11. Maeve
11
MAEVE
E verything is hazy like I’m underwater, and people are talking to me or around me. I can’t make out the words, I can barely make out the sounds.
My eyelids are heavy, my head being weighed down with lead. It’s weird, there’s something wrong. I try to move, but my body aches, and I don’t have the energy to move properly.
I turn my head, almost dozing off, before a loud noise startles me. I gasp, hearing more of the dull noises. I try to open my eyes, but everything is so blurry and out of focus that I don’t recognise the dark blob in front of me.
I cringe, the throbbing in my head getting worse as I fight against the thick fog that’s wrapped around my brain.
Well, around me .
My chromius is perky, full of power, and really annoying. Our bond seems dulled, despite the energetic nature she has, and I can’t reach out to her like I usually can.
Everything is so distorted.
Panic stirs in the pit of my stomach, a small fluttering that grows with each passing breath. I hear the sounds almost urgently speaking, but it’s like whoever is speaking is talking to me in a different language where the words just blend together.
My chromius hisses, and I feel her pushing forward properly before we merge as one. She clears the fog away, her high energy healing me far faster than usual.
My aching limbs settle, and my anxiety settles.
It’s clear what happened now that my mind is back to normal. Really, the first clue should’ve been the power radiating from my chromius.
She only ever gains this kind of energy boost after I’m forcefully sedated and someone violates me in my sleep. My touch-dependent chromius never feels the betrayal like I do, but it’s just another reminder of why I can’t trust Adrian Graves.
Why I’ll never be safe.
“I’m tired of this,” I mutter, my eyes opening in a few rapid blinks, as my chromius and I quickly adjust to the almost-too-bright lighting.
Of course, he wouldn’t dim the lights to make my transition easier. That would be far too kind a gesture for a man like him.
I’m in my bedroom at the embassy, a few rooms down from Adrian’s office. It’s a beautiful room, if you’re into rooms that are full of cold, luxurious items that are clearly just set up for display.
The only good thing about this room is my bed. The mattress is a firmer one that I prefer, with the bamboo sheets that don’t irritate me as much. The duvet is a light-weight blanket that gives some warmth without causing any anxiety.
I have the exact same set-up at home, so it’s at least not jarring when I wake up from one of these attacks.
It’s great to once again have been pathetic enough that Adrian resorted to sedating me.
It’s been a few months since I had a breakdown this epic, and after my heat, it’s not surprising that something triggered me enough that he had to act. I just wish I knew what caused it.
That’s one of the worst side effects for me from the sedation medication. They tend to block my memory of the event, and I’m left scrambling to try and understand.
Sedation is the best course of treatment when my panic attacks are this extreme because, as we learnt, it quite quickly dissolves into a flashback where I am at a high likelihood of hurting myself.
At least with the sedation, I just wake up slightly groggy, embarrassed, oh, yes, and violated .
“How are you feeling?” Adrian says, and I turn my head to see him sitting at my bedside with a closed laptop on his little table in front of him. Predictable and annoying.
“Fine. How long was I out?”
He cocks a brow, but I’m not lying. The meds give my body the right amount of time to calm down, to lose the panic, the anxiety, to stabilise completely. Rather than be stuck sitting with my shame and the low mood, I’ve avoided the worst effects of that.
Now, I’ve just got the embarrassment, and honestly, I’d take that over more panic. I have enough of that on the daily.
“About an hour,” he says softly. “Helen just had to run out, but she’s been here the entire time.”
I roll my eyes, bitterness filling me. “I thought my chromius felt stronger since I woke up.”
The pesky little bitch inside me practically purrs as if she’s got a victory over me, that she’s no longer starving for affection.
My senses are stronger, my healing clearly improved, and if I got up out of bed, I’d guarantee I’m more powerful.
My chromius smirks. Traitorous, bitch.
I sniff the air, smelling that he’s told the truth, with Helen’s sweet strawberry and tangy mint scent still strong enough that she must have only been gone for a few minutes. There’s a hint of something else, something more faded, buried underneath hers and Adrian’s scents.
