13. MaeveJulian
13
MAEVE
T he journey to the docks is hellish. The enforcer that Adrian has stationed watching my house is the biggest pain in the fucking ass to ever exist.
Okay, well, probably not the biggest. But close enough.
We argued over my desire to leave the property, and despite offering to let him take me, he refused that, too. I was seconds away from tasing the bastard, and then ordering a taxi before he got the brilliant idea to call Adrian and ask for permission.
Adrian is clearly trying to stay in my good books because he gave the guard the go ahead to drive me down to the docks without making a fuss about wanting to take me himself.
Very surprising, but I’ll take the win where it’s offered.
Too bad this enforcer’s salary must be shit, though, because his car is the worst I’ve ever had the misfortune of sitting in.
The seatbelt practically strangles me with each aggressive turn he makes, and he’s treating the speed bumps like they’re a personal challenge. My stomach is coiled tight with anxiety and every move makes me want to hurl.
Leather seats—horrid, uncomfortable, sticky things—cling to my bare legs, pulling at my skin with every jolt. My thighs are red and irritated by the time we pull up to the dock.
But I’m too empty to care.
In his frustration, he gets us to the dock in fifteen minutes, and whilst it was a horrible drive, at least I made it here in one piece with my mind mostly intact.
“Am I going to be fired?” the enforcer asks, his voice tight with fear as he turns the engine off.
I scoff, turning my head to look out the window instead of answering him. If I’m lucky, my stalker will find him first. For having the audacity to drive me in this deathtrap of his, I hope he’s taken care of in a very vicious way.
If he’s lucky, Adrian will fire him and remove him from the compound before his life truly does pay the price.
I personally hope my stalker is faster.
“Maeve?” He sounds so vulnerable, but it sucks to be him, really.
I don’t even know his name. Does he really expect me to care after the colossal fuck up he made that has impacted me ?
Because if he does, then he’s a bigger idiot than I thought.
I relied on this man to keep my home safe. I trusted that he’d be competent enough to not fuck up the one job he was given.
That was a mistake.
“Are you okay, Maeve?” he asks, glancing nervously at the large boat in front of us. “Do you want to wait in the car until Adrian arrives?”
“Does it look like I want to wait for Adrian?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
He sighs and nods once. We get out of the car, and I let him pop open the boot. I practically snarl at the man as he tries to grab my suitcase, and instead, I lift it out of the boot myself.
The feel of the cool, black handle in my hands makes bile rise in my throat, but I don’t let it show.
He tries to get my attention, but I ignore him, rolling my eyes as I pull my suitcase up the dock. The boat looms large, it’s white and so very expensive—probably worth more than I could earn in a decade from the archives.
The captain waits on the platform, dark hair and dark skin contrasting with his crisp white T-shirt and black slacks. He’s barefoot, though. It’s a little weird.
I discreetly sniff the air, letting my chromius have her time. The captain is a merman.
That explains the bare feet. I should probably just be thankful that he’s clothed.
“Maeve Quinn?” he asks as I drag my suitcase onto the boat.
“Just Maeve.”
My voice is firm, refusing his hand with a small shake of my head. My chromius stirs, drawn to the scent of salt in the air. The boat blocks the ocean from view, but I don’t need to see it to know it’s there, vast and unyielding, like the memories it always dredges up.
Rocky movements. Women’s voices. Me crying. Begging someone to help me.
My chest tightens, and for a second, I’m seventeen again and stuck on a boat just like this one, on my way to the place I thought was going to be my safe haven.
How fucking wrong I was. I shake my head, pushing the memories down, locking them in the box that they belong in.
I can’t do this here.
Not now.
My plan is to get out of here as fast as possible, before Adrian arrives, preferably, and mentally prepare myself for being at the Phoenix Pride. I need to get through the night.
That’s it. An easy goal.
Just survive.
I’ve done it before.
“Is this all the luggage you’ve brought?” the captain asks, breaking through the fog of my fucked up night.
“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper.
He reaches for the suitcase, lifting it easily when I willingly let it go.
“Perfect. Let’s get you settled, then,” he says with a practiced smile.
This move to the Phoenix Pride might only be a trial in Atticus and Adrian’s minds, but for me, it’s my last chance.
I need this to work. I need it to work more than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life.
