Hunted (War of the Covens 1)

“I’m angry now,” the daemon said serenely.

“Gee, I couldn’t tell.”

She really couldn’t.

So what was she going to do?

Her best bet would be to turn lykan and run.

The thought hadn’t even left her head when the daemon pulled out of nowhere a long, thin, metal chain with spikes. The daemon lassoed it above its head, and then to her horror whipped it out at her. All she was aware of was the lashing, breath-stealing pain that lanced across her stomach as the spikes ripped her open. And then she was on her back, gazing at the sky.

When the pain hit, she couldn’t help but scream, clutching her stomach as warm, thick fluid coated her hands.

Terrified, Caia craned her neck and sobbed at the bloody mess that was her belly.

“Don’t worry,” the daemon’s voice carried from a distance, but she couldn’t see it. “It will be over soon.”

No, she shook, her head falling back to the ground. She couldn’t die. She had to get to Jaeden. She couldn’t die.

Biting back more screams, Caia managed to turn onto her side and then onto her knees, saliva dripping from her mouth with the effort.

“You’ve got heart, little wolf.”

I’m going to rip out your throat.

She had no idea how she managed the next feat. All she knew was that she needed to change in order to heal, and in order take this dick out. Maybe it was her magik, but the change rippled through her in a second, no crunching, no tingling, no wincing pain—just one minute human, the next a wolf. The intense, ferocious pain of her belly wound was enough to make her want to pass out, but she forced herself onto all fours. She took a few steps, ignoring the blood dripping onto the ground below as the wound tried to heal itself with her transformation.

She looked up with her sharp lykan eyes, pulled back her muzzle, and snarled ferociously at the daemon as it stood amazed.

It was all she needed.

Ignoring her wound, Caia ran and pounced, pushing her wolf until she hit the daemon, her claws piercing its burnt flesh. The daemon didn’t even have time to throw her off before she widened her jaws and sank her teeth into its jugular, tearing its neck open and dousing her mouth and fur in blood. She gagged at the amount that flowed down her throat and then salivated as the daemon struggled. It had a hold of her body and punched at her wound, causing her to whine in pain. Its actions only angered her more.

She ripped and tore at its neck until eventually its whole head rolled off and fell with a thud. She collapsed with its decapitated body and backed away, her belly weeping in agony.

Lucien. She had to get to Lucien.

Lucien didn’t know what he’d been thinking when he asked Marion to come to his store to discuss what she’d offered to Caia. The magik was like a brick wall, and she wasn’t moving.

“I’ve told you I can’t take back my offer because it isn’t my offer to take back.”

He tried not to growl and instead opted for intimidating pacing. “Marion, I thought you were a friend to this pack.”

“I am.”

“How can you possibly think about taking an Alpha’s mate from him?”

Marion heaved a huge sigh and slid onto one of the workshop stools. “I told Marita all of this, but I have to do what she asked, Lucien. And … Caia has the right to make her own decisions.”

He knew that. He did. Really. He just hadn’t thought that she would contemplate leaving him, leaving the pack, once she knew how tightly bound they were. Mates did not leave each other, for Gaia’s sake.

But she was leaving him.

Or seriously thinking about it.

Lucien shook his head. He couldn’t believe it. Rage flowed through him as thick as the blood it rode, and he clung to it desperately. It was better than allowing himself to analyze just how hurt he was—and you could only be hurt by someone you cared about.

Right now, the last thing on earth he wanted was to care about her.

“I know you care about her, Lucien,” Marion said softly. He snarled, irritated that she could read him so easily. He forgot that magiks did that. Sensed emotions.

“She’s my mate,” he answered coldly.

“She’s more to you than just a responsibility. I’m not blind.”

He flushed, wanting to hit something, and instead turned his back on the witch, trying to control his breathing and his anger. The last thing he needed was to insult the sister of the Head of the Daylight Coven. Although insulting the Head of the Coven sounded like a good idea right now. Interfering wench.

“You should tell her you have feelings for her. Maybe that’s all she wants.”

Lucien shuddered and looked back to her. “I don’t want to discuss this with you. I just want you to tell your sister where to stick her invitations.”