My chromius likes it, but I’m confused by it.
White leather… and grapefruit?
It feels familiar, but I don’t know who it matches to. I discreetly try to sniff again, confused by my chromius’s weird response to the smell, as Adrian debates on how to answer me.
Luckily for him, I don’t want to get into it today.
My chromius has had some balance, and that’s all that matters, because I’m not going to acknowledge anything that happened to me whilst I was unconscious or I’ll have another panic attack that will send me spiralling even worse.
Ignorance is bliss, and even better than that is lying to oneself.
Because, no, I don’t feel better for their help. Not even a little bit.
“Thank you. I know you hate doing that.” I rub my eyes and sit up properly. My body is a little sluggish, but I know the effects will be gone in a matter of minutes.
I shove the blankets to the side and narrow my eyes at my shoes that nobody took off for me. I understand and am grateful as to the why, but, fuck, is it horrible to sleep in shoes, and my ankles are fucking aching.
At least they’ll heal quickly, this time.
Their unconscious violation of my body at least comes with one tiny perk.
“Is this Maeve actually caring about my feelings?” He gasps, clutching his hands at his chest in all of the dramatics that nobody cares about.
I scoff. “I don’t care.” I stretch, and my back cracks in such a soothing way. He flinches, not liking the sound. “But I figured I’d acknowledge that helping me has caused you pain.”
He shrugs. “That’s what I signed up for when I chose to be your guardian, Maeve.”
I snort and climb off the bed, stretching my limbs out. “Let’s be real, Ades, this is the one part of the job you didn’t sign up for. You love the perks. This is just the shitty little benefit.”
He rises to his feet, a flash of annoyance quickly masked by self-righteousness. “I’ve never once shirked my duties, Maeve. I care for you, and all I’ve ever wanted is to do what is best for you.”
“I see.” I see how much of a liar he is that he’s even managed to convince himself of the delusions he’s thought up. It’s embarrassing, to be honest.
I watch as he puts his laptop into the bag at his feet before moving the side table back to where it should be. My chromius is still trying to get me to hunt this scent down.
“I’ve arranged for you to go to the Phoenix Pride, as a trial, in four weeks time,” Adrian says, and I freeze.
Why the fuck has he interfered with my plans? Has Atticus fucking Phoenix already gone behind my back to let Adrian control me?
I orchestrated this all on my own. Atticus agreed that I could come in four weeks, and this was nearly two weeks ago. So, why the fuck is Adrian getting involved?
My chromius whines, and I don’t have the energy to care about her unhappiness. I block out our connection and narrow my eyes at the dirty politician in front of me.
He’s clearly manipulated Atticus or formed some kind of deal that screws me whilst benefiting me.
Well, I’ve got a trump card that I’m so willing to play. My little letter from my stalker is my ticket out of this place—and I don’t need to wait until the four weeks is up.
My life is in danger, and it’s at a greater danger here than it is at the pride.
Even if my letter was written by Adrian.
I scoff, anger filling me that he thinks he’s the one in control of my decision to leave. “That’s not going to work for me.”
He nods once as if he expected this. “Atticus is dealing with some hunters. We cannot risk your life by sending you there early, even with the threat that currently persists here. Not only would you be in danger, but you would make it worse for Atticus’s mate, the people in his pride, and the people who are handling the situation.”
“Oh, wow, low blow,” I say, shaking my head as my insides twist up in pain. “Blaming me for their situation? Well, I’ve got news for you—Atticus already told me about that.”
“That’s not what I said,” he argues, rubbing his temples. “I just meant that you’d be adding an extra layer of risk, and that wouldn’t be fair to anyone—not even you.”
I’d rather be taken out by hunters who want to kill me just for existing than some random stalker who likely wants me to breed a bunch of powerful little baby shifters for him.
One is a quick death, the other is lifelong torture.
But if I admit that to Adrian, he’d have me committed to Dr Jones’s care under a psychiatric hold. I guarantee I’d be forced to stay here on the compound until they’ve dosed me with enough drugs I consent to letting Julian Graves mate with me.
