40. Maeve
40
MAEVE
“ Y ou ready?” the worker asks, and I nod. She leads the four of us into a massive room packed full of things just waiting to be smashed. It’s empty, except for us, but the sheer size of it is terrifyingly exciting.
“Why is it so big?” I ask as she closes the door behind us.
“Because we’re shifters, baby,” Lucifer says, waggling his brows at me.
I look over to Hadrian, who rolls his eyes. “Some of us shift into large forms and would want to try and destroy shit in that form, too.”
“Oh.” I look around, taking in the chaos. I don’t even know how to start.
“Remember the anger you were feeling?” Lucifer asks, and I nod my head as he strides forward, lifts his bat, and swings it into a computer screen. He shatters the screen and snaps the computer in two, bits of plastic flying.
“You just smash whatever your little, delicate self can handle,” Hadrian teases, his eyes lighting up in a kind of excitement that I’ve never seen from him before.
He moves to grab some kind of hammer thing. It’s metal and big and has ends. I really don’t know the terminology for half the weapons in this room.
It’s quite amusing that they barely did any checks on the people I brought with me. One of them could murder another—quite literally, if Draven’s provoked enough by Lucifer—or at the very least, really harm one.
And they didn’t even care.
It’s quite funny, really.
The room looks like the inside of my brain—chaos swirling, destruction waiting. It’s almost comforting in a weird way.
The rage room is loud—metal crunching, glass shattering, and the occasional whoop from Lucifer, who’s taking far too much joy in the destruction. I stand in the middle, bat in hand, staring at the chaos unfolding around me.
It’s supposed to help, right?
I’m supposed to let out my rage, my frustration, all the things bubbling under the surface.
But all I can feel is exhaustion.
I don’t know if this is truly going to help me, but it’s weirdly relaxing to watch the men have turns. Hadrian’s taking some serious rage out on a desk in the corner.
Lucifer swings something huge—a crowbar—at an enchanted safe, laughing wildly as his eyes go pitch black. Dark imp energy radiates off him in waves. It’s infectious, the way he throws himself into this.
I guarantee that despite only being in the pride for a few weeks, he’s got a lifetime membership to this place.
Draven, as usual, stands on the sidelines, watching us all with that brooding intensity he’s mastered so well. His arms are crossed over his chest, his scarred face unreadable, but I can feel his eyes on me.
Always watching. Always protecting.
I don’t think he’s truly going to let go and join in until I’ve taken a turn.
My eyes are drawn over to Hadrian.
He’s quieter than I expected, despite his obvious rage and excitement, his usual smugness is toned down. He’s been sneaking glances at me, too, ever since we got here. He knows about the therapy, and I’m not sure if that’s why he’s treating me like broken glass.
It’s unnerving, the way he’s not pushing my buttons like he usually does, but it’s also kind of nice after the day I’ve had.
I lift the bat in my hand, but I don’t swing it. Instead, I just... watch. The glass at my feet shatters when I tap it, but it only makes me flinch.
“What’s got you all bottled up today, Maeve?” Hadrian’s voice cuts through the noise, low and steady. It doesn’t have the usual bite to it, and that alone makes me pause.
I turn to him, arching a brow. “Are you really asking or just looking for a way to irritate me?”
“Maybe both.” He steps closer, not smirking like usual, just... watching me. “But you’re here, so you might as well get something off your chest.”
“You think smashing a few things is going to fix what’s going on in my head?” I snort, trying to ignore the tension in my gut.
“Maybe not.” He swings the pipe in his hand, the sharp sound of it cutting through the air. “But you won’t know until you give it a try, will you?”
There’s something off about his tone—concerned, almost. It makes me pause.
“I’ve been watching you these past weeks,” Hadrian says, quieter now.
We both take in Lucifer’s madness, his excitement, at getting to unleash the darker energy he harbours. He can let his violent flag fly high without risk of doing any true harm.
Even Draven has finally joined in, smashing things up in the corner. He’s much more subdued than Lucifer, but he’s still going at it with an eagerness I don’t think I can feel.
“Of course, you have.” I roll my eyes, trying to shake off the unease. “That’s literally your job.”
“You’re struggling, Maeve. You’re breaking.”
I narrow my eyes at him, not sure whether to be offended or relieved that he’s noticing something . I let my anger spark instead. “And, what, you think you know what’s going on with me? You think you understand it?”
