4. Maeve
4
MAEVE
T he dial tone from my phone echoes through my silent office. I know this is the right move, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.
It’s like a heavy brick is placed on my chest, and each thin, gasping breath is all I can get out.
I’ve lived my entire life under the thumb of men who want to control me. Of men who want to own me. This move is a giant leap of faith, and there’s so many ways that it could go wrong.
My chromius whines in agreement, a desperation pouring from her as she tries to plead with me to stay. She’s scared to leave, but I don’t understand why.
Staying here is a guaranteed danger... at least with this dice roll, I might find the solitude I’ve been praying for.
The phone connects, and the racing of my heart replaces the echoing of the dial tones, as I clutch at the armrests of my office chair. My hands tremble, and I grip the armrests tighter to steady myself. It’s one of the only ones I own that doesn’t irritate my skin or cause me extreme anxiety. Right now, it’s my anchor, grounding me in the midst of my uncertainty.
My phone is on the desk on speaker phone, and there’s a split second before he speaks that I debate on hanging up and pretending this never happened.
“Hello.” His voice stops me from hanging up.
“This is Atticus Phoenix speaking. How can I help you?” His voice, deep and commanding, carries a Northern English accent. Unrefined, powerful, dominant—the kind of voice that brooks no opposition.
A lot can be said about the way a person sounds. The way they act when nothing other than their voice can be seen or heard. It really tells to the kind of person they are. Atticus’s voice is the kind that promises safety.
He’s got the voice of an alpha, a king of the pride.
His strength calls to me and to my chromius. He screams of safety, and a longing fills my heart. But what the fuck do I know about safety?
“Atticus Phoenix, the alpha of the Phoenix Pride?” I ask, my eyes locked onto my phone, watching the seconds tick over.
I know it is him since this is the direct number that’s logged with the Tribunal’s databases, but I want confirmation before I start spilling my guts and requesting sanctuary. I’m not sharing any secrets unless I know that they’re being shared with him because I think this is the hit that’ll hurt Adrian the most.
His rarest little mythical running away to beg for protection from the big, bad… common lion shifter. It’ll kill him more than any other move I could’ve made.
There’s a low growl from the man on the phone, and he sounds a little annoyed as he speaks, even if he is trying to control it. “That is correct. I’m Atticus Phoenix, the alpha to the Phoenix Pride. Who am I speaking with?”
Oh, I’m intrigued by this anger of his. My chromius hears the subtle changes in his tone, the way he almost merges as one with his lion as he speaks. There’s a darker edge, a more primal feel.
And yet, he’s still in the utmost control. My respect grows as my anxiety lessens. My hands let go of the armrests, and I realise I had been holding my breath.
“My name is Maeve.” Nothing else. Just Maeve.
Maeve Quinn, the sad little rich girl.
No, that’s a narrative I do not want to get into, especially not with him.
“Maeve?” Atticus asks, and there’s some movement on his end. I don’t know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t fill me with confidence to know that I don’t have his full attention.
“Yes.”
His tone is very intrigued as he murmurs, “As in Adrian?—”
“Do not associate me with Adrian Graves,” I say firmly. There’s a chuckle from him, and I can almost imagine him relaxing ever so slightly, as he tries once more to gain the upper hand from this call.
“I see.”
Does he really, though? I doubt it.
“I’m sorry for calling so late on a Friday evening,” I say, my eyes darting to the clock in my office. It’s only just after six, but with this being his personal phone, I have no idea if he’s still working.
“Don’t worry about it. This line will always be open for those who need it. Speaking of, how did you get this number, if not from Adrian?” His voice is smoother now as he plays the political game and tries to get my secrets from me. There’s still a hint of the lion in his words, but it’s tapered down.
“I know what you’re doing.” I can’t help but smile.
I think this is the first genuinely engaging conversation I’ve had in years . He doesn’t know who, or what, I am and has absolutely no interest in me as a woman or as a chromius. Sure, he’s interested in my connection to Adrian... but he’s not being creepy or making me feel uncomfortable.
Is this what a good alpha is like? Is this what a good man is like?
“And what is it that you think I’m doing, Maeve?” He almost sounds taunting here. I can hear the power in his words still, but he’s lost the growl fully.
“I’m not here to gossip about Adrian’s failures.”