It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve forced consent from me whilst under the influence.
“I see.”
“And whilst, yes, Atticus and you agreed upon a four week deadline, those extra two weeks gives us some time to figure out our situation as well.”
“Our situation?” I frown as my chromius perks up. There’s a fluttering in my stomach, a growing pit of anxiety as Adrian’s eyes narrow.
“You can’t remember?”
I roll my eyes. “I never remember what happened after one of my panic attacks.”
He nods slowly, his body tensing. “Sit down, love, let’s talk about this.”
That pit is now fully formed, my hands trembling. I refuse to let him close enough to sedate me again, so I need to get a hold of myself.
Whatever he’s got to share can’t be that bad.
Surely.
Even if it did cause me to need sedation when I heard it the first time.
I shake my head. “Just say it. I can’t stand the suspense.”
He sighs and sits down as if that’s going to prompt me into copying him. “We had an argument about you wanting to leave to go to the Phoenix Pride.”
“Unsurprising,” I murmur, doing my best to hide my unease from Adrian. “You’re bullheaded and argumentative, so I’m not surprised you picked a fight.”
“Yes, Maeve, that’s exactly how it went down.” He huffs in exasperation. “You showed me the note from... well, you think I wrote it.”
My heart stops, this very moment in time freezing. Adrian’s mid-blink, his chest stopping, as I’m slammed with so much anxiety and fear.
He knows about the note.
He didn’t write it.
There’s no way he’s acting like this, there’s no way I panicked, if it wasn’t him.
Well, fuck.
My chromius snarls, but rather than letting the fear consume me, I push it away as everything unpauses.
“You didn’t write it,” I murmur, gently sitting down on the bed. Adrian blinks a few times rapidly before shaking his head.
What the fuck is going on?
Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t people see the truth behind my exterior?
Sure, I’m pretty. I’m conventionally attractive.
But inside, I’m broken.
Dirty.
Filthy.
Disgusting.
I’m an empty shell full of trauma, toxicity, and hatred.
They’d never get anything from me. I can’t stand touch, people, or connection.
What could I offer anyone, never mind a man so obsessed he’s out killing people I even look at?
Oh, fuck.
“The dead person?” I say quietly.
“Anthony Jones,” Adrian replies.
I shrug. “Don’t know them. Not a big loss, then.”
But there’s still a pang of pain knowing that they’re dead because some sick fuck thought I would smile at them. Ew.
He’s a man with a dick, and I guarantee if I ever did interact with him, the most he would’ve got was a sneer.
Adrian groans. “He’s still a life, Maeve.”
“My life is the one being impacted. Lucky boy getting such an easy end,” I say, crossing my legs together. It takes a moment to adjust to the feeling of my skin touching, but the anxiety it causes pales in comparison to this stalker.
Adrian rubs his temples. “Was this the only interaction you’ve had with... him?”
“Yes.”
He nods once. “I need you to come to me if you receive any other communication from him. If you get letters, messages, or even if you just feel someone watching. If there’s anything that is out of the norm, please, please come to me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He lets out a loud whine, and I feel a flash of his anger through the bond I have with him. I cringe.
“Do not be this frivolous with your life, Maeve,” he hisses through clenched teeth. He’s gripping the sofa, his knuckles whiter than what I can imagine my face is. “I will not tolerate it.”
“Then send me to the Phoenix Pride, away from this shit,” I hiss, glaring at him. “It’s safer for me there.”
He snarls back. “Not even a little bit, Maeve. I won’t send you somewhere that you’re at risk. Atticus and his pride are powerful people, but if there’s going to be an attack, then I need you here, where I can protect you.”
“And what does your protection look like, then?” I cross my arms in front of my chest, a fire simmering in my veins, as he tries to control himself.
My chromius and I are not impressed, and whilst I just want to run and hide, she wants to go out and track this threat down. She doesn’t care that we have no form or any ability to protect ourselves.
Fucking idiot.
