Ascended (War of the Covens 3)

Mal shook his head. “Dad was already gone. They tore him apart.”

Lucien felt him shudder and then Mal turned slightly, bending over to vomit all over the kitchen floor. “I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he choked out, but Lucien shushed him, patting him gently on the back until he was done.

After a few minutes of unbearable silence, Lucien asked hoarsely, “Where are Dimitri and Yvana?”

The young wolf’s head dropped as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Out front, to the side. You must’ve passed them when you came in. They were outside when Marita arrived. They’re … they’re pretty messed up.”

Lucien ushered him out of the kitchen and guided him back outside, taking care to shield him from the view of his father’s body. He vaguely took in Lucia off to the side with Irini and Cera, who was holding her three kids as close as possible. With them stood Reuben, Saffron, and Rose, and altogether they hid the kids from the gruesome sight to Lucien’s right.

He walked slowly toward the pack. Christian had his arms around Julia as she sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder. Jaeden knelt on the ground, the knee of her jeans soaking up the blood of her father. Dimitri lay in front of her, his body mutilated, his face and lips blue. Just behind them was Yvana, her prone body in much the same condition as Dimitri’s. Aidan and Ryder knelt beside her, quiet tears rolling down their cheeks.

And his own mother (Lucien thanked the gods she was all right) stood with her arm around Caia, the two of them between their dead pack members and their grieving families. Magnus hovered over Dimitri, his friend, his brother, his own silent tears coursing down his ruddy cheeks.

When Caia was taken from Lucien, he’d felt rage unlike anything he had ever known. At the massacre left in his home, the massacre of his people, his pack—the lykans he was supposed to protect—by that evil bitch … it brought the rage back full force.

14

Emotional Blackmail and … Just Plain Ol’ Blackmail

There was no noise. It was as if the world had shushed … or had she gone deaf? There were no smells. She could see the rain as it pelted the ground and plastered their clothes to their bodies; she could see the mud as it squelched underfoot; she could see the leaves rustle against one another as the wind rushed through Lucien’s land in furious sympathy for their loss. But she couldn’t smell the earth or hear the tears. She felt numb. Paralyzed. Sure that one gentle nudge would knock her over. It wasn’t possible to feel this much pain, this much loss. And the anger, the rage, simmered beneath the surface like oil ready for the first strike of the match.

Six of the pack were gone. For the others who had survived, it had been a matter of chance. Julia had persuaded Imogen and Isaac to come back to her house to get some much-needed sleep. Ella was out shopping and checking on Lucien’s store; Cera had gone with her. As for Draven and Kade, they’d taken the twins home as well, leaving Lucien’s house under the protection of Dimitri, Yvana, Mal, Finlay, and their parents. Dana and Daniel would never have been there if they hadn’t snuck out and back over to Lucien’s, excited and desperate to welcome everyone back from the Center.

It should never have happened. She should’ve known Marita would target the pack. And now they were cremating innocent lykans in the woods behind the house. One of the magiks that had been sent by Alfred to protect them—Jason—was taking care of the mess their deaths had made in the human world. Memories and school files were being tampered with, Lucien’s store, Yvana’s café, all of their jobs were being erased as if they’d never been there. The house was emptied, all evidence of their existence wiped. Jason tampered with the memory of a realtor. For now, the house was part of some guy’s inheritance. “He lived in Cincinnati and wanted the house put up for sale.” The money from the sale would make its way back into the pack’s accounts, but their lives here were over.

And Caia had sold her soul to the devil himself to keep them safe.

Twenty-four hours earlier

“Ryder’s looking for you,” Caia said softly as she made her way into her old bedroom. Jae lay curled up on her old comforter, a teddy bear Ella had given her when she’d first arrived squished tightly in her friend’s hands. Her face was taut with grief, her usually lively blue eyes deadened as they turned upon Caia.

“I don’t want to speak to him.”

Caia nodded. It had only been thirty-six hours since they’d arrived back to the house to find their whole world ripped apart. Everyone was in unimaginable pain. Caia felt like she was sleepwalking. The sense of unreality was tormenting. And the guilt …