If Leila were a betting woman, she’d bet the healer was very concerned she could wake up with wings someday. Maybe Leila’s new trifecta status could make that happen…if only for a little while.
It might be funny.
She didn’t speak much. Not when Mary tucked her hair behind her ears, murmuring about her external processors, nor when Sophia touched her wings, grinning widely. Gris-Gris must have spoken with Sebastian, because he explained more about trifectas to the pack than the conduit had told her earlier.
It didn’t matter to her, not now. Alex’s heart beat underneath her hand, and her family was around her, whole and no longer threatened. Briony’s vision hadn’t come true—the warlocks hadn’t succeeded.
Because of Alex, who’d almost been killed in the process.
Even a werewolf Elder came in at some point, leaning down to say something to her that she didn’t process. She was tired, and her knees stung. Her back ached, unused to the weight of her wings.
So she stretched out next to Alex, who slept deeply now that he’d been completely healed due to the conduit and Aiyanna’s combined efforts.
“We won,” the Elder exclaimed. “After thousands of years, we won.”
Glasses clinked, but Leila didn’t hear them. All she heard, solid against her ear, was the steady beat of Alex’s heart. Sleep met her without protest.
Epilogue
Three days later
ALEX watched Leila in her ballet class, stretching her back right leg high over her head while she gripped the barre.
One minute, she mouthed, blowing him a kiss before turning back to watch her instructor, a severe-looking woman with raven-black hair tied in a literal knot at the base of her neck. She barked orders at the class like a seasoned drill sergeant despite the end of class time having passed almost five minutes ago.
Derik decided to postpone the production of Don Quixote for another three days, allowing it to begin one week later than intended. It would make rehearsal for Swan Lake hellacious because of the time crunch, Leila had told him, but the other dancers were still shaken from what could’ve been a shooting.
The human who’d helped prevent the attempt on Leila, Newt Cunningham, had dropped by the firehouse yesterday to inform them that he didn’t need their protection. All of the late senator’s files pertaining to his assassins, along with a compiled list of others on his payroll for illegal doings, made it to the police.
No one told Newt it had been Harry, Sebastian’s assistant, who had a knack for computers and found the encrypted files and anonymously reported them. Mary had been concerned the human was in danger, and she’d been right. Without Harry and Sebastian’s intervention, the police would have already arrested Newt for something he had no part of.
Five minutes and three annoyed messages from Raphael later, Leila emerged from the locker room down the hall, her skin glistening like the wings that peeped above her back. They were always invisible to humans, but she could choose to allow creatures to see them. Usually she kept them visible, enjoying the sight of them over her shoulder or reflected in the mirror.
It was a good thing most of her dance gear dipped low enough on her back for her wings to remain unbound. Come fall, she’d be forced to drastically adjust her clothes, something she’d already muttered about a few times. When he mentioned the way he liked being able to see the creamy skin of her back, she’d thrown one of Beau’s bones at him, but not without a grin and a salacious gleam in her eye.
He’d never heard of a banshee with wings, but then, he’d never met a trifecta either. And now they both were categorized that way, as creatures so powerful most other creatures believed their existence to be mythical.
That suited him and Leila just fine. They had access to all the power gathered by every warlock—at least, that of the spirits who’d decided to stay with them—which was enough of a responsibility by itself. Already they’d met with the temporary High Witch, Briony’s grandmother, to swear by the witch’s covenants that they wouldn’t misuse their very hairy talisman.
It was more than slightly shocking to have that much energy living inside the body of a hare. Like Gris-Gris, the energy would never run out, unlike Alex’s book talismans. There was simply so much that it feed from itself, producing a constant stream of energy physicists everywhere would kill to study.
They’d named it Heart, the English version of Alex’s mother’s name. Leila thought it would remind them to be careful what they used the conduit for.
Alex knew they wouldn’t misuse the power. He had Leila, his mate, thanks to an extra magical push. What else could he possibly want now that he had the one thing he thought would always elude him?