But I know that if Adrian gets his way, my life is going to be even more controlled than it already was. I’ll lose all semblance of alone time, and I’ll trade my very large prison for one with twenty-four seven jailers.
It’s not a life I want to live.
“Security details, going back to work, and—” We’re cut off when the door opens and Helen walks in. She seems a lot more rested today, and is wearing a long-sleeved pale grey dress that clashes a little with her warm olive-toned skin.
Her brown hair is in her neat bun, with two gorgeous gold hair clips, and she’s wearing a full-face of make-up once more. No under eye bags, long and dark lashes, and rosy pink lips.
She smiles at me. “It’s so nice to see you up, love. How are you feeling?”
“Rested.” I give her a grim smile before turning back to Adrian. “I want to go home.”
“We’re not finished here,” Adrian says, shaking his head. “What part of you being in danger are you ignoring?”
“She’s exhausted and has just gone through a traumatic ordeal,” Helen says, placing her hand onto Adrian’s forearm. “Let’s get her home and settled, and the two of you can have this conversation tomorrow.”
“Fine.” Adrian grunts and storms out of the room, likely to go and get the doctor to do a check-up before we leave.
“Thanks,” I murmur, and Helen smiles and nods at me in solidarity. She’s likely going to have her own guard attached to her just in case.
Maybe I should make a habit of smiling at Adrian every single time we’re in public.
Hell, if I thought I could compose myself well enough in public, I’d even try touching him. That would surely be a death sentence for the annoying unicorn.
He returns with Dr Jones, and the pair of them have so much frustration and hatred pouring off them that it makes me sick. I can barely breathe under the fog of it, and my chromius is as unsettled as I am.
Strangely, she barely says a spiteful word to me. There’s no maliciousness or bitchiness in her questions. She might not care for my answers about my well-being, but she at least didn’t push me to answer.
It’s probably one of the best interactions we’ve had.
She takes a few vials of blood, despite my unhappiness over it, before leaving. Adrian’s been a hulking figure, standing in the corner, silently monitoring and taking in.
That should’ve been my warning that he was planning something.
“You have two choices,” he says once Dr Jones leaves. I groan, hanging my head in my hands. “You can come and stay with Helen and I until you move to the Phoenix Pride.”
“Or?” I say, the word muffled by my hands. Helen’s scent darkens, and I don’t know if she’s angry with Adrian or frustrated with me.
“Or you can agree to having a guard stay with you until your move to the Phoenix Pride.”
Panic clutches at me, the strong hands of it crushing my lungs, as my breathing becomes harder and harder to regulate. My legs tremble, my vision fading in and out.
“It’s your choice,” Adrian says firmly. The words echo inside my brain, but he doesn’t understand.
Neither of those options are a choice. They’re a condemnation.
“I know you’re scared, Maeve,” Helen says gently, crouching down on her knees in front of me.
My chromius hisses at her, but I press my lips together tightly, not letting the sound escape.
I can’t stay with them. I can’t do that to myself.
But worse than that... I can’t let anyone live with me.
“Outside the home,” I concede, my words coming out with a heaving gasp. Helen’s presence is suffocating, and that’s without me being trapped in their home.
In a place where I once felt safety before they ripped it from me when they showed their true colours.
Adrian tilts his head as I raise mine to look at him. “Throughout the day, that’s fine. I want them inside at night time.”
I ignore Helen as she gets up to sit in the chair Adrian vacated earlier.
“No.” I shake my head, finding a little confidence at the realisation that I can negotiate. He’s terrified for my safety, and he’s willing enough to listen.
We argue back and forth for nearly twenty minutes before we reach a compromise that only makes me want to die, rather than actively sending me to the grave with paralysing fear.
One guard throughout the day to monitor the perimeter of my property, and two guards at nighttime whilst I sleep. Nobody is permitted in my property or to have access to my cameras outside of Adrian.
That is something I don’t want to relent on.