That causes his breath to hitch ever so slightly. I’d have missed it if the office wasn’t so silent. “I never knew Adrian had failures to talk about. If that’s not the topic of conversation, then what can I do for you, Maeve?”
My chromius is full of warmth, and I relax completely into my chair. So far, I’ve only had good feelings from this man. I’ve called him out of the blue and put him into a position where he knows nothing, and yet, he’s been pleasant and has made both me and my animal feel safe.
I can do this. I could really leave the compound and move to this man’s pride. He’d protect me, I think.
But whether he can be trusted or not is yet to be seen. I’ve not revealed anything yet, and there’s always time for him to change his tune.
In fact, I know for a fact that he will.
My chromius whines, her upset with me clearly felt through our shared bond, but I won’t listen to her. Atticus Phoenix is a means to an end. He’s not a man I can trust. Men can’t be trusted. It’s that simple. No matter what she believes.
“I’m calling regarding a treaty you have with the Tribunal,” I say, scooting my chair closer to the desk.
“I have many.”
“Arrogance is not a good look on you, Atticus Phoenix,” I counter, and weirdly enough, I’m once again smiling. I think I could like this alpha.
Barely.
I can hear a smile in his voice as he speaks. “Maybe not. But I do think I’ve earned the right to be prideful.”
“Anyone who thinks they’ve earned the right to be prideful truly has not,” I say with a smirk. The sparring with someone is such a good feeling, the games of wit, the careful wording choices. I’ve missed this feeling.
He chuckles low under his breath.
“There’s no time for games, Atticus Phoenix. Instead, can we discuss the treaty you have in regards to endangered species?”
It’s like a switch has flipped, and he’s now very serious. “How endangered are we talking?”
“Is there a limit to what your treaty covers?”
Now I really can hear him smile. “No. I just need to know how much of a commodity you’re going to be.”
I think I’m going to like this man. From a distance. A very far distance. Where he leaves me alone and keeps all the bad people away. Including Adrian Graves and his pathetic nephew.
“I’m a chameleon shifter,” I say, getting comfortable in my chair.
The house is extremely silent, and I don’t love that, but I don’t want to dull my senses by having music or something on that will distract me from the noises on Atticus’s end. There’s none right now, and I don’t know if that’s because he’s waiting me out and hoping I’ll overshare or if it’s because he’s concerned.
I watch the numbers continue to rise, and after fifteen seconds, he’s still not said a word.
I frown as I share, “A chromius shifter to be exact.”
I’m one of the rarest mythical creatures still to exist, and I’m one of the most endangered. Mainly because the number of my species alive in the world right now is one . Me.
Not many know anything about my species, so I’ll be surprised if Atticus does. Awed, maybe. Wary, for sure.
Atticus lets out a low whistle, and I hate that I don’t know what he looks like. It destroys my visualisation of this very big moment because he absolutely does know what a chromius is. My palms are sweating, and it’s making me antsy. My legs are trembling, so I can’t get up to grab one of my tissues, so I’m trapped with this uncomfortable feeling.
Atticus still has yet to speak, his surprise clearly showing. I know he’s kind, strong, and very well-respected. I did my due diligence before contacting this man, and I’ve read as many reports as I could get my hands on from members of his pride. Especially from the mythical shifters that have petitioned the Tribunal to allow them to remain in the Phoenix Pride.
I know that Atticus has recently mated with a wolf shifter, and she’s got a pretty large collection of males, including a griffin shifter. The griffin isn’t Atticus’s only collection of mythicals, and they’re not even the only endangered species. As much as Adrian only really cares about the endangered mythicals of the compound, Atticus has numerous common species that are at risk.
There’s not much on his mate, but I hope that she’s nice.
I hope this alpha is even nicer.
“I have no doubt that we can guarantee your safety,” Atticus says, not even pausing to think about it.
Cocky or powerful? Then again, who says it can’t be both?
“But I’m going to need a few weeks to sort it out for you.” And there’s the downside.
“No can do.” I ignore the sigh from him and shake my head, despite knowing he won’t see it. “My life is about to be heavily disrupted, and having the opportunity to leave will be a very good bargaining chip for me.”
If it’s going to be weeks before I can leave, then Adrian won’t even take me seriously when I come in with my threats.
He’s already given me plenty of his own. A fake stalker, false threats of murder... and a pathetic pegasus shifter who has attempted to claim me as his own.
