Ascended (War of the Covens 3)

As one they pulled small daggers from their robes and slit a shallow cut across their palms before holding it up to the heavens. Caia took that as her cue and gripped tight to the dagger Marion had given her, biting her lip as she scored it across her left palm, squeezing back the sting of tears as her flesh opened and the blood ran out. She held it up to the heavens and cleared her throat.

“Mother Gaia, Potnia Theron, my lady Hemera. I beseech you, praying you find me deserving of the great gift of the trace.”

A tingling eased the pain in her palm, and Caia gazed at it in amazement as it glowed with an ethereal light. Dazed, she glanced over to the Council and saw their palms also shimmered with the energy. She gasped as the tingling grew sharp, turning hard, as if a hand were gripping it tight. And then she was seized, watching helplessly as bolts of energy shot into her body, rushing through her veins as cold as ice crystallizing her very insides. The sensation of falling took over, and she blanched as her head struck something hard. The blurry view of the ceiling told her it had been the floor.

A soft buzzing started in her ears like little whispers. And then the whispers grew to voices, drowning out the buzzing.

And then voices grew into weapons.

Thousands of energies poured into her, piercing through her skin like a million fiery needles, the pain so excruciating Caia lost herself.

She was no longer Caia.

She was anguish, she was torment. She was suffering.

Vanne and Ryder held Lucien back while Reuben held on to Jaeden and Magnus. Lucien strained against his friend and the magik’s grip, sweating and spitting, desperate to get to Caia, who writhed and screamed in the middle of the floor like a madwoman.

“Get off me!” he snarled, pulling out of Vanne’s grip only to be halted by Ryder’s arm hooking around his neck and dragging him back.

“They told us it would be like this,” Ryder tried to reassure him, but Lucien could hear the concern in his friend’s voice. The Daylights all leaned forward in their seats, each wearing the same expression of horror and anxiety. Oh yes, they had been warned Caia might show signs of discomfort, not screaming her head off as if she were on fire! He growled again and attempted to get out of his restraints.

Caia, he thought imploringly, I’m with you. I’m with you.

To his astonishment, her screams died to groans and she didn’t writhe as frantically. His jaw dropped and he wondered if she’d heard him through the trace. No, surely not. But as her screams grew again, he lurched forward.

Caia! Don’t! I’m here, you’re okay. You’re going to be all right, just hold on.

Her screaming dimmed.

I can’t get to you physically because these assholes are holding me back, but I’m here. Just take a minute, breathe. Breathe, Caia …

As Lucien’s voice fought through all the others, Caia grabbed tight to it and let its soothing comfort ease the pain. She felt her body relax as he crooned to her, and the burning ice thawed a little. Her head still pounded with all the energies, Daylight and Midnight alike, but concentrating only on Lucien dulled it, sending it to the back of her skull rather than it being an all-encompassing pain.

“Lucien,” she whispered and grew still.

After a few minutes, a face appeared above her. Alfred Doukas.

“Caia?” he queried, his eyes bright with concern. “Are you all right?”

His energy tingled in her veins, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt his concern was genuine. He was a good man, Alfred Doukas.

“I’m fine,” she croaked and tried to push to a sitting position.

“Caia!” She turned to see Lucien bounding down the stairs and onto the platform. He dropped to his knees beside her, his eyes wide and bewildered.

She smiled wearily at him. “Thank you.”

His silver gaze turned to smoke. “It worked? You heard?”

Her eyelids drooped. “I heard.”

“I think you better get her to her bed, Lucien, before she falls asleep in the court.”

“Is it done, then?” Lucien asked.

“It’s done.”

28

It’s Between You and Your Gods

Getting rid of the trace for Caia was just the beginning. No one, not Reuben, Saffron, Marion, nor the Council, had approached her with explanation or understanding of what would come next once the gods had freed them all from the binding power of the trace. But as the days turned over and she fought off the painful effects of having double the trace, it niggled at Caia, taunting her and illuminating the fact she would never truly be at peace until the war as it stood was over.

“But what can you do?” Lucien asked softly as they lay together on the third morning after the ceremony. Since that night, she hadn’t left his side, now fully comprehending what it meant for him to be her mate—he was the only one who could quite literally ease the pain.