He swings the pipe, the sound of it cutting through the air sends tingles down my spine, and not in a good way. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
I roll my eyes, turning away from him, but the knot in my stomach tightens. “I’m not broken, Hadrian.”
He shrugs as if he couldn’t care less. “It seems like you are.”
I scoff, my blood boiling as I look at the dark-haired prick. “Of fucking course you’d say that.”
He shrugs as if he’s got not a single care in the world, when in an instant, he’s managed to put the doubt back into me that Dr Abbott is working so hard to replace.
“Broken, meek, shameful ,” he says, each word digging that knife in deeper. “I’m watching you spiral, and it’s not a good look on you, sweetheart.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I hiss, my hands tightening on the bat.
Lucifer’s laughter breaks through the tension as he smashes the crowbar into the safe with a resounding clang.
“Come on, princess! This is supposed to be fun,” he yells, his voice so energetic and full of life. I don’t know if he’s aware of the bubbling rage I’m feeling towards his cousin or what, but he might have just saved Hadrian from a bat to the face.
“Break something,” Hadrian taunts. “Go on, I dare you.”
I lift the bat, swinging it towards him with all my strength. He steps back, laughing, his eyes crinkling with his humour.
Fucking asshole.
“Good job, sweetheart,” he says, his earlier bite gone. “But now, channel that into something else.”
“But don’t you understand that it’s your head I want to cave in?” I ask patronisingly.
“Trust me,” he pleads, and I turn and smash my bat into a vase. The ceramic shatters, flying around, and I let out a little squeal.
It’s mortifying.
It’s embarrassing.
It’s shameful .
But Hadrian comes to stand next to me, and with heavy breaths, I look into his eyes. In this moment, his gaze softens, his body relaxes, and I almost forget how much of a prick he was—how much of a prick he can be .
“I didn’t mean any of that, love,” he says, his voice quiet. With the noise in the room, it’s like this conversation is just for the two of us. “But you were so tight, you needed to tap into your rage to see what it’s like to let go.”
“You hurt me,” I say quietly, and he flinches, regret filling his features. “Don’t say that shit again.”
“You have my word.”
“I don’t trust your word much,” I say with a half-hearted shrug, my hurt still too profound to forget about. “But I appreciate the help. That felt pretty good.”
“Sometimes, the best thing to calm the chaos is to shatter it entirely.”
I swing harder this time. Glass shatters, echoing through the room. I hit again and again until my arms ache and my breath is ragged.
Hadrian moves next to me, taking his own swing at a pile of metal debris. It’s almost... calming, in a weird way. Having us stand side by side, attacking our demons.
The repetitive motions, the destruction surrounding me. For a moment, it feels like the noise in my head quiets down because the image in front of me represents it completely.
But it doesn’t last.
I pause, my chest heaving. “Do you ever feel like... you’re just one step away from losing it?”
Hadrian doesn’t hesitate. “All the time.”
His honesty surprises me, and I look over at him, truly seeing the differences between him and Julian. There’s no smugness in his face, no sarcasm.
He’s open, raw, almost vulnerable.
I blink in surprise.
He shrugs, swinging the crowbar again, as his cheeks tinge red. “We’ve all got our demons, Maeve. Some of us just hide them better than others.”
Lucifer throws another piece of metal across the room with a wild laugh, and for a second, I almost envy him. His chaos is out in the open, free, uncontrolled. Mine is buried, locked away, and it’s suffocating me.
“You’re not the only one struggling, Maeve,” Hadrian says quietly, his voice barely audible over the noise. “You’re allowed to lose it. You’re allowed to be messed up. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, despite what the world believes.”
I freeze, the bat slipping from my hands and clattering to the floor. The sound is too loud, my heart pounding, a flash of anxiety creeping over me.
“I’m not weak,” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. But even as I say it, the words feel hollow.
Aren’t I? Aren’t I in a vulnerable state, right now?
“You’re not weak, little angel,” Draven says, moving towards us. “But you do need help.”
“I’m not broken,” I utter, a ringing echoing through my ears.
Hadrian steps closer, his voice soft. “No one here thinks you’re broken, Maeve. But it’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to keep pretending that you are.”