He wants me back at the archives to try and keep a low profile and keep my schedule the same so as to not upset this mysterious stalker of mine, and whilst nobody will actively be with me in public, they’ll be tailing me and keeping a close eye on me and everyone I interact with.
I relish in my happiness at being back in my safe haven, for a brief moment, before he takes that away from me, too.
The biggest compromise of all comes in the name of Julian fucking Graves. I hate him and everything he stands for, and I resent the fact that I’ve got to share space with that manipulative, lying pegasus who thinks he’s a gift to this Earth.
Fool.
Not only will Julian be working every shift I do, he’s going to be the one in charge of setting my assignments, and if he’s worried enough for my safety, he’s going to be escorting me home.
Adrian wasn’t too concerned about his nephew being put in my stalker’s path. I wonder if Julian understands he’s barely worth more than a knight on Adrian’s chessboard—not the pawn that I am, but still so very expendable.
“If that’s all, I’m ready to leave,” I say softly.
Adrian nods once. “I’ll take you home. Let me go get the car.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s a fifteen minute walk. I’d rather?—”
“Car or I find a wheelchair.”
I snap my lips shut, glaring at his back as he leaves the room.
Helen comes to sit down on the bed, a soft expression on her face. “I know it’s hard to trust us, but we do care for you, Maeve. All we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”
“You’re doing a great job with that,” I mutter, and she sighs. I don’t have the energy to make her feel better. “I need the bathroom before we go.”
“Okay, love.”
There’s a sadness that seems to grow the further I walk from Helen, but I won’t examine that feeling. I don’t care if she’s upset, and there’s no reason it would bother me whatsoever.
I use the bathroom, the luxury of this place could be impressive if you cared about the great grandeur of the Tribunal. I, personally, do not when I know it’s made up of a group of assholes.
As I leave, I come to a heavy stop, seeing a tall, lean, prick. He’s leaning against the wall just outside the men’s toilets, a healthy four or five feet away.
“I take it you’re feeling better, then?” Julian asks.
I sneer, letting my annoyance with him show. “What is it to you?”
It’s a little creepy that he’s here waiting for me because he wasn’t in the hallway at all before I went into the toilet. It’s annoying that my chromius seems to perk up in his presence. If I knew that I couldn’t form a bond without touch, I’d be nervous that she’s gone behind my back and tried to bond with this fraud.
My chromius is so desperate to be loved, so desperate for connection, that I wouldn’t put it past her.
I sniff the air, his scent reminding me of the grapefruit and white leather that was in my room. I shouldn’t be surprised that Adrian let this white knight use my bedroom.
But what I am annoyed about is that Adrian’s shared with his nephew about my state of unwell. Did he share my heat and hospital stay? My pathetic panic attack?
All of it?
“I know you can’t feel our bond, so I won’t waste your time trying to force my truth on you,” Julian says, and my eyes narrow as my chest tightens.
Why does it hurt that he’s already given up?
It was a farce. I knew it wasn’t true.
Fate wouldn’t be that cruel.
“That’s... magnanimous of you.”
He smiles, but the light doesn’t quite reach his baby blue eyes. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Maeve.”
“The fact that you know I wasn’t healthy is where my problems lie.”
He nods once, resignation falling upon his not pretty features. My chromius whines, a desperate plea to erase that expression.
Seriously, why should we give a fuck that this pretty boy is sad?
“I’ll see you on Wednesday,” I blurt out. His eyes widen, and some bitterness fills my tone as his scent muddles together, showing his confusion.
I’m bitter as I snark, “Didn’t Adrian tell you? I’ll be back at the archives with you come Wednesday, after my little sabbatical.”
“Sabbatical? I thought you quit.”
Now, it’s me who smiles without it reaching my eyes. “Didn’t you hear? Glenda was fired for her lack of professionalism. She’s had it out for me since I started working there with her, and she put through the paperwork to try and get rid of me.”
Julian barks out a laugh. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Maeve.”
“Yeah. Better.”
I nod my head and turn away, moving back to the room where my jailers are no doubt waiting for me.
And if there’s a genuine smile on my face, that’s nobody’s business.