I have no doubt that Adrian is going to do his absolute best to have Atticus’s ear and try to keep me in line even from the compound. His reach is far, and Atticus made it clear in our first call how he feels about Adrian.
But if he’s that close to Adrian, then he’s likely to see me as just a placid little girl who is scared of her own shadow.
I might hate Adrian’s perspective of me, but if it means Atticus is going to undermine me, maybe I’ll get the upper hand.
“Okay,” I murmur, following the captain down into the lower levels of the boat.
It’s darker down here, luxurious, with a bitter scent of rich mahogany that makes my stomach churn. I wish I could blame it on motion sickness, but I know better.
“Open wide, Maeve,” a voice whispers.
I shiver, batting at my ear, before realising how stupid I’m being. The scent reminds me of my home, of the night , but I’m safe.
They’re not here. I’m safe.
He shows me to the lounge, and I thank him, my voice sounding distant and haughty, even to my own ears.
I move over to the bar, pouring a glass of water with shaky hands. The sleeping pills go down easily, and I pray that they work quickly. I can’t face this trip awake. Not when the ghosts of my past are already circling, already tormenting.
A sleeping Maeve is the best kind of Maeve—for everyone’s sake.
The master bedroom is just as dark and plush as the lounge. The bamboo sheets are soft pink—my favourite, though I’ve never told anyone that. Of course, Adrian would know. It’s a reminder of just how deeply he’s obsessed with my life. Annoying, but not surprising.
“Ugh,” I mutter, kicking off my shoes and crawling into bed. The thin blanket is so warm and comforting, and as I burrow underneath it, I let the pills pull me under.
I don’t want to be awake any more.
I don’t want to be living this kind of life.
Julian
“What the fuck is going on?” I demand, glaring at my uncle as I wretch his car door open. I got a frantic call from him a half hour ago that he was leaving a meeting to come and get me.
His snarky attitude on the phone was expected, considering he called me twice before I answered. But, now, as I stare at him, dishevelled and wild-eyed, I feel a knot of dread tightening in my gut.
Adrian Graves doesn’t panic. He doesn’t lose control like this. Not publicly. Outside of Aunt Helen, who I know is fine inside, the only person that can set him off this way is Maeve.
My beautiful, slightly traumatised mate who is in quite a bit of danger with her own personal stalker on the loose. A cold wave of fury floods through my veins.
It fucking killed me to let her shut me out once we finished work. It destroyed me leaving that house without knowing she was safe inside.
But I’m trying my fucking hardest to respect her boundaries and let her learn to trust me.
So, if that means I need to take care of her in secret, then that is what I will do.
“Maeve is leaving the compound today—now,” Adrian blurts out, his voice edged with something close to panic.
My eyes narrow, my heart thudding in my chest, as the wind whistles past my ears, almost drowning out the frantic whines of my unhinged pegasus.
“Why has the plan changed so suddenly?” I demand, the tightness in my voice betraying the anger boiling beneath the surface.
Breathe in, breathe out. You’re useless to Maeve if you can’t control yourself, Jules.
“Maeve’s… stalker has sent her another note,” Adrian says, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were permanent indentations from them.
There’s a tremor in his hands, a flicker of something in his eyes that I can’t quite place—fear? Guilt?
My pegasus roars and whines, kicking against the mental barrier I’ve erected between the two of us. I might be managing to stay calm, but the wild beast within doesn’t understand the meaning of the word.
Ever since we’ve moved here— ever since we’ve met Maeve —he’s been feral, uncontrollable—unleashed, even. It’s like he’s finally free from a cage I never once put him in.
I don’t understand it, and I’m barely managing to hold him back.
I’m terrified of the day I can’t keep hold of the reins.
“Is she hurt?” My tone is tight, barely controlled underneath my rage.
I should’ve been notified immediately when we were on the phone.
I should’ve been on her protection detail like I fucking asked.
It’s too easy to blame Adrian. It’s not my uncle’s fault. It’s mine.
I never fucking should’ve left her.
“No,” Adrian reassures me, and I nod, the barest bit of relief seeping in. But the relief is fleeting.
She might not be physically hurt, but I know this will have messed her up inside. She’ll be spiralling, losing herself, obsessing over his twisted words.
Those mental barriers of hers are ones she still can’t let go of, so I know she’s going to be struggling alone, on a long journey to a brand-new place.
