Chapter 9 Hadrian #3
And the look on his face is dripping with disdain. He’s acting like we’re an inconvenience instead of the reason he still has a job.
If it weren’t for the work Jules and I are doing, he’d have likely been stabbed in the back months ago.
If I could go back… well, his death still wouldn’t have occurred soon enough to save my mate from the pain of him.
“Enough,” Maeve says.
Her voice is cracked glass, sharp and trembling, but it stops everyone cold.
Nobody wants to upset her. Least of all, me.
She swings her legs over the side of the bed, the click of her heels on the tile cutting through the air like a metronome of defiance.
Goosebumps crawl up my arms, and I don’t bother hiding my smug expression as Torin keeps his arms up, covering his face.
Lucifer has no issue with pinning the pantheral down—even with the cat being broader, stronger, and far more muscular.
Hm. It’s quite embarrassing for him.
Adrian’s gaze narrows on her, and something inside me snaps taut. My pegasus surges, all light and fury, begging to shield her from the world—from him.
Julian clutches onto me, his nails digging into my already bruised arm, as he tries to hold himself back.
Probably for the best since it’s not like he’s actually going to be able to do anything.
“Lucifer, get off him,” Maeve continues. She stands, her spine straight, her limbs trembling.
For a second, I swear she literally glows. Probably the horrific lighting. Maybe my imagination.
I doubt it, though. Maeve is purity in its truest form.
“He’s not worth your attention,” Maeve continues, her voice gaining strength by the word. I just wish it carried her usual snark. “And we’ve got to get out of this place before I catch some horrid disease.”
She glares at the bedsheets like they’ve personally offended her, then cuts her gaze to my uncle. “When are we leaving?”
Adrian rolls his shoulders back, a smooth politician smile sliding into place. “Now.”
He crosses to the wall panel, pressing the button for the comms speaker. When he starts barking orders into it, I scoff. His voice is all authority and false control.
But he knows nothing. He can do nothing.
My mate is in danger, yet again, due to his failure, and what can he offer? What will he do?
Fuck all.
I don’t look away from her.
She’s shaking—small tremors running through her slim frame—but she’d rather bite off her own tongue than let anyone notice.
That’s Maeve in a nutshell—bleeding quietly while daring the world to comment.
“Priority clearances for all Tribunal officials is a go,” Adrian says into the comm. “Yes, that includes me and my party. Override code—Hale Two Nine.”
Just like that, the red light dies, leaving behind only the humming fluorescent white that makes everything look worse. Cold, merciless… vulnerable.
Who would’ve thought I’d miss the blood red?
Oh, yeah, me.
At least the red made sense. It looked like danger. This white makes it seem like we’re hiding from it.
Lucifer mutters something under his breath—probably a snide comment about the irony of Tribunal priority passes—but one sharp look from Maeve has him miming zipping his mouth shut.
Small mercies.
Adrian turns to face us, that calm bureaucratic mask firmly in place. The kind of calm that makes me want to cave his jaw in just to see if it cracks like everyone else’s.
To see if he bleeds just like everyone else does.
“We’re going to be escorted out,” he says smoothly. “We’ll leave together, safely and quietly.”
His face flashes dark for a second before being covered once more. “I don’t need to warn you what will happen if this news leaks.”
“You probably should give some of us a reminder,” Luc taunts, folding his arms as he tips his chin up, daring my uncle to try him.
Torin cuts him a look sharp enough to slice skin. “Don’t be stupid, imp. You open your mouth to anyone, and you’ll end up in a ditch with your name neatly engraved above it.”
Kiaan stands, slow and deliberate, eyes flicking from Maeve to the door like he’s trying to read the room. “We’re all leaving together, then?”
Didn’t he hear my uncle’s grand speech?
Am I really the only one capable of listening around here?
“Yes,” Adrian repeats, voice clipped. “You’ll all remain on the compound—within my jurisdiction—until Garrison is found.”
Julian starts to speak, but Adrian’s hand comes up, quick and cutting. “No questions. Not here.”
Lucifer snorts, looking up at the cameras with their flashing red dot. “You mean not on record.”
Adrian doesn’t even flinch. “Precisely.”
Two guards appear at the door—visors down, faceless shadows—and for a second, the air feels heavier again.
My uncle gestures for them to lead us away, and, of course, he strides out first, Torin flanking him like some overgrown guard dog.
Julian sticks close to the wall, every movement slow and careful, as he tries to not agitate his wounds. I keep just behind him, ready to grab him if his stupid ass collapses.
Maybe this time, I’ll let him hit the floor before helping.
Maeve is planted between my brother and I, but further to the right, keeping too much distance between us.
If it were up to me, she’d be glued to my side, not an inch of space separating our bodies.
Lucifer and Kiaan take the rear, matching steps like they’ve synced up on purpose.
The two of them have bonded, which is weird, considering how unlikeable they both are.
Then again, they’re magnets of two different kinds of crazy—it makes sense.
As we walk, Maeve’s gaze flicks to me. It’s brief but grounding, and she gains some colouring in her cheeks from the connection.
A tiny thread pulling her back from whatever pit she’d fallen into.
When we stop at the next checkpoint, Adrian turns, eyes only for my mate.
“Are you okay?” he asks her, the concern in his voice sounding about as real as Torin’s charm.
Her voice, when it comes, is flat. No more ice queen, no more commands.
She’