I can picture Atticus sitting taller, frowning now, as his voice deepens. “I will not be part of any political play you’re making with Adrian, Maeve. My loyalties are to him and the Tribunal.”
Oh, he’s cute. Does he really think I’m organising a coup against the Tribunal? I wish.
“Mine aren’t.” I cross my ankles, wiggling my toes, trying to erase the tingling feeling. “I’m serious about wanting to leave the compound, and your pride was the first place that called to me. The timing is murky because I don’t know how fast it can be worked out, but I’m miserable here and do not want to remain.”
“The compound is safe—especially for you.” He sounds confused as to why I want to leave.
“Safe is subjective,” I say, sitting back in the chair, my breathing becoming more unsteady.
Safe? The head of the compound is trying to scare me into mating with his nephew. What the fuck is safe about that?
The last time the head of…
No. I won’t go there again.
I can’t.
“And isn’t your pride… safe ?” My words are husky as I try to shake off my internal panic.
“In the efforts of transparency, we are having some personal issues with hunters,” Atticus says, and I can hear his reluctance at having to share that with me. “The few weeks buffer would give us time to wrap things up without endangering you in the process.”
What’s more dangerous to a woman scared of touch? Being brutally killed by hunters who think me filth and would do it from a distance or being forcibly mated to a man who clearly sees me as property?
“I’ll risk it.”
Now, he does truly laugh. “I’m not surprised that was your answer, Miss Quinn, however, this is something I am going to stand strong on.”
I narrow my eyes, not having revealed my surname to him. He already knows exactly who I am.
Is that a good thing? He’s been polite, comforting, even, and has seemed to see past the allure of the pretty chromius when dealing with me. He treats me like a person, like someone ordinary .
But what if that’s been his ploy all along? What if this is all just a pretence as he plays me to try and get me under his control instead?
My chromius protests. Her angry snort making her feelings very clear. She’s begging me to trust her , if not Atticus.
“But you wanted me to stay here,” I remind her across our mental bond. I can’t speak aloud and risk Atticus hearing our disagreement, but she’s confusing me.
I can feel the derision in her as she practically rolls her eyes at me.
Why is my chromius such a bitch?
Her smugness pours across our bond just as Atticus speaks once more.
“We can arrange for a trial visit in four weeks time and let you get settled. You’ll be able to have a proper look around, and we can show you what your life will look like in the pride. We’ll help you find work, housing, anything you need to help you get settled. I can negotiate on your behalf with Adrian, if that would make it easier for you. I can give him a call now?—”
“No. I want to be the one to inform Adrian,” I say, cutting the alpha off. He falls silent, and I don’t hear any anger or annoyance at the action.
Can he be trusted? He’s trying so hard to make me believe so.
“You can negotiate it once I give you the green light,” I say, and my chromius bristles at the way I’ve addressed this alpha—at the way I’ve addressed our new alpha.
It seems the lion has noticed my words. “You don’t seem willing to listen to my authority.”
My heart thuds once more, my stomach filling with dread. Will he change his mind?
Why do I care? He’s not my only option.
My chromius may not have a voice, but her feelings are so clear on this topic. I care because I think I could grow to trust him, one day.
“Your alpha prowess is not something I care about,” I say almost hesitantly. I won’t lie to him and pretend I’m something else.
I’m a mess. A broken, fucked-up mess, and whilst Atticus is my best option at truly escaping Adrian’s confines... he’s not the only one I have.
“I’m not the subservient type that’s going to follow all your orders like a good little sheep. I have my own voice, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“My goal is not to stamp out your independence and make you a sheep, Maeve. My people have lives of their own, jobs and goals that I don’t interfere with. I’m a busy man, and I cannot, even if I wanted to, dictate how every single person lives their lives.
“But being in my pride isn’t about them losing their independence or being told what to do. My people are here for the community, for the family, for the connection . They know that, should they need me, they’ve got me in their corner. And should I need them, I’d hope that was reciprocated.”
I look at my nails, giving him a bored sigh, despite the rush of warmth and hope from my chromius. “It depends on the need and how busy I am that day. I’m not a pack animal and could truly do without the entire farce.”
He laughs once more, and he seems amused, not mocking. “Give me four weeks, and we can arrange a trial visit for you.”