It breaks my fucking soul.
“What did the note say?” I press.
“Can you get in the car?” he snaps, his usual control slipping as I continue to hover in the doorway of the car.
I flinch at the raw power in his voice, but I don’t hesitate to move. I slide into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut, just as he takes off.
His tires screech against the pavement, black skid marks on his drive—but what does he care? He’ll get someone else to clean it up, to not annoy my aunt.
“What did the note say?” I repeat, my tone colder, more insistent.
“He made a threat,” Adrian says through gritted teeth.
“No more deaths?” I ask, but he shakes his head. He gives me a wary look before taking a corner so sharply that I’m thrown against the door with a grunt.
Realisation hits me. “Who did he threaten?”
My patience is wearing thin with the lack of information shared by my uncle, and I know he’s doing this on purpose.
“You.”
“I can take the cowardly cunt,” I say with a vicious snarl backed up by my pegasus. But as he starts to kick and buck and fight for control; I’m forced to slam the mental barrier back into place.
He’s too violent, too out of control.
I’m not that man.
“I’m sure you can, son,” Adrian mutters, but I can see his shoulders relax just a fraction. “She’s leaving today.”
“Then where are we going?” I ask, recognising the area, but not fully understanding what’s happening.
“The docks.”
“Oh.” The realisation hits me like a punch to the gut. “She’s leaving leaving.”
A pang of hurt cuts through my anger, but I shove it down. This is what Maeve needs.
To be safe.
To survive .
If she’s out of Adrian’s direct control, then maybe— just maybe —she’ll start to heal some of the wounds he’s inflicted.
Some of the hurt so many people have caused her.
But my pegasus disagrees. He’s thrashing, furious that I’m letting her go. In his mind, it’s the biggest mistake I could ever make.
“There’s no choice,” Adrian says, letting out a frustrated breath. “He got into her fucking home. There were roses on her bench, dripping in blood. There was a fucking note on her kitchen counter.”
“How did he get inside without tripping her alarm?” The hairs on my arms stand up, goosebumps prickling my skin. “How the fuck did he make it inside without any of your people seeing him?”
“How the fuck is the question of the day,” Adrian says, not bothering to indicate as he slams us around another corner.
I’ve never been driven by my uncle before. I won’t be allowing him to do it again.
Even if I would survive a car crash.
I’ve never seen him like this—so out of control, so desperate. It’s unsettling.
“Is she…” I trail off, not wanting to voice the stupid question.
I just need to see her. To lay my eyes on her and reassure myself that she’s safe. That she is unharmed.
To let myself pretend even for a moment that the sneer and cold-expression are the truth and that she really is as unfazed by this as she’ll no doubt appear to be.
I want to be selfish. Just for a second.
“She sounded okay,” Adrian reassures me, his tone softening. “She was angry, understandably so. But I have no doubt she’ll be panicking.”
I’m so fucking angry at my uncle right now. Is this really the man who leads an entire fucking country of people? A man with a seat on the World Tribunal, holding one of the most powerful positions as the leader of one of the most powerful nations ?
His political game is good.
It’s something I used to admire.
But after seeing the way it makes him treat those he claims to care about—the way he’s treating the light of my fucking life—I can’t admire him anymore.
He’s a disgrace.
We make it to the docks in one piece, which is practically a miracle, but the timing wasn’t good enough. As we pull up to the platform, there’s one car with the enforcer who drove Maeve here inside, and the image of a boat already off the dock.
My heart tightens, my stomach clenching, as I shove the door open and jump out of the car.
She left me.
She left us .
A screech tears from my throat, a sound of pure anguish as I watch the boat drift farther from the dock. Adrian’s hand lands on my shoulder, trying to ground me, but it only makes the pain sharper, more real.
I fight the urge to shift, to soar into the air, and flee this prison alongside her.
She’s gone. My mate has left.
She didn’t say goodbye.
She didn’t care enough to warn me that she was going.
She just packed her things and left.
It kills me. It fucking destroys me.
Her home, her sanctuary, was invaded by some sick, fucking asshole, and she never once thought she could call me.
That she could come to me.
Because she can’t sense the bond, Jules.
I take a heaving breath, as the boat gets further and further away, and slowly calm myself down, trying to get back in a position of logic.
My pegasus roars and rages, his anger and pain no longer merging with my own.
