Hunted (War of the Covens Book 1)

by S. Young

“We have to go.” Ryder marched by them, holding Jae as if she weighed nothing. “Sebastian’s badly hurt.”

  And like that, her joy died.

  Despite his pain, Lucien helped her to her feet and through the house to the back door. Ryder waited at the edge of the woods with Jaeden and only marched forward when he was assured they were behind him.

  “Wait, where’s Seb and Aidan and Christian?” She stumbled, clutching onto Lucien.

  “At the truck. I told them to go on while I made sure you guys were okay.”

  It seemed to take forever to get there. Lucien changed to heal himself quicker and shot off ahead, following the scent of the others back to his truck.

  Caia couldn’t speak. Ryder didn’t speak. But every time Jae whimpered, Caia would stroke her hair.

  “We’re nearly there,” Ryder grunted.

  Caia nodded. If she could have run, she would have. To get to Sebastian.

  “What happened?” she managed eventually, hoping to Artemis Sebastian wasn’t as badly hurt as Ryder had made it sound.

  “The daemon was tougher. Fought back even with all four of us on him. He sliced Sebastian open pretty good. Too much damage for him to change so he could heal.”

  Caia tried to slow her escalating heart rate. “But he’ll be okay?”

  His silence was heartbreaking.

  Caia began to run, stumbling and cursing at her stupid muscles that had decided to give up on her just when she needed them.

  Finally, she burst out of the woods and slammed against the truck.

  They all turned at her whine when her eyes landed on Sebastian. Without thinking, she jumped into the truck bed.

  “Caia—” Aidan tried to hold her back, but she pushed at him.

  “Let her,” Sebastian hissed.

  His stomach was packed with as much cloth as they could find around the truck, but already, it was soaked in his blood. Ryder was right. His wound was far more severe than Caia’s had been—it wasn’t just a slash across his stomach. His gut had been ripped open.

  Sebastian coughed, drawing her attention back to his face. “Come on,” he cracked, wheezing and shivering. “Can’t be that bad.”

  “Everyone into the truck,” Lucien demanded, back in human form. Ryder slid Jaeden into the cab and pulled her onto his lap so Aidan could sit up front with them. Christian sat beside Sebastian in the truck bed. “We’ve got to get to Marion. She’ll help.” Lucien nodded at Sebastian and then climbed in behind the wheel.

  Caia grabbed on to that hope and slid down beside Sebastian, shifting him as gently as possible so that his head was cushioned on her lap. The truck pulled away, Lucien driving as fast as he was able.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and a warm tear trickled off her face and onto his.

  Sebastian looked at her, still shuddering in her arms. “Don’t.” He coughed. “Don’t you do that.”

  “Sebastian,” she moaned.

  He smiled and winced at the effort it took, but his tawny eyes never left hers. “I wanted to do this. And you got Jae, right? We got Jae.”

  “We got Jae.”

  “She’s all right?”

  “Sebastian …” It was Jaeden’s voice, and her slender, bruised arm slid through the partition from the cab to grasp a hold of Sebastian’s sleeve. He rolled his eyes enough to see the top of Jaeden’s head.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he croaked.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and Caia couldn’t look at her rescued friend for fear of falling apart at the sound of her grief.

  No. He is going to be okay. He is going to be okay. Marion will fix this.

  “No”—he shuddered hard—“no problem, mi amiga.”

  See, he’s joking and teasing. He’s going to be okay.

  She clutched him tighter.

  “Cy,” he whispered, and her eyes got caught in his again. “I love you, Cy.”

  “Don’t,” she choked on her tears. “You’re going to be okay.”

  He smirked. “I love you anyway.”

  “I love you too,” she whispered.

  “That’s good.”

  A deep silence settled upon the truck, and Caia began to shake with exhaustion and fear.

  “Like a friend, Cy?” Sebastian whispered suddenly, and then winced.

  “What?”

  “You love me like a friend?”

  She nodded, unable to lie to him, even now. But his eyes never dimmed. “That’s enough for me.”

  30

  Gone

  Sebastian died in Caia’s arms ten minutes later. The grief thickened the air as they drove back to the pack, Lucien staring blankly ahead at the road while Ryder soothed a crying Jaeden, who was mourning more the loss of her friend than her innocence. Caia hummed softly, stroking Sebastian’s hair, her throat thick and burning with unshed tears.

  She had failed him. He loved her, and she had failed him.

  But she wouldn’t fail the rest of the pack.

  31

  The Decision

  “They’re all gone.”

  Marion walked slowly into Caia’s room and stopped, grasping a post of the bed. Caia tucked the picture of her father beneath her bedcovers so Marion wouldn’t realize the full extent of her depression.

  Marion’s eyes were gentle with understanding, and Caia wanted to look away from that sympathy.

  It had been a week since Sebastian’s death.

  With the elation of having Jaeden home came the crashing disbelief that Seb was gone. What was worse was that no one blamed her.

  She was the hero who’d led them to Jaeden in the first place, who’d taken down the purported Head of the Midnight Coven.

