Destined (War of the Covens 2)

His brows creased in confusion, as did Caia’s. What on earth was their Second Unit?

“Lykans.” Vanne grinned.

“Yes, quite. Our Second Unit are our infantry of lykans. I’ll have a representative sent around to your room tomorrow morning.”

Lucien nodded politely.

“One more thing before you retire for the evening, Caia.”

It was said pleasantly, yet an unexpected chill shot through her.

“Yes?”

Marita’s frozen smile melted into a grimace. “You should be aware that despite my sister’s championing of you, and her utmost belief in your sincerity and trustworthiness, not all of Daylight is inclined to believe her.”

“What does that mean?” Lucien’s tone had bite.

She cast him a withering look. “It means, Mr. Líder, that some of my people are uneasy around someone of Midnight blood.”

“Daylight blood as well,” he reminded her through clenched teeth.

Caia felt those nervous butterflies returning as Marita shrugged. “Perhaps if she had come to the Center as a permanent resident, everyone would have been able to look past the fact that her mother was a treacherous Midnight whore who killed many Daylights, including your father and her own.”

“Marita …” Marion stood, her expression pained.

Her sister merely raised her hand, the polite mask falling back into place upon her marble face. “I don’t mean to be cruel.” Her eyes turned to Caia whose own were bleak with uncertainty. She felt Lucien’s tension beside her and was reminded once again of all the differences that stood between them, of how much he had been there for her despite that.

“If I can get past it, so can they.” Lucien’s voice rumbled around the room. He moved closer to Caia, his arm brushing against hers. The butterflies abated, and she turned to look at him in gratitude.

“One can only hope they will.” Marita drew her attention back to her. “However, I would encourage you, Caia, to think about staying longer than this business with the MacLachlans. It would go a long way in securing you the right allies.”

She plastered on an equally polite smile. “I thank you for the advice, Marita, but I hope my very temporary visit to the Center will be enough to show the people here whose side I’m on. I’d have hoped killing my own uncle would have incurred some kind of faith, but ultimately rescuing a pack of strangers will just have to do the trick.”

Lucien didn’t disguise his amusement, and neither did Vanne. Marion was the only one who tried to hold on to a straight face as Marita narrowed her eyes first at her husband and then Caia.

“You might do well here after all.”

Caia raised an eyebrow in surprise at the grudging respect she found in the magik’s eyes.

“We’ll see, though.”

“These people who might take issue with me being here, does that include the Council?” Caia asked.

Marita smiled. “The Council does not reside here on a permanent basis. They only convene on their schedule, or for emergencies.”

It wasn’t exactly an answer. Marion had taught her a lot over the last few months, including some pretty in-depth history lessons. Like the Midnights, the Daylights had an appointed council, which included members of the more influential families within the coven. Their existence was a precaution—an acting body of control that disavowed the idea of an autocracy, even though Marita had complete autonomy as long as her methods were morally correct, as well as providing the coven with adequate protection and defense.

Caia had learned from Marion that three hundred years ago, Marion and Marita’s great-grandmother had taken a stand against the Head, a tyrannical warlock whom she discovered was plotting to overthrow the Council and take complete power for himself. She went to the Council with this information—a difficult task, considering she’d had to hide her intentions from him in her trace—and asked to be put forward as a candidate for Head of the Coven.

Usually, this would’ve led to a political campaign wherein the Daylights would be allowed to vote for whomever they wanted to lead. The loser was killed so they could ask Gaia to imbue the winner with trace power. In Marion’s great-grandmother’s case, the Council had been so horrified by her discoveries, they’d had the Head killed immediately, and placed her in power. Their family had been ruling ever since.

So far, the Council was very happy with Marita.

“But do they take issue with Caia?” Lucien persisted.

Reluctantly, Marita shook her head. “They are impressed by your service to the coven and interested to see what you are capable of in the future.”

Satisfaction washed through Caia, and she shared a relieved look with Lucien.

Marita harrumphed again, and with that, they were ushered out of the room behind an impassive Noble. They followed him back to the elevator, which then led them down to floor five where they were deposited on another elevator that took them back up to floor twenty-three.