I understand in a way that my shifter side cannot.
Our mate left because she’s unsafe.
Our mate left without telling us because she doesn’t like us.
Because she can’t feel the bond to us.
To me, Maeve Quinn is everything. She’s my soulmate, the reason for my existence, the very person to complete me.
But to her? I’m a man who lies, manipulates, and shares a surname with one of the most hated people in her life.
To her, I am nothing more than dangerous.
Someone who she can’t trust.
Someone who she can’t rely on.
For the past six years, minimum, my mate has lived in a world where nobody can be trusted, where nobody cares.
I want to be the one to change that narrative for her, but I’m not as naive as I come across. I can’t demolish six years worth of walls with a smile and good intentions.
I can’t.
Maeve deserves more than that.
“Go to her,” Adrian says suddenly, spinning me to face him. “You were meant to go with her, Julian. Protect her, where I cannot. Fly over to the boat, be there, and act as her guide in this new place.”
He’s practically begging me, and it’s enough to startle my pegasus out of his rage.
“That was never the plan,” I say, shaking my head, trying to keep my tone as submissive as possible. “I’ve got a job to do uncle, a job you assigned me.”
Adrian’s frown deepens, annoyance flaring in his steel blue eyes. “I should’ve stopped the boat, I should’ve?—”
“We need to trust her,” I say, holding up a hand to stop him. “You keep seeing Maeve as the naive, traumatised child that was brought in all those years ago.”
“How should I be seeing her?” he asks, the weariness in his voice almost breaking through the anger. It’s like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, and once again, I’m startled by his love for this woman.
He truly does care. Which only makes his actions that much more despicable.
“As a survivor,” I reply, standing taller as my pegasus begins to calm, feeding from my resolve. “Maeve isn’t weak, Uncle. She’s one of the strongest people I know. Let her have this freedom, this chance to figure out her life on her own terms, while we figure out who’s hunting her down.”
He sighs but turns and gets back in the car, his expression tight. I don’t follow, waving him off, as he drives away in a fury. The enforcer follows after him, much less recklessly, and I’m finally alone with my thoughts.
Maeve needs this. She needs her space, she needs this trip. My mate deserves the chance to figure out a life where she is the one in the driver’s seat, where she gets to be safe and happy and figure out what she wants to do.
She deserves the chance to heal, to move on from the trauma she’s suffered.
She deserves a second chance.
And I won’t ruin that for her. I know me following after her would be the worst decision I could ever make for our relationship. It would destroy our bond—forever.
I pull out my phone and dial the number I’ve been avoiding for far too long.
“Hello?” the voice answers.
“Hello, brother,” I reply, leaning against a tree, staring out at the ocean. It’s beautiful here, the salt air and the sound of waves crashing against the shore reminding me of home.
I hate that this place, so full of magic and peace, has been tainted for Maeve.
This compound is meant to be a refuge, a place where we can connect to lands so old and enriched with magic that we’re comfortable just being ourselves.
There’s no true risk to our kind here.
And yet, because of my uncle’s lack of support, Maeve has seen this as nothing more than a prison that she needs to flee from.
“What’s going on?” Hadrian snarls, his frustration evident, even over the phone. I don’t blame him; we haven’t spoken on the phone for over a year.
“I need a favour.” The words are heavy on my tongue.
It’s been even longer since I’ve actually seen him in person. But I knew he’d answer the phone, just like I know he’ll help me—help her.
Hadrian mutters something under his breath, too quiet for me to catch.
“Hades?” I prompt.
“Who wants the favour, Jules? You or them ?” he asks, his tone full of suspicion.
“You really think I’d be begging you for a favour for our parents?” I snap, anger filling me at the thought. Is that how low he thinks I’ve sunk?
His tone softens slightly. “What do you need?”
“You’re still close to the Phoenix Pride?”
“I’m staying there for a few more weeks, yeah. Why?” He sounds tired, distrustful, and it stings more than I care to admit.
“I’ve found my mate, and she’s on her way there.”
“Without you?”
I sigh. “There’s a lot of shit happening, Hades. I really, really need your help.”
“Tell me what you need,” he says, finally losing his hostility and sounding like the brother I knew. “I’m here for you, Jules. Just tell me what you need.”
And for the first time since Maeve left my sight after our shift, I finally, finally feel like I can breathe.