Ascended (War of the Covens 3)

While Caia was being treated, Lucien questioned Vanne on what the hell was going on. He now knew all about Reuben—the slick bastard—and how Vanne and Saffron had been working for the vampyre all these years. Vanne had been placed as Marita’s husband. He had done his duty. He hadn’t loved Marita, but he’d respected and admired her. Then the years passed and he’d grown to dislike the secretive, pretentious, callous shrew she was turning into. After discovering what she’d been planning with the labs, and especially now that Marion was dead, Lucien could see hatred for the Head of the Coven blazing in Vanne’s eyes.

The warlock had gone on to tell Lucien about persuading Alistair MacLachlan of the truth, how they’d had to wait thirty minutes before they believed it was really Vanne in their home telling them that Marita was experimenting upon lykan and vampyre children, and that she had imprisoned the Council. After that, it had been pretty easy to persuade them to rescue the Council and the kids. According to Caia, Vanne said the Council members’ families didn’t need persuading. They were waiting for them at the gymnasium when they arrived.

Lucien shook his head. This time last year, he’d thought his biggest worry was what Caia and Irini’s return was going to do to his pack. With Caia being part Midnight, he hadn’t known whether she would be dangerous to them all. A troublemaker? And then there was the thought of being tied to someone you didn’t know for the rest of your life. Never in a million years would he have suspected that Caia’s arrival would turn his entire world upside down, the Daylight and Midnight Covens now sharing the same purpose: to see the Head of the Daylight Coven destroyed. He sighed again. Crap, all he ever did these days was cock his head and sigh wearily.

He brushed Caia’s hair back her face and thanked the gods she was still here. Every day his gut twisted with panic that today might be the last day he ever saw her again.

“Stupid son of a bitch,” he whispered. Why couldn’t he have fallen in love with someone simple and uncomplicated? Someone like Rose—Rose who had joined his pack in the fight without question when she saw Phoebe fighting off a vampyre from the Center.

But it wasn’t Rose who ran through his veins as if she were part of his blood.

“Why are you a stupid son of a bitch?” Caia mumbled. He smiled as her eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, you,” he whispered back and leaned over to press a soft kiss on her lips. She smelled like Caia, damp earth of the wolf and the vanilla scent of a magik.

“My shoulder feels better.” She twisted to have a look at it. She wore a nightdress, as the clothes she’d been wearing were so drenched in blood, one of the witches had insisted on incinerating them with her fire magik. Her shoulder was in one piece again, although the scar was still healing. “Hmm, nice … dress.”

She wrinkled her nose, and Lucien chuckled. Getting Caia into anything remotely feminine was like asking the moon to be the sun. In fact, this was probably only the third time he’d seen her in something that wasn’t jeans or shorts.

“I like it,” he purred, tugging at one of the straps.

She laughed and reached up for him, her lithe arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to her. He went more than willingly, cuddling her into him and breathing deeply of her, reassuring him she was okay.

“I was so worried about you,” she whispered in his ear, and he felt himself laughing. “What?” she asked, pulling back, a cute frown wrinkling the bridge of her nose.

“You were worried about me?” He shook her gently. “Of the two of us, who disappeared from whom? And who had her shoulder ripped open? Oh, and I heard about Marita’s attack.” His voice rose as he continued on. “Apparently you were set on fire and drowned from the inside out?” He knew his tone would annoy her and wasn’t surprised when she wriggled out of his hold and eased herself into a sitting position. She was so easy to read. She hated being vulnerable to anyone, and it bothered her that she was with him.

“Lucien, do I have to remind you that this is a war? I’m going to get hurt now and then.”

He shrugged and turned away. “I’m just saying it would be nice for once to be waking up in bed next to you for a reason other than you having just come under attack.”

“We have … you know …” She blushed, and he struggled not to smile. “You know … there have been times—” She stopped, watching his expression, her eyes narrowing as realization dawned on her. “You enjoy tormenting me, don’t you?”