18. Caius #2
I nod my thanks and move toward Anouk, who is currently pretending to inspect damage to a wall sconce while very obviously avoiding conversation with the three council members trying to get her attention.
“Coven Leader Darkwater—”
“The formal debriefing can wait until tomorrow.” My voice carries just enough alpha authority to make the council members step back. “She needs rest.”
“But the protocols—”
“Will still exist in the morning.” I take Anouk’s elbow, steering her toward the side exit. “Vera has authority to handle immediate matters. Any questions that require the coven leader’s attention can be directed to her office. Tomorrow.”
The council members exchange uncertain looks but don’t argue. Smart.
“You’re very commanding when you want to be,” Anouk murmurs as we slip through the door.
“I’m always commanding. You just don’t usually let me get away with it.”
“I’m too tired to argue.”
“Then we should get you somewhere you can rest.”
The apothecary is quiet when we arrive.
Late afternoon light filters through the windows, catching dust motes that drift across the still air.
The herbs lining the shelves seem to lean toward Anouk as we enter—responding to her presence, her magic, her exhaustion.
The brass bell above the door chimes once, then falls silent, as if the shop itself understands this isn’t a moment for announcements.
“I should check the wards.” She moves toward the back room. “Make sure nothing was damaged in the—”
“The wards are fine.” I catch her wrist, turn her to face me. “You’re not.”
“Caius—”
“You fought a Preserver agent. Survived a severing ritual. Maintained perfect control in front of the entire council.” I draw her nearer, watching the way her careful mask flickers at the edges. “You don’t have to maintain it anymore. Not with me.”
For a moment, she resists. Old habits, deeply ingrained. The coven leader who never shows weakness, never lets her guard down, never admits that she might need—
The mask cracks.
It’s not dramatic. No tears, no collapse. Just a slow exhale, a relaxation of tension in her shoulders, a slight lean toward me that becomes a full surrender when my arms wrap around her.
“That ritual,” she whispers against my chest. “I couldn’t feel you. For a moment, I couldn’t—”
“I know.” I press my lips to her hair, breathing in the scent of herbs and magic and her. “I couldn’t feel you either.”
“It was terrifying.”
“Agreed.”
“I’m not supposed to be terrified.” Her voice cracks slightly. “I’m not supposed to feel like my world ended when I lost your location for thirty seconds.”
“Human?” I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. “You’re allowed to be scared, Anouk. You’re allowed to need people. You’re allowed to admit that losing me would hurt.”
“It would destroy me.” The words are quiet, fierce. “I didn’t realize until I couldn’t feel you anymore. How much I’d come to rely on knowing where you are. Having that certainty.”
“Certainty that I’ll always be there?”
“Certainty that you’re mine.” Her hand presses against my chest, over my heart.
“I convinced myself I didn’t want this. Didn’t need it.
Building walls so high that no one could climb them.
And then you were gone—just for a moment—and the walls didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered except getting you back. ”
“You did get me back.” I draw her nearer. “The ritual failed. The claiming held. Whatever magic chose us, it’s stronger than any attack the Preservers can throw at it.”
“Because we waited so long.” Her laugh is watery, almost disbelieving. “That’s what Grandmother Peach explained. Our stubbornness saved us.”
“I prefer to think of it as unusual patience.”
“You would.” She’s smiling, the expression small and fragile but real. “All those council meetings. Watching each other across the table. Refusing to act. Convincing ourselves it was professionalism.”
“Strategic restraint.”
“Denial.”
“Also denial.” I trace the shape of her jaw with my thumb. “But it’s over now. No more denial. No more walls. Just us.”
I kiss her forehead. Her cheek. The corner of her mouth.
“You’re not losing me. The ritual failed. We’re still claimed.” I meet her eyes, letting her see the truth there. “We’re going to stay claimed. Forever, if you’ll have me.”
“Forever sounds acceptable.”
“High praise.”
I kiss her properly this time—slow, thorough, a kiss that makes promises I intend to keep. When we part, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are soft. “Come with me. Pack territory. My cabin.”
She blinks. “Now?”
“Now. Tonight. Tomorrow.” I rest my forehead against hers. “However long you want. Just be mine for a while. Let me take care of you.”
“That’s a very wolfly request.”
“I am a very wolfly person.”
“You’re a ridiculous person.” But her arms are wrapping around my neck, and her body is relaxing against mine, and her magic is humming contentment through the air around us. “Fine. Take me to your territory, Alpha Sternwolf.”
“With pleasure, Coven Leader Darkwater.”
I carry her out of the apothecary.
Not because she can’t walk—she can, and she’d probably argue the point if she weren’t so exhausted—but because I want to. Because my wolf is demanding it, and for once, she’s not fighting.
“This is unnecessary,” she murmurs against my shoulder.
“Probably.”
“I’m perfectly capable of walking.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“You’re doing this to be dramatic.”
“I’m doing this because you just survived a severing ritual, and I haven’t fully steadied since Cordelia attacked.
Carrying you is the only thing that’s helping that settle.
” I adjust my grip, cradling her more securely against my chest. “Also, you’re warm, and I like holding you. Consider it selfish motivation.”
“Selfish.” Her voice is soft, almost amused. “You’ve never been selfish a day in your life.”
“I’m learning.”
The streets of The Hollow are mostly empty—word of the council confrontation has spread, and most of Mistvale is apparently processing from the safety of their homes.
We pass The Crescent Cup, where Marcus and Thalia watch from the window with expressions of vampire inscrutability.
Marcus raises a coffee cup in silent acknowledgment.
We pass Moonpetal Bakery, where Sunny waves enthusiastically while Biscuit the toad maintains his air of dignified disapproval. A sign in the window already reads: “Congratulations to our community leaders! Celebratory cookies available tomorrow!”
“That was fast,” Anouk observes.
“Sunny’s gossip network is legendary.”
We pass Thornwick Books, where Berry presses her face against the glass with obvious delight. Her quill is still smoking from the earlier interview session. Tomorrow’s historical record is writing itself, apparently.
“Everyone is watching.”
“Let them watch.” I keep walking, not slowing. “I’ve wanted to carry you off somewhere since the moment we met. They can document the occasion.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means pack territory. My cabin. A fire, a bed, and absolutely no one who needs a single request from either of us until morning.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am tired.” She yawns against my shoulder. “But I’m also yours. And apparently being carried through town like a very dignified sack of potatoes.”
“The most elegant sack of potatoes I’ve ever carried.”
We reach the edge of pack territory as the sun begins to set. The forest rises around us, ancient trees creating a canopy that filters the golden light into something soft and welcoming. The path is well-worn—generations of wolves have walked it before me, and generations will walk it after.
But tonight, it’s just us. Just me and my mate, heading home.
“Caius?” Her voice is sleepy, muffled against my shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Thank you. For coming for me. For never giving up. For waiting all those years even when I gave you every reason to walk away.”
“I was never going to walk away.” I press a kiss to her hair. “You were always worth waiting for.”
“Even when I was being impossible?”
“Especially then.”
Something deep and certain settles in my chest—the compass finding true north, the awareness of her steady and unbreakable where it lives behind my ribs.
She laughs—tired, genuine, perfect—and lets herself relax fully against me.
I carry her the rest of the way in comfortable silence. The ritual failed. The Preservers lost. And the woman I’ve loved for years is, finally, truly mine.