“I can’t believe … Adriana …,” he moaned, and held the baby girl closer.
“She … her family is not finished with us, Rafe. We must leave.”
Rafe nodded but made no move.
“We have to leave now, friend,” Albus demanded and pulled him to his feet. The rest of the pack was already traveling to a new location, and Marion, who’d revealed Adriana to them when she visited with Magnus, was protecting them from attack during their journey.
Rafe followed him outside to the car. Ella waited anxiously with Lucien and Irini who, although young, were fully aware something was wrong.
“Albus.” Rafe stopped him before they reached the car.
“What?”
“You’ll protect her, if something happens to me?” he pleaded, his eyes falling lovingly on his daughter. “You’ll protect my Caia.”
Albus nodded vehemently. “I already have a suggestion but it can wait for now.”
17
Alone
“Three years after your mother’s escape, she returned,” Magnus continued her tragic story. “The pack’s guard was down, and she tried to get to you. Your father got to you in time, but Adriana … she killed him,” he whispered, his grief palpable. “Adriana got away, and again she waited. It was another four years. She returned for you, but Albus was ready and he sent you and Irini into hiding under Marion and Daylight protection. Albus, as you know, went after your mother, and she killed him. That’s when Lucien went after her.”
Caia’s gaze flew to the Pack Leader.
Lucien stared back at her, his jaw clenched, his fists tight at his sides. “It took me five years, Caia,” he croaked, “but I finally got the opportunity, and I killed her. To protect you, to protect the pack.”
She felt her head moving back and forth as if trying to shake their words—the truth—right out of her ears. All the secrecy, the vague comments, the weird crap she’d been going through, all of it lies covering up the awful truth.
“So, I’m … a magik?” Her voice sounded dead to her. “Am I a witch?”
Ella leaned forward. She could smell her, could see her hand reaching to clasp her own, but she couldn’t feel her touch. “Yes. According to Irini, you’ve been showing signs for almost a year— since your eighteenth birthday. That’s why Marion is here.”
“By the sounds of it,” Marion added, “you’re a water witch.”
She pulled out of Ella’s grasp to hug herself, to keep herself from falling apart. A water witch?
She felt like laughing hysterically. What does that even mean?
The table in the center of the room began to shake, and she felt everyone watching, holding their breaths.
“My mother killed my father. Tried to kill me?”
“Yes,” Lucien answered her. His strong hand reached for her, and she could hear him telling her to stay calm, but the words were useless.
“And you killed my mother?” The table rattled uncontrollably now.
“She has a lot of raw power,” Marion murmured in surprise. Caia could hear her coaxing her to stay calm.
A witch. A lykan. Not one thing or the other.
The product of wicked vengeance and betrayal.
A wave of nausea swept through her entire body, and with her lykan reflexes, she ran from the room and onto the porch where she leaned over the railing to vomit the horrific truth into the bushes below. Even when there was nothing left inside her, she dry heaved as if there was something in there refusing to dislodge itself from her being. When she came up for air, she realized someone was holding her hair back. Lucien.
She felt his warmth at her back. Too exhausted to be angry at him, she couldn’t help but lean into his comforting heat.
His lips whispered across her hair, and then he wrapped an arm around her waist and her pulled tightly against him. He hushed her, and she suddenly realized she was crying. “It’s going to be Okay,” he promised.
Caia shook her head. “How?”
“I’m sorry.” She could hear the sorrow in his words. “I’m sorry I killed her, but I had to.”
Angry now, Caia pulled from his arms and faced him, batting furiously at her tears. “I’m not,” she cried, the sound of the wolf distorting her voice like she’d never heard before. “I’m not sorry you killed her! She was a monster, Lucien!”
Marion suddenly appeared on the porch between them, hands held out to Caia, beseeching. “Caia, you have to calm down. Your power is based in your emotions. You must calm down.”
“My parents … in my head. They were the one thing—” She couldn’t finish, the grief … it hurt all over. Splinters of wood started ripping up off the porch, one slicing her cheek. “And you didn’t tell me!”
“Caia.” Lucien tried to reach for her, but the world suddenly got very loud. A monstrous, soul-wrenching howl filled her ears. A wooden floorboard jerked up from the porch.
“Caia, you have to pull it together!” Marion was shouting; The woman stepped toward her, still speaking but Caia couldn’t make out the words now. There was nothing but a cacophony of chaos.