Ascended (War of the Covens 3)

At first, he still seemed anxious with her, and she guessed he was unsure of her feelings for him after kicking her out of the pack and the Rose debacle (she was now awaiting trial, sitting in prison as they spoke). She wasn’t going to lie—she’d been pissed off and hurt. But so had he.

So, Caia promised him there was nothing to forgive. Life was too damn short, and she wanted to live it with him. It had not escaped everyone’s notice they hadn’t left the bedroom since the ceremony, but they’d be surprised to know they’d spent much of it talking (well, mostly).

“I don’t know,” she replied, frowning. “I just know that even after tomorrow … this won’t be over for me.”

“Are you going to stay and fight?”

Her breath hitched. “Would it be okay if the answer to that question is I don’t know?”

Lucien huffed and squeezed her closer. “Of course.”

“Will you wait for me?”

Chuckling, he rolled her over so he was braced above her on the bed. “No. I won’t need to.” He laughed again at her scowl and smoothed it away with his fingers. “I won’t need to because I’ll be right there with you, fighting anybody you want me to.”

She raised her eyebrows, looping her hands around his neck and wriggling provocatively. “Looks like I’ve just been promoted to Alpha then, huh?”

Lucien made a face. “Well, the job is yours if you want it, but I should warn you that the contract is bull. I’ve received none of the promised perks.”

“Perks?”

“Oh, you know … a lifetime supply of beer and foot massages, a harem of women to bathe and clothe me, et cetera …”

She snorted and pulled back from him. “A harem?”

He grinned unrepentantly. “Did I mention my sense of humor is also greatly underappreciated?”

For Caia it was a relief to know Lucien and the pack were behind her as she waded through the murky waters of Daylight politics.

When she met up with the Council the night before the rite to go through the details, she fought to ignore the strain of the trace and decided to put forth the question that had been pressing heavily upon her.

“After this, what’s next?”

The Council was seated in Alfred Doukas’s suite, joined by Vanne and Marion. The frosty tension between those two had caused a little awkwardness at the beginning of the meeting, but everyone seemed determined to ignore them. Caia threw a quick glance to Vanne who was resolutely snubbing Marion. She remembered how grief-stricken he’d been when he thought she’d died. Obviously, he hadn’t forgiven her for not enlightening him about her plan to deceive Marita.

“Next?” Benedict sneered.

“When the trace is gone, what next? We’ll be free, but the war as it stands will still exist. How do we end this?”

“We don’t,” Benedict retorted sharply. “The details of the war will be left for the Council to deal with.”

“Now, Benedict—” Penelope began, but Caia wanted to speak for herself.

“You mean, you intend to use and then discard me?”

“No, Caia,” Penelope rushed. “That is not at all the intention of the Council.”

“I think Caia should be put forward for a place on the Council,” Vanne interrupted.

A place on the Council? Caia stared at him wide-eyed. She hadn’t meant that as such but … actually … it was an idea. If she were a member of the Council, she would have a say in how they went about ending the war. She could have an impact on the treatment of Midnights and Daylights alike.

The Council gazed at him open-mouthed for a moment, before Marion cleared her throat. “I agree with Vanne.”

He glared at her. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“Well, I do,” she snapped, muttering under her breath about idiots acting like children.

Benedict was outraged. “How dare you suggest such a thing? There are only nine places on the Council, and those have been filled.”

The young magik, Derren, cleared his throat and everyone turned to face him. He was an enigmatic man and only spoke when he had something of import to say. “I agree with Vanne and Marion. Caia is too valuable a member of the Daylights to throw back out to the wolves. She should be an integral cog in our machine, as she has already proven her worth tenfold.”

Shocked silence settled around the room. Finally, Alfred stood. “If it would be the will of the Council, I suggest we at least discuss the possibility of adding Caia to our noble ranks after the rite has been performed.”

“Hear, hear,” Penelope muttered, and a round of the same followed—from all except Benedict who was content to skewer Caia with his gaze.

The rite was not to be performed before the entire Center as the Acquisition of the Trace ceremony had been. It was a private ceremony between Caia and the gods, and so she was led to the deepest level of the Center where caverns had been sculpted into the building like damp, salt-smelling sea caves. The goddess Gaia, unlike Zeus who roamed the skies, preferred enclosed spaces, and so it was often thought appropriate to perform any rites to her within dwellings like a house or cave.