“What’s this meeting for?” Leila asked, taking Alex’s outstretched hand. He winced at sight of her still-bruised knees, with two scabs the size of his palm moving down to her calves, which she repeatedly forgot to ask Aiyanna to look at.
They’d been busy since the moment he woke up with her wrapped around him so tightly. The wicked woman had even distracted him when he tried to call Aiyanna, kissing him in places that turned his thoughts away from anything practical. Alex reminded himself to punish her for the slight…with tickles in that spot between her neck and shoulder, the exact place that sent her into fits of involuntary laughter.
He’d suggested she use her wings to dance, at least until her injured knees were healed, but she refused.
“I’m going to do this like every other dancer: with blood, sweat, a few tears, and a hell of a lot of ice.”
His mate, who could do almost anything with her newfound abilities, was a true, organic athlete. He couldn’t have been prouder.
“You’ll have to see,” he evaded, unwilling to ruin the surprise.
Leila arched her eyebrow, but didn’t pester him. Instead, she turned on the radio the moment they reached the car, twisting the volume up and placing her head on Alex’s shoulder with a sigh.
He smiled. She soaked in every sound like a dry sponge. Music brought tears to her eyes, as did his voice the first time she’d heard it after her hearing mechanisms had healed. She’d sobbed then, confusing him until he noticed the absence of devices attached to her ears and hair. Now she listened to X Ambassadors, a song called “Gorgeous,” her lips turning up while her fingers drummed to the beat.
They already planned to attend a slew of music festivals this summer, choosing the ones that fit around her dance schedule as well as one that would take them back to Alex’s home near Lyon, France.
Beau met them at the door of the firehouse. They weren’t sure how he got around, as he seemed to know where they ended up even better than they did, but cadejos were pretty rare. Wish had known of the canine creatures, and he’d told them not to worry—if Beau hadn’t already killed them, he’d only endanger those who intended him or Leila harm. It was exactly what the beast had done since Alex met him.
Voices came from the garage where everyone in the pack used to stay during the full moon. It was rigged to keep angry werewolves inside without hurting anyone, complete with spelled chains not even they could get out of until they were back in human form once the sun rose.
Now, Alex suspected they would renovate the space for something else entirely. Everyone in the pack was mated now, meaning their wolves would be controlled during the full moon. Alex planned to sleep next to Leila in wolf form, cuddled up to her as closely as he would be as a human.
“I’ve always wanted a fur-covered body pillow,” Leila had teased just yesterday when Beau had sprawled over her legs, his head resting on her belly. “Now I have two.”
Alex thought he knew why the meeting was called…but Raphael hadn’t told him the Elders would be here. All five stood shoulder to shoulder, their shrewd gazes moving straight to Leila’s wings as soon as she stepped into view. Alex stepped in front of her and bared his teeth at the men and women. Raphael had told him—and everyone else in the pack—about the way the Elders had manipula
ted them to defeat the warlocks. Alex wouldn’t let them succeed in controlling him or his packmates ever again.
As far as he was concerned, they were retired from danger. At least as much as they could be in New Orleans, where humans dabbled in magic they shouldn’t touch and new creatures arrived every day, some friendly, others bloodthirsty.
Hey, no city was perfect.
“Finally,” Aiyanna drawled, winking at them. Cael shook his head. Briony had found a beanbag to sit in, the only furniture in the room. Heath, Sophia and Sebastian were deep in conversation not far from her, while Raphael stood nearest to the Elders without giving them his back. Mary watched the chains near their feet, frowning. Knowledge darkened her eyes.
“We came to inform you that your pack’s status has changed,” Nathaniel said, smiling. No one returned his smile. He didn’t seem to mind, while Arthur, Sandra and Clay, some of the other Elders, all bristled.
“You’re officially no longer a clan prohibitum, even though you really haven’t been one for the past six months. But the change is more than that: you’re going to become the first clan rex in the United States.”