  No one blamed her, but … it seemed like it was more out of fear of her than anything.

  Lucien’s home had been filled with pack members since their return, and a suffocating mix of awe and grief had wrapped around the house like a cloak. Having cried herself to sleep the night they got back, and then cried herself boneless the next day, Caia was numb. She’d woken up every morning since afraid to open her eyes, determined that if she lay there long enough with them closed tightly, it would all go away. It would all be a bad dream, and Sebastian would knock on her door any second.

  But it wasn’t a bad dream.

  And she would never see his smile again.

  Somehow, she had managed to go to Sebastian’s funeral, but she hadn’t been able to meet Isaac’s or Imogen’s gaze … or anyone else’s, for that matter. The only person she’d even looked at was Jae, and that was only to make sure she was alright. Her friend was a shadow of her former herself. Caia had never understood that expression, until now. Jae stood apart from everyone, following her family a few paces behind, despite their determination to keep her close. But she was haunted by what had happened to her, and by the looks of it, that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

  And now everyone had gone home. Was it wrong she was relieved?

  “I heard,” she managed.

  Marion came around the bed to sit beside her, both of them looking out the window.

  “Happy birthday.”

  Caia blinked. It wasn’t a cause for celebration. So what? She was a year older and one friend down. She hated to think what the next months would bring.

  Marion understood her silence and changed the subject. “Marita and Vanne have been informed. Their spies tell them that the Midnight Coven is in chaos.”

  Caia nodded numbly.

  “I hate to ask, but … do you feel anything?”

  Every day. The hum of connection had been growing stronger and stronger, and Caia believed, ironically, that her grief had been keeping it compressed and easy to handle.

  “Yes. I already knew the coven was in chaos. Attacks have stopped. The major players are convened at their headquarters in Moscow, trying to work out where Ethan is, if he’s dead or alive. A few ambitious ones are pretending they have the trace magik.”

  “The headquarters are in Moscow? We thought they w
ere in Minsk … sneaky …”

  Caia smiled humorlessly.

  Marion grinned at her. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe we have you. This … is the beginning of the end.”

  Caia didn’t say anything, but Marion must have detected her reticence.

  “What?”

  The truth was, Caia was sure something was wrong with her trace. For days now, she’d been sensing thoughts that baffled her. It would seem there were Midnights apathetic to the war, some oblivious, some afraid, others weary, and even some who had no hatred for other supernaturals as she’d been brought up to believe. It couldn’t be right, could it?

  “Caia?” Marion urged.

  No, she wouldn’t reveal her worries to Marion, or anyone, not until she had a handle on it herself. For now, she would carry on in the capacity of adviser to the Daylights, as Marita wished.

  “The attacks will start again. They’re already panicking. Things will get out of control, and I don’t know if I will be able to help everyone when they do.”

  Marion laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You do what you can. That’s all anyone can ask. You have it in you, Caia … for Gaia’s sake, you obliterated Ethan.”

  Caia smirked. “Any theories yet on how I did that?”

  “No, but my sister is definitely going to be taking a more avid interest in you. She feels … well … responsible for what happened. I think she was testing you. But she knows someone from the Center should have been in there with you, considering you were dealing with Ethan. She wants to make it up to you.”

  Silence. And then …

  “I can’t leave them here unprotected.”

  Caia knew when the wise magik understood what she meant because she stiffened and her hand dropped from Caia’s shoulder. “You’re not leaving the pack, are you. You’re not coming to the Center with me?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Is this because of Sebastian?”

  Heaving herself off the bed, Caia approached the window and looked up at the moon. “It’s about my father.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My father did everything he could to protect me, and so did Lucien’s. Since I’ve been home, I’ve caused the kidnapping and torture of one friend, the death of another, and the attack on the Pack Leader.”

  “None of that was your fault.”

  “It doesn’t matter if it is or isn’t. I can’t turn my back on them now. They have to come first. I have to be here in case anything happens. And I can do my job for your sister just as well from here as I would have at the Center.”

  “But the Center will offer you training, and a chance to mingle with other supernaturals within Daylight.”

  “It doesn’t matter. The pack matters. My father’s pack matters.”

  “Your pack.”

  Caia drew in a breath and whirled to see Lucien standing in the doorway, his silver eyes as tired as they had been all week. Tired and sad and dishonored. That’s how he felt. As if he had failed in his duty somehow. She wanted to slap him across his thick head, and then hug him until he was the same old arrogant Lucien again.

  Marion stood while they gazed at one another and then cleared her throat. “I can see your mind is made up. I’ll leave in the morning to let Marita know of the situation.”

  “But you’ll be back?” Caia asked softly.

  Marion nodded and smiled. “Of course. I’ll be your liaison.”

  After a nod of understanding, Marion left the room. Lucien closed the door behind her and took a few more steps inside.

  “So you’re staying?”

  “If that’s okay?”

  Lucien nodded. “I heard what you said. I understand. But Caia, Christian was right before … back in the truck, after the motel. He was right about ending this war being more important. I was wrong.”

