Destined (War of the Covens 2)

Someone shoot me. Just put a gun to my head and pull the trigger. It would be more humane.

He squeezed his eyes closed as the words tumbled spitefully out of Rose’s mouth. How could he have forgotten the word bitch was invented by competitive female lykans?

The deafening silence became too much, and he finally worked up the courage to look at Caia.

He wished he hadn’t.

A look likened to anguish and regret glittered in her eyes, but her face seemed pinched with resentment at the same time. Classic Caia. She never failed to surprise him. She fixed that gaze intently upon him and said, “I always seem to be apologizing to you these days.” She shrugged so wearily, he wanted to pull her into his arms. “I am so sorry.”

“What … Caia?” He frowned, gently knocking Rose’s hand from his arm as he approached her. Worry, panic almost, washed over him as she retreated from him.

“I’m sorry … for a lot of things. But mostly, I’m sorry you got caught up in this, more than you ever should’ve been. My father and yours … what they did was unforgivable—”

“What they did was for the best … to protect you.”

“What they did was take away your choices.”

“And yours.”

She shook her head, her eyes flickering bitterly to Rose and then back to him. “I haven’t lost what you have. I’m sorry you can’t be with the person you want.”

“Caia—”

“Well.” Rose swaggered forward, cutting him off. “We can’t have kids together, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be together. You can still do the right thing here, Caia.”

Irritation ripped through Lucien as he watched Caia grow paler by the second. “Rose,” he warned, a growl rumbling from the base of his chest. She stared at him, all wide-eyed innocence.

“I’m going to go,” Caia replied softly and started for the door.

That was enough.

Lucien took three long strides toward her, grabbing her by the arm and turning her around. Still she refused to meet his eyes until he gave her a little shake.

“I have a meeting with Mordecai. Let go.”

“Lucien?” Rose asked uncertainly from behind him. He tried to ignore her, concentrating on getting Caia to acknowledge that she was pissed at him and there was a reason. She was jealous. Because she was his mate. Not Rose.

“Caia, you’re being an idiot.”

She flushed red, and he realized he’d said the wrong thing. With a strength belying her size, she ripped herself from his grip, her green eyes blazing with renewed energy. “Yeah, I guess I was. But I’m all good now.”

“You’ve obviously gotten the wrong—”

She laughed humorlessly, cutting him off. “You know what, Lucien? I think you’re forgetting that I’m in the middle of a war here. I’m a very important person, don’t you know. I don’t have time to deal with your guilt issues over moving on from our little mating. I moved on months ago, and now you have. Nothing to feel bad about.” She tilted her head to smile at Rose. “I’m happy for you both.”

And with that, she was gone.

She thought he loved Rose? She had moved on? She thought he had moved on? How could she think that after everything …?

The pack means everything to me, and I won’t have anything to do with someone who puts it last. I don’t want a mate like you. Not ever.

He’d said those awful words to her in the motel room before they rescued Jaeden. Could she really have believed he’d meant them?

Yes.

Shit.

Marita—1, Lucien—0.

She couldn’t breathe. The pain was that bad. She couldn’t cry. The heat of her anger had dried her tears.

Lucien loved Rose.

A brittle disquiet had captured her body as she perched on the side of her bed. She could feel herself shutting down, her walls shooting up, locking her soul in and the world out. A deep retreat was in progress and she shivered, feeling the icy blockade settle around her.

In that moment, she loathed her magik blood. A lykan would be tearing the room to shreds, expelling their ire from their body like sucking poison from a snake bite. Half-heartedly, she turned to the lamp that sat on her bedside table and lifted it slowly with her magik. With a flick of her eyes, she sent it speeding into the fireplace and took a momentary satisfaction in the way its destruction caused the flames to flare up and out, displaying their anger in the way she wanted to.

But there would be no white heat from this pain, no involuntary destruction of property. This was a kind of suffering she wanted to hide from.

With a shuddering breath, the tears began to fall.

So it had happened. She had fallen in love with Lucien. Maybe she’d always been in love with him. How could she love him when he didn’t love her back? How could he stand to be around her when she was the reason he couldn’t have children with the beautiful redhead?