Cael, his arm around Aiyanna, muttered an oath that left the Elders staring.
“It’s an honor,” Clay, a rather large older immortal, chastised.
Sebastian, by far the most diplomatic among them, shrugged his broad shoulders. “You left us in disgrace for decades, and now you want to honor us?” His smile was anything but friendly. “With all due respect, this is bullshit.”
“Hear hear!” Heath cried. Sophia nodded, and Briony burst into giggles in her beanbag, curling her legs to her chest while she tried to control herself.
“No.” Alex stepped forward, keeping Leila behind him but close enough for him to feel her heat. They hadn’t merely used him and his friends, his brothers. They’d used her too, putting her in danger.
Then again, the Elders had allowed Mary to be executed about a year ago, something he doubted Raphael had forgiven them for.
“We won’t be dictated by you ever again.” At his words, Beau barked, showing the Elders a terrifying scowl he’d never once turned on him, Leila or any other packmate. Heart appeared next to Beau, while Gris-Gris landed on Briony’s lap.
Even without the conduits in the room, even without their mystical, rather protective dog, the pack had the Elders outgunned. They were an omni, a water elemental who could travel through air, a fire elemental with an affinity for electricity, the strongest air elemental Alex had ever heard of, and a man who could control earth.
Not to mention their extraordinary mates.
The Elders couldn’t control them now because no one could.
Clay, Arthur and Sandra sneered at him while Nathaniel and Mariel merely watched their motley group, Mariel with what appeared to be pride. She hid it better than Nathaniel, who didn’t attempt to keep the grin from his face.
“Then we won’t make demands of you,” Nathaniel said simply, shrugging. Clay gaped, and Sandra hissed out a breath.
At least Arthur nodded, resigned.
“But when we bring you a case, you can do a lot of good,” Mariel added beseechingly. “You have the power to stop anyone who threatens what should be protected.” Now she watched Alex and Leila intently. “I’m not sure anyone can stop you.”
“They can’t.” Raphael’s eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenched. Alex knew that look well, had seen it every time anyone their Alpha loved was placed in peril.
If the Elders didn’t leave soon, they wouldn’t survive the night.
“We’ll consider your offer. You may leave.” He gestured toward the door, his eyes blazing with a fury that wouldn’t abate for a very, very long time.
Beau circled them until they finally left, and Raphael followed, personally seeing that they stepped outside his pack’s home. Heath disappeared too, but returned with Raphael a few minutes later.
Behind them were three blonde women and a redheaded man, a family Alex had seen in many pictures but only once in person. That had been yesterday, after he and Raphael received a message from Briony about San Diego. When he’d asked how she knew where to find them, she’d replied with a cryptic, “Some ghosts.”
Leila’s eyes went wide. She froze, her gaze darting from Alex, to her sister, Raphael, and finally back to the small family who resembled her own so clearly.
Because they were her own. Like Leila, they’d managed to escape the senator, moving so many times, across so much land, that the assassins were left with a dead end. They’d already told Alex and Raphael, and he’d let them tell Leila and Mary their story in their own time.
Including the fact that their uncle was a witch, and her cousins just as much witches as banshees. Their magic had saved them.
“Aunt Ianthe?” Mary asked, taking a hesitant step forward. The woman, who looked to be the same age as her daughters, nodded earnestly, and the two stepped into each other’s arms.
Tears in her eyes, Mary held out an arm for Leila. “Come here, you,” she ordered with fake sternness.
Leila flew into their embrace, literally, causing one of her cousins to murmur an impressed “Whoa,” while her sister simply cried.
Because of two ghosts, a few phone calls, a Google search, and a trip to California, their pack expanded to accept four more members.
Her wings flapping excitedly, Leila physically pulled Alex into the fray, introducing him to her family as her mate.