  She knew it must’ve taken a lot for him to admit that, and she smiled gratefully. “I can still do that. From here.”

  He nodded again and then looked away, seeming uncomfortable. He cleared his throat before looking back at her, his silver gaze fierce. “What I said before … I meant it. I won’t interfere with your choices any longer.”

  “Not mates?” she asked, hating that her heart ached at the thought.

  “Not mates. Maybe after I die, the pack will be ready for a change anyway. We Líders have been hogging the title for a couple of centuries too long, I think.”

  Caia looked away, not wanting him to see how hurt she was. She’d thought maybe they could work things out. Yeah, the idea of being his mate, his wife, still terrified the Hades out of her, but they wouldn’t have to have kids right away and … Lucien could’ve held her every night as she tried to compress her connection to the Midnights into something manageable.

  But that wasn’t going to happen.

  “I’ll help you,” Lucien suddenly said. “I owe you for Jaeden and me. I want to help. Whatever I can do.”

  She nodded. “I’ll probably be coordinating with the coven to prevent any attacks I see coming. I could use some help with that.”

  He smiled softly, looking a little younger than he had these last few days. “No problem. You don’t have to do this business by yourself.”

  She laughed hoarsely and flopped onto the bed. “So you’ll be like my business partner.”

  He snorted and jammed his hands into his pockets, looking like a little boy. “After what I saw you do … more like your lackey.”

  Caia chuckled. “I wish I could have seen it, but I can’t remember.”

  “It was amazing,” Lucien whispered reverently.

  “It was revolting.”

  He grinned and nodded. “That too.”

  A howl ripped through the air.

  Caia looked out her window. “Ella?”

  “She’s taking it pretty hard.”

  “There’s more to come.” Caia held his gaze now. “Are you ready?”

  Epilogue

  Jaeden

  Jaeden’s heart started beating normally as soon as the bus pulled away from the stop. She held on to her backpack like a life jacket as the town gradually fell away and she could close her eyes for a moment’s peace.

  How had it come to this? That she, Jaeden Rodriguez, who’d lived for nothing more than her pack, could only breathe again now that they were safely behind her.

  Sebastian’s funeral had been her final goodbye to a friend who had risked everything to save her. It was a risk he took, and lost, because the pack hadn’t rescued Jaeden Rodriguez; they had rescued Jaeden, broken and hollow who could suddenly move things with her mind whenever she wanted to.

  Two days ago when she returned from her first run in weeks as a lykan, her emotions had been so on the surface that before she knew what was happening, items in her room were flying all over the place. She touched her split lip absently, courtesy of a book that had flown off her shelf.

  Now she was not only broken and hollow Jaeden who didn’t know how to be around the pack anymore, she was weird, tortured Jaeden who had come home less of a lykan because she had some terrible psychic abilities.

  So this was better.

  Some clothes, stolen money, and a book were tucked into her backpack.

  Leaving the pack was the right thing to do. One more agonizing, disappointed look from her father when she didn’t react to one of his jokes—like his pre-torture Jaeden would have—was going to send her over the edge.

  Jaeden was jolted awake when the bus stopped. She yawned, looking out the window at the city. She must’ve been asleep a few hours. More passengers climbed aboard, and she kept her gaze locked in the opposite direction, praying someone wouldn’t ask—

  “Can I sit here?”

  She tried not to groan and looked up at the tall, pale young man who smiled at her. His eyes were beautiful, almost black, his smile full of wickedness. He was well built and carried himself with a confidence beyond his years. She noted he let her see his elongated incisors. He must smell what she was.r />
  “Sure,” she said softly, and the vampyre slid gracefully in beside her.

  “I’m Reuben.” He held out his right hand, and Jaeden noted the silver thumb ring. She looked up at him as they shook, his cool skin pressed against her warmth. “What’s your name, lone wolf?”

  Jae cracked her first real smile in a long time. “You can call me Jae.”

  He nodded and looked her over like she was meal. He bit his lip sexily. “Where are you going, Jae?”

  She shrugged. “Somewhere with action.”

  He perked up. “Yeah? What kind of action?”

  She smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe you know of something.” Was she flirting with the vampyre?

  Reuben chuckled appreciatively. “Well, you look like someone who could use a good punching bag. I know a whole bunch of those where I’m going.”

  “Punching bags?”

  His face suddenly became serious. “Predators who need to be stopped.”

  Jaeden’s heart began to pound. This was it. This was exactly what she needed.

  “You action?” His dark eyes drank her in.

  She didn’t need to be asked twice. “I’m action.”

  COMING SOON

  Destined (War of the Covens #2)

  About the Author

  S. Young is the pen name for Samantha Young, a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author from Scotland. She’s been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award for Best Author and Best Romance for her international bestseller On Dublin Street. On Dublin Street was Samantha’s first adult contemporary romance series and has sold in thirty-one countries.

  Visit Samantha Young online at

  www.authorsamanthayoung.com

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