“Four weeks is potentially doable.” I glance through the open doorway to my kitchen, where that fake note is written, before grinning as a plan hits me. “I’m happy to wait four weeks provided that there can be an amendment made.”
“What kind of amendment?” He sounds wary, and I can’t help the way my grin widens.
Dealing with such a smart, intellectual person has really energised me. I’m wasted on the Glenda’s of the world.
“Should my life become endangered on the compound, you’ll let me come to the pride sooner than those four weeks.”
“Is there an existing threat I should know about?”
I deliberate before answering. The note has come from Adrian, who is trying to manipulate me into mating with his nephew. So far, there’s only these small suggestive threats. There’s no true danger or any plans.
I can white lie my way out of this, right?
My chromius sighs and pleads with me to be honest with our new alpha.
Doesn’t she know who I am by now?
“Unless you count Adrian Graves and his dictatorship, then no.”
There we go. Mostly honest.
My chromius sneers at me.
“Fuck me, you need some friends,” I mutter to her. “You’re starting to become as unlikable as me.”
The unsaid “and whose fault is that?” echoes through our bond, and I lose my humour.
“If the risk to your life on the compound is greater than the risk of you being in my pride during our problems with the hunters, then yes, I agree that you may come here sooner than the four weeks,” he replies.
His immediate willingness to protect me, even without knowing all the details, tugs at something deep inside. For the first time in years, I feel a glimmer of hope that someone might actually care about my well-being past the allure of what I am.
He waits a beat for me to protest, and when I don’t, he asks, “Shall we shake on it?”
“No. We should never shake on it.”
Genuine confusion echoes through his Northern words. “I see.”
He really doesn’t.
“Your words remind me of another thing I’ve yet to share.” Did he just muffle a groan at my words? I think he did. Oh, well. “I have a rule.”
“You seem to have many of them.”
I smirk, using my bravado to hide my unease. “This is the most important of them and is a deal-breaker.”
“What may that rule be?”
“I don’t touch.” I can imagine the frown on his face, and it brings me great joy to confuse his little brain.
“You don’t touch?” he asks slowly as if he’s sounding the words out. I really wish I knew what he looked like to picture this moment.
“No. I don’t touch. I don’t get touched. I get left alone.”
“Alone is something I can’t promise, Maeve. My pride is large, but it’s a community, a village. There’s nobody here that will be left truly alone.” There’s more movement on his end, and my brows draw together, before he speaks again. “But nobody will touch you without your permission. We’re not kind to abusers here, Maeve.”
“I’m glad, but I don’t just mean sexually.”
“I didn’t, either. Any physical kind of harm?—”
“Any touch would cause me great harm.”
He sighs. “Nobody will even breathe on you without your permission. We’re good people.”
Nobody is a good person.
“I’ll hold you to that.” I look down at my lap and sigh. “I don’t trust easy.”
“That’s apparent.”
I roll my eyes. “But I’d rather you heard from me about my history than whatever bullshit Adrian decides to share.”
“What do you mean by that?” I can hear the wary note in his voice, and I know this is the moment I’ll likely lose him. The draw of the chromius can’t overpower the damaged girl that it comes along with.
“When I was seventeen years old, I was surrendered to the Tribunal of the Chosen.” My voice is barely above a whisper, and I swallow hard, fighting back the rush of emotions. “I was a mythical shifter who was underage, and my family was either dead or imprisoned. Those who weren’t wanted nothing to do with me.”
My hands are shaking, and I clasp them together, despite the sweatiness, trying to hold myself together.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had to admit to this.
“What the fuck?” Atticus hisses, and I can almost feel the fury radiating from this alpha lion, as an almost protective aura washes over me. Impressive, considering he’s on the other end of a phone. “Who is your guardian now?”
“Adrian Graves.” I bite my lip, drawing blood. “I was surrendered because on the night before my eighteenth birthday, my stepfather thought it was his job to make me a woman.”
“Maeve—” There’s uncontrolled fury in his voice, but I can’t back down now.
The tears dripping down my cheeks and the numb void inside me at unleashing these memories might work as a tactic to convince him.
I can feel the sarcastic agreement from my chromius. The judgement and the “of course, you’re crying because you’re trying to trick our alpha.”
But I don’t care what she thinks she knows. It’s the truth.
