Destined (War of the Covens 2)

She pushed out with her magik and wound a shield around the two of them. Lucien frowned, glancing around at it, but she refused to meet his gaze, her own eyes staring adamantly ahead.

“For privacy,” she muttered in explanation. “We need to talk.”

“Yes, we do,” he agreed, exhaling. To her it almost sounded like he was nervous … but what did he have to be nervous about?

Rose.

Caia gripped the ache that name created and attempted to suffocate it from her body.

“Rose isn’t coming back with us.”

What?

“What?” She forgot she was trying not to look at him and directed the question into his eyes.

He shrugged uncomfortably, and she thought she saw pain flitter across his features. “I just spoke with her. Everything was explained. She’s not coming. We were never really together, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” she managed tightly. What? Did he expect sympathy for being dumped?

She flinched at his growl and returned to looking out the window.

“Caia,” he said, exasperated, “look at me.”

“What for?”

“You’re being a child.”

“I told you, I like the rain.”

He let go of his growl and stared stormily ahead. “I never wanted to be with Rose,” he revealed through a clenched jaw. “That kiss you saw was her, not me. I told her she couldn’t come back to the pack with us. Caia, I thought you were pulling away. I thought you didn’t want …” He sighed. “I’m not good at … the word thing. I just … I’m not with Rose.”

Caia tried so hard to stamp down the little butterflies of hope that fluttered in her stomach. She tried to seem uninterested, she really did. She failed. “Why?”

At first Caia didn’t think he was going to answer, but then she felt his gaze on her face as he spoke. “Do you remember that night you found me in the woods? The night we ran together alone?”

She nodded numbly, wishing she didn’t.

At the touch of his hand sliding around her waist, Caia jerked in surprise, tensed as he slid behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and pulling her body in close. His heat and strength, the feel of him, the scent of him, exploded over her in a riot of butterflies and shivers. She held her breath, wide-eyed, as he inhaled her, before tucking her head under his chin.

A moment of tense silence.

And then …

“That’s when I first knew.” His voice had gone hoarse. “Caia,” he said reverently, “I love you.”

Her pulse raced as a sharp ache shot across her chest.

Love me? He loves me?

A sense of unreality descended over her, and she felt light-headed. It couldn’t be true.

Lucien seemed to sense her disbelief, and he squeezed her even closer, his lips sending goose bumps down her spine as he pressed them against her ear. “Caia, I love you. Look at me.” He elicited an aggravated sound when she made no move, and then whipped her around to face him, gripping the top of her arms and glaring sternly into her face as he shook her. “Do you hear me? Say something.”

As she gazed, stunned, into his eyes, she saw his fear. It was etched in every one of his features and she could feel it in his painful grip. He loves me. Like a much-needed thaw, those words melted her defenses, and tears she couldn’t hold back slipped down her cheeks. Caia sank into him, her arms wrapping around his waist and gripping him to her. Lucien would never lie about this, she was sure. He loves me. He has always loved me. Pain receded.

“I love you too,” she whispered against his chest.

Lucien trembled beneath her touch and exhaled before bending his head, pressing his lips to hers, and tugging her feet from the floor so he could devour her more comfortably. Caia moaned happily into his mouth, relishing the taste of him, the burning heat he managed to evoke from her. It wasn’t a soft kiss. It was hard and deep and asked everything of her. His grip on her hair tightened and he pulled back from the kiss to nip at her swollen lips, his eyes narrowed slits, his face drawn and tight.

“I thought you’d never be mine,” he growled, and for once, Caia gloried at his possessiveness, excited by how out of control he seemed as his mouth found hers again. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, and she shivered uncontrollably. At that, Lucien finally seemed to calm, and he reluctantly stopped kissing her.

“Caia,” he trailed hot kisses across her face and neck, his arms still crushing, “never leave me.”

She grinned, ecstatic, feeling as if a war was finally over. “Never,” she promised, curling her fingers in his thick hair.

They held each other for what seemed forever, murmuring love and promises in one another’s ears, their relief palpable in the bubble they shared.