes. She was attractive and delicate, like a doll, and Caia guessed, by the way she held herself, older than she looked. The scent Caia picked up from her was a strong vanilla, so strong she could almost taste it.
Next to this woman was the most stunning creature Caia had ever seen. Tall, only a few inches shorter than Ryder, with a slender figure and graceful limbs. Her perfect face was framed by short, sharp blond hair that followed her jawline in strands of thick silk. Her ice-blue gaze curious.
“Hello.” The redhead had a slight accent. “I’m Marion.”
A wave of feeling fell over Caia, a sensation of safety, like she could trust this woman with anything. She took the woman’s proffered hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I have a lot to thank you for.”
“Not at all. Oh.” She smiled and gestured to her companion. “This is Saffron. My faerie.”
A faerie? Caia blinked, remembering the amazing stories Ryder had imparted. “Nice to meet you.”
She watched as Saffron wrinkled her nose. “She smells different from the rest of them.”
“Shut up,” Ryder snapped.
“Wh—”
Before Caia could finish her question, Magnus stepped forward. “We need to talk,” he said. His worried eyes made the hair on Caia’s skin rise. If she had been in wolf form, her ears would’ve twitched, her hair would’ve spiked, and she would’ve lowered to her haunches, awaiting the attack.
They knew!
They all knew what was wrong with her … and they’d hidden the truth from her.
Even the witch and the faerie knew.
She could feel everyone’s anxiety. Angry tears pricked the corners of her eyes. All this time, they had been keeping something from her. All the while she’d trusted them.
Accusation practically exploded from her very nerve endings and she took perverse delight in watching them squirm under her incensed gaze. “Is someone finally going to tell me why every time I have an emotional outburst, water pipes instantaneously rupture? Why I can throw someone across a room without even touching them? Why I started to change in front of a class of humans yesterday and could do nothing to stop it? Why I can actually feel your emotions right now?”
“Caia.” Lucien made a move toward her, his guilt and anguish clear to see.
“Don’t.” She retreated from him. He was the last person in the world she wanted touching her. She took satisfaction in the way he flinched, wounded by her rejection.
He sighed and looked at Magnus and then back to her. “You should know Magnus wanted to tell you from the start, but he was outvoted.”
Caia nodded. “Then you explain, Magnus. Please, just tell me what’s happening to me.” She crumpled into a chair, hating the burn of tears in her eyes. “I’m scared.”
Lucien inhaled sharply. His emotions hit her like a wave, and she gulped under their force. Despite whatever had happened between him and Alexa, he had feelings for Caia—enough to hurt when she was hurt.
She didn’t want to know that. She just wanted to be mad at him.
Magnus approached her and when he pulled her from the chair to embrace her, she let him. In fact her fingers curled into his shoulders as if he were a life raft.
“You don’t have to be scared, Cy. We’ll get you through this.”
“Get me through what?”
“For you to understand, we have to go back to the beginning.” He eased her away.
And then he told her a tale that threw her back into a past she’d never known existed, to a history that had been rewritten.
16
The Awful Truth
Nineteen years ago
“How could you, Mikhail?” Albus burst out in rage, his hands trembling with so much emotion, so much confusion.
His older brother shrugged, defeated and weary. “I don’t know.”
“You’re the Pack Leader. To have an affair … with the enemy?” Rafe added in disbelief. Albus was glad for his presence, which calmed his own fiery temperament.
Mikhail’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Why are you even here? This is between me and my brother.”
“Mikhail,” Albus warned, angry at the obvious blow Rafe took. He tried not to show it, but Rafe’s eyes darkened with sadness. It had taken Ella’s persuasion for them to see that Rafe was an excellent man, a young man who had suffered for the sins of his father. Albus knew he thought of himself and Mikhail as his own brothers. For Mikhail to hint otherwise was a verbal punch to the stomach that Albus wouldn’t stand for. “Don’t take your own foolishness out on Rafe.”
Mikhail exhaled, “Nothing will come of this. I promise. The affair is over with Atia.”
“You had an affair with the wife of the Head of the Midnight Coven! If Devlyn finds out, this will never be over!”