Don’t think about her. Not here. Not now. All I needed was to start throwing off a scent of arousal and the others would catch on quick. And it wasn’t that this situation was arousing, but the constant playback of memories from my last three days in Avi’s bed had me constantly jonesing for another hit of her.
Without claiming and accepting the bond, my body was stuck in primal mode, and logic didn’t play into it, which was one of the reasons I was doing my best to keep my mouth shut tonight. I was halfway worried that if I tried to speak, I’d spout some caveman shit.
“I sped it up, so if we watch here for an hour, we should see everyone,” Jocelyn clarified as a couple went by me like they were training for speed-walking at the Olympics.
“What’s the aura?” I sheathed my blade. “Everyone has this pinkish glow.” Excellent, that sounded like English. At least my cock hadn’t overridden my brain yet.
“Magic,” Jocelyn answered, sidestepping to avoid the path of one of the figures. “I’ll watch for Greenbriars, since my sister expelled their coven two weeks ago. You guys look for anyone who doesn’t have an aura…or a camelback. This area is popular with human hikers, too, and it would be a shame to hunt one of them down on accident.”
“Noted,” Lachlan said. “Divide it into sections. Go.”
He didn’t need to order us into specific positions. We all gravitated toward open sections and began to observe. That was one of the advantages of having fought together for centuries—we all knew our jobs. And the Hunters, while still operating as their own tight-knit group, fell in with little to no fuss.
There were no arguments about pecking order between Lachlan and Zachariah. No competition between Ransom’s combat skills and Talon’s ability to shift into whatever animal he wanted as an opponent. Ajax pulled pranks, but Benedict never lectured him. And Dagon…well, I kept my eye on that one, seeing as he’d been the last to join our side. We’d all blended seamlessly into a team to protect our species and our king.
All except Samuel and Saint.
Assholes.
Two little ghostly girls skipped by, each emanating an aura as they picked herbs at the base of a nearby tree. Two lovers came next, their hand gestures and faces enough to tell me they were arguing. Both had auras.
“That’s a Greenbriar,” Jocelyn muttered, coming to my side.
“Should we follow?” I had to give the guy some pity, because his girl was livid.
“No. I know this couple. She’s a Leifstar and they are betrothed.” Jocelyn’s eyebrows raised as the girl threw something at the boy—a ring. “Or I guess they were betrothed. My sister told me there have been more than a few betrothals either sped up or broken due to the Greenbriar exile.”
“The girl could have gone with him?” Now her hands were over her face as she wept.
“She could have taken his name and gone to the Greenbriar coven, or he could have taken hers and become a Leifstar. We’re a matriarchal society, remember?” Jocelyn shook her head. “But family responsibilities are hard to shake. He feels duty-bound to his coven and doesn’t want to dishonor her with exile.”
“So, he’ll choose his family over love.” I folded my arms across my chest. Just like Avianna was doing. You never gave her love as an option.
“It’s not that simple.” Jocelyn sighed as the couple parted ways, the male journeying into human land while the witch walked back toward her coven’s territory, her shoulders stooped with dejection. “He probably feels as though he’d bring dishonor to her name if he married her.”
“Was he one of the warlocks who chose to align themselves with the Deverauxes and the Sons?” I dismissed another couple who stumbled onto the scene, hastily removing each other's clothing. They both had auras and Jocelyn didn’t say a word as we turned our back on them for the sake of privacy.
“He wasn’t.” She shook her head. “Neither was his mother, but his father… Well, you know what they say about the sins of the father.”
Of course I did. I was the fucking sin of the father.
“It’s hard for some guys to get over that,” she whispered, giving me an odd look. “You know, the idea that we should only be judged by our own actions and not those of our parents, or the status of our birth.”
I shot her a look that would have scared off most males.
“After all, I’m the daughter of a traitor.” Her eyes softened. “Right? And yet all you see when you look at me is Benedict’s mate.”
“You slayed your mother. Not all of us have that same opportunity.”
She tilted her head. “Would that really matter?”
Ajax called her name, and she walked to his section, identifying another set of warlocks.