Her uncle shot him a sharp look, which Alex took in stride. He waited until stomachs began to growl and Sophia threatened to eat someone if they didn’t order food to quietly ask for Peter’s audience. Leila’s uncle had shrewd eyes that reminded Alex of his mate despite the lack of shared blood between them. For a witch, he had an intimidating build that rivaled that of himself or his packmates.
“We’re already mated,” Alex began, meeting the man’s green eyes, “but I intend to ask Leila to marry me.” He took a breath and realized he was terrified. Not of her uncle, but of what Leila might say. She’d never mentioned marriage, not even when her own sister had gotten married.
“She needs to have a choice,” Alex continued. “So much of her life was chosen for her that I can’t do it to her again.” Of course, they would be together whether she chose to marry him or not. Mating was beyond marriage, beyond what a simple paper could separate.
But he wanted her to be his in every way—legally, magically, and physically. Exactly like he belonged to her, down to his very heart and soul.
“Would you give us your blessing?” he finally asked.
Peter held his gaze for a few long, silent seconds, but finally nodded, his stoic expression softening. “So long as you love her and always give her a choice, I can see no reason not to.” He lifted his hand, which Alex grasped and shook.
“But I won’t hesitate to torture you if you hurt her.”
The man was serious. Alex wouldn’t have it any other way.
This time, he didn’t sleep through the festivities. Somehow Heath and Cael managed to bring a crawfish boil to their roof, where Leila DJ’d after Aiyanna finally healed her knees, and Sebastian tapped a keg. Briony disappeared when they were halfway through the massive vat of crawfish, returning twenty minutes later with a cake from a nearby bakery, Bittersweet Confections.
It read, Congratulations, Packmates!
“How’d you know?” Sophia asked her suspiciously as she sliced into the yellow iced C.
Briony merely lifted a shoulder, smiled at her mate and stage whispered, “I also know that if you don’t call Christabel back, she’s going to harsh everyone’s mellow tonight.”
Heath and Sophia both went white.
Leila leaned into Alex and whispered, “Did we get on the wrong side of that faery again?”
There was no fear in her voice, but simple curiosity. Alex pulled her closer, reached out to steal the crawfish tail Aiyanna had just finished peeling and popped in into his mouth, i
gnoring her growl of protest.
“I don’t really care,” he said.
Leila laughed and leaned in, placing her head against his chest. Alex rested his cheek on the top of her head, letting her silvery hair catch in the scruff of his beard. Whatever the problem was, they could fix it. Whoever decided to gun for them, they could defeat.
They were pack, family.
No one would ever hurt them again.
* * * *
“I might gut them. But only a little bit, and with their healer—”
Emmanuel cut Christabel off with a dull stare. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, which was covered in obvious claw marks. When they faded, she’d have to remember to replace them.
As it turned out, kelpies were far more fun than they received credit for. She bit back a grin.
“You hurt one hair on that pack’s collective head and you’ll be dead before you can say, ‘I fucked up,’” he told her with a lift of his shoulder. Long black hair fell down to his waist, as shining and healthy as human women wished to have. It was somehow, impossibly, very masculine. Someday, Christabel would have to figure out why.
She shut her eyes, effectively shutting out her distracting thoughts, and focused on what he’d said.
“When they find out what they’re missing by avoiding my calls, they’ll ask me to gut them,” she said with a snort. She didn’t care why Emmanuel had warned her about them; she was far more powerful than even he knew. Warlocks had never intimidated her, so a motley crew of weres sure as hell wouldn’t either.
The truth of it, as hard as it was for her to admit, was that she needed Heath, Sophia, and probably the rest of that damned weird werewolf pack. And they needed her, Emmanuel, and anyone else willing to help their cause.
Because she thought she knew where Katarina and Vale were, and if she was right, it would take a miracle and a half to get them out alive.
Whatever Sophia and Heath were doing, they didn’t have time for it. She’d never say it aloud, but she didn’t want anything to happen to her little almost-warlock protégé. And if something did happen, blood, bone and gristle would be shed. It probably would be anyway, simply because someone else had dared lay claim to Katarina.
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