No. She was confused. The last thing she remembered was killing five people. Had that been a nightmare?
“Where am I?”
Lucien loomed closer, drawing her hand into an almost viselike grip. “You’re in your room at the Center.”
“Was it a dream?”
Sadness and fury seemed to riot across his face as he shook his head. “No.”
Caia clenched her jaw, turning her head away, desperate to keep the tears locked up. A single one escaped anyway, spilling from the corner of her eye and down her cheek.
“Caia,” he whispered, and she felt him catch the tear with his finger. “You did good, sweetheart.”
She choked on that. Good! She had killed people, murdered them! It wasn’t like Ethan’s death. That hadn’t been premeditated, and he had been a monster who deserved to die. But other than du Bois and Thierry, those Midnights were mixed-up people, looking for direction, looking for a leader again. They weren’t truly wicked. And their deaths had been premeditated.
Goddess, she felt like such a naive fool believing she could kill those people and be fine with it … because it was the right thing to do. Hah.
“Caia,” Marion said firmly, almost angrily, “I know it isn’t easy, but those magiks were going to massacre an entire pack of innocent lykans.”
Aye, there’s the rub.
Slowly, she turned to face them again. “I know. I just … I hadn’t expected …”
Marion placed a comforting hand on her leg. “Taking a life is never easy. But this is a war, Caia, and we have to sacrifice a part of our souls to win it.”
Lucien smiled gently at her. “I’ve been worried about you. You’ve been out for a whole day.”
“A whole day?”
He grinned. “You’re going to be fine. Marita’s personal physician looked you over. Your body was just exhausted after what you did. Caia, what you did!” He shook his head in amazement, and she watched as he and Marion exchanged awed and excited looks. “It was unbelievable. Taking out all those Midnights in one fell swoop? You should see this place outside of these doors.”
“Or inside,” Marion muttered wryly.
“What?” Caia asked in confusion.
“Take a look.”
Slowly, with Lucien’s help, she eased into a sitting position, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. Flowers upon flowers decorated every inch of the room.
“Get-well flowers from your fans.” Marion shook her head and laughed.
Uh-oh.
“Fans?”
Lucien grunted. “Some of the others couldn’t keep quiet about what you did. The Center is in an uproar over you. You’re like a damn rock star to these people.”
She gulped. This was kind of what she wanted—no, needed. Still scary, though.
They both seemed to understand and threw her sympathetic looks. Marion shrugged. “We knew your power could be limitless and turns out it just might be. This”—she gestured to the flowers—“might be the price you’re going to have to pay for it.”
Caia chuckled humorlessly. “And here I was thinking it was the bone-weary exhaustion, loss of consciousness, and oh, let’s not forget the bit about losing a piece of my soul.”
The witch frowned. “Caia, this is important. Two members have come to the Center representing the entire council. They want to meet with you.”
The news hit her in a wave. This was good. No, this—this was great. With a little self-control, she managed to keep the relieved grin off her face.
She nodded calmly. “I’d like that. When?”
“Today, if you are well enough.”
“Sounds good.”
Lucien scowled. “I don’t know about that. You’ve just woken up.”
A wave of sadness washed over her. “I’m fine. Unlike Mordecai and Anders.” She looked to them questioningly as they acknowledged the loss. “When will their funerals be held?”
Marion shook her head. “There won’t be a funeral for either of them. We hold a ceremony here at the Center annually to commemorate the dead. We’ll honor the two of them then.”
“Unit Two?” she whispered, thinking of Anders’s loyal men and women.
“Grieving, of course. But they’re soldiers first and foremost. Lyla has been promoted to Unit Leader.”
“And you? Marion, you took a few hits.”
She shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s Michael and Rose who were wounded.”
Rose.
She blinked up at Lucien’s pinched face. “Is she okay?”
He nodded. “She’s healing up pretty good. So is Michael.”
She thought of the Council, of her plans. How he didn’t know about any of it.
“You should go to her,” Caia told him, her voice flat and emotionless.
She knew right away that her tone had sent him into lockdown. He jerked away from her, his face frozen, his eyes hard. “Yeah. Glad you’re alright.”
And then he was gone.
She stared at her suite door, wishing she didn’t have any pride, that she could yell out after him and tell him she didn’t care if he loved Rose. He was her mate, so he had to stay with her.
Marion clucked, “He sat by your bedside for the last few hours, you know.”