My throat tightens, and for a brief moment, I want to scream. I want to swing the bat and smash everything in sight until the noise in my head stops.
But instead, I just stand there, my hands trembling, my legs weak.
Draven uncrosses his arms, his gaze never leaving me. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out their words, trying to keep the walls up. But the truth is, they’re right. And that terrifies me more than anything.
Lucifer’s laughter fills the room again, but it feels distant now, like background noise. The bat lies on the floor at my feet, untouched. I could pick it up. I could keep smashing, keep pretending. But I’m so tired. So, so tired.
“I’m not broken,” I whisper more to myself than anyone else.
Hadrian doesn’t reply. He just stands there, waiting, like he always does after every single taunt he throws my way.
Somehow, that’s worse. Because he’s not pushing. He’s not forcing. He’s just... there for me.
Lucifer’s wild energy crashes against the walls, but for the first time, I’m not pulled into it. I’m not swept away by the chaos. Instead, I’m standing in the eye of the storm, with Draven’s calm, Hadrian’s quiet understanding, and Lucifer’s wild laughter swirling around me.
All we’re missing is Julian’s determined positivity that everything will be okay.
For the first time, I can accept that maybe... I don’t need to go on this healing journey alone, after all.
“ D o you know how imps find their soul mates, pretty princess?” Lucifer asks. His eyes are their beautiful black as he takes a step towards me.
I steel my spine and shake my head. “No.”
He grins. “Imps are appealed to the darkness. To a chaotic soul. To someone who is flawed as a human.”
I snort.
Lucifer’s eyes seem to twinkle in the light. “We like pretty, blonde, messy princesses with a darkness in their soul that ignites our own.”
“I’m not dark.”
Now it’s him who snorts. “Oh, pretty princess, you most definitely are. You’re twisted, chaotic, and, oh, yes, so fucking twisted . Like appeals to like, after all.”
“And, what… it’s your job to fix me?”
He laughs properly now, a full, deep belly one that sends a shiver through me. “No, Maeve.” He steps closer, still out of reach. “The thing about us is we’re not broken. Flawed doesn’t mean in need of fixing.” He steps closer again. “Chaos doesn’t need controlled.” His final step puts him only two inches away, and the grin on his face is delightfully dark. “Darkness doesn’t need to be brought over to the light.”
“Then what do we do?” I whisper, my eyes locked on his own hypnotic gaze.
“We embrace the shadows, pretty princess. We let our darkness reign free… and we learn how to live .”
“I’ve been alive all this time,” I say with a roll of my eyes, the weird tingles I had been feeling disappearing.
He shakes his head. “No, baby, you haven’t . You’ve been existing. You’ve been letting the darkness drag you down… rather than ruling it.” He sighs. “You’re the queen of chaos, pretty princess, and you need to wear your crown.
“Let the darkness out. Embrace it. Embrace the life you weren’t born for but were made into. Chaos reigns free… because fate made it so.”
I look up at him, feeling so young, so vulnerable. “I don’t know how .”
“Then let me help you figure it out. Let me help you find your place in life, and let me watch as you make it your bitch.”
His eyes are so captivating. His joy almost infectious.
He’s so close, I could just reach out… I could touch him, I could feel his warmth, I’d be able to figure out if he’s telling the truth.
One small touch and our bond would flare to life, and I’d… I don’t know.
What would I do?
I slowly raise my hand, both Lucifer and I watching as I tentatively move it towards him. My heart is barely beating, my body radiating with tension, as the air grows thick.
Lucifer’s eyes are locked onto my hand, a nervous energy surrounding us both.
But then, there’s the sound of keys, and I drop my hand so fast it’s as if the very action burnt me.
“Maeve,” Lucifer starts, his voice low and husky.
The door opens, and Ari arrives home with Alvie. I drop my head as they murmur their greetings, and I can feel a small pit in my stomach growing.
Ari’s chatter is infectious, and she beckons us over to the table where she’s unpacking food from the takeout bags. I move over with Lucifer hot on my heels, and we’re silent as we help her unpack and dish out the foods.
I catch Lucifer’s eyes, and I think the expression on his face mirrors the one on my own. We’re devastated that our moment was interrupted.
I don’t know if I would’ve been brave enough to touch him.
I don’t even know if I’d have followed through with it.
I do know, however, that it’s going to plague me for days that I even considered it.