“He was the alpha to our small pack, and he brought along seventeen of his closest friends to join the party,” I say, my voice carefully devoid of any emotion as I recount the story I’ve only ever told to my therapist and a courtroom full of my abusers. “Eighteen men to celebrate my eighteenth birthday.”
He doesn’t speak, but his breathing has sped up. I take it as my sign to keep going.
“Whatever game Fate was playing led some enforcers from the Tribunal to come to our pack that night for a raid. My stepfather was into some very illegal proceedings, and as luck had it, I was found that very night. Beaten, bruised, and deflowered. Because I was booked into the system a mere three hours before midnight, I was a child and have now spent the last six years adhering to the whims of Adrian Graves.”
It takes a second for him to reply, but when he does, his words are laced with a tight fury. “You’re safe now, Maeve. The Adrian I know is a good man.”
Is that all he’s going to say? I’ve bared my fucking soul to this man, and his only comment is on Adrian’s worth? Who the fuck cares about Adrian fucking Graves?
“Men aren’t good, Atticus Phoenix,” I say with a heavy sigh. “But does this change the offer of a place in your pride?”
“Not in the slightest,” Atticus says, and my eyes widen as my breath quickens.
Does he really mean that? My chromius’s smugness pours through the bond.
“Ten minutes ago, you wanted nothing to do with him. Fuck off with that,” I sneer at her. But deep down, I can’t deny the pull I feel towards this alpha lion. He’s full of strength and kindness, and maybe… just maybe, I could learn to trust him.
Maybe.
“It’ll make it harder for us to find you a security team that you can work with, but not impossible,” he continues, and I wonder if I missed something. Where did a security team come into things?
“I’m not trading one warden out for another.”
“Did you read the treaty?”
“I’ve read many of the ones you hold with the Tribunal.”
“And this specific one?” he asks, sounding amused.
“Most of it. I was in the process of transcribing it onto the system before I quit my job,” I say, my tone laced with frustration.
He laughs, but it’s not a nice sound. “One of the requirements is that every endangered or mythical shifter who joins the pride must have a security detail consisting of at least two specially trained shifters for a minimum of twelve months without any threats.”
“What’s classed as a threat?”
“Anything that endangers your life.”
I sigh, thinking about how this little letter of Adrian’s might not be the best bargaining chip because Atticus will surely see that as a threat. “How’s this going to look when it comes to the day-to-day?”
“This is how the trial period will benefit us both. It gives me the chance to work with you, to find people you’d be okay with in the long-term, and it lets you figure out if you can live this way for an extended period of time. On the compound, you’ve got a bit more freedom than you’ll have here.
“Your home is your own, and we’ll help facilitate a place for you in the centre of the pride so you’re protected and around your people. You do not need to invite your security detail in, but they will be required to remain on the property for the duration of their contract. You will have full freedom in your own home.
“With that said, you’ll be accompanied by two shifters whenever you are not at home. Approved places will be added to your safe list where you won’t need security with you. For example, my home would not require any additional security.”
“I’d hoped you were security enough on your own,” I snark.
This might not be as easy as I thought it would be.
“You’re correct on that. At home, you’ll have one person on the property at all times, but like I said, that does not mean inside your home. If you want to work, I’ll be able to find you a job you like, and depending on where, you’ll have either one or two of your security with you.”
Fuck, this really doesn’t sound as easy as I was hoping for. But is a short-term leash better than this long-term cage? He’s not once said the security team dictates my life, just that they join me wherever I go.
Can I handle that for a year?
“You’ll have regular check-ins with me, and likely with Adrian in the first few months. The Tribunal often relax once the trial is complete and you’re committed to staying. There’s plenty of other information you’ll have to agree to, but this should give you a good basis.”
“I’m still willing to try,” I say, and my chromius is filled with such hope that I’m reassured this is the right move for us.
I can imagine him nodding, so serious and firm, but when he next speaks, it’s almost teasing. “Shall I wait for Adrian to contact me or would you prefer a group meeting?”
“I’ll let him contact you once I share the news,” I say with a smile. We end the call with some more pleasantries, and I’m ready to go brag to my legal guardian.
Adrian is a pain in the ass who won’t give up until I’m happy .
But happy isn’t something I can be when I’m living under his control and threats.
So, instead, I’m searching for the place I can get the most solitude.
Twelve months of playing the game is nothing compared to the twenty-three years I’ve already spent suffering.
I can survive it.
Because that’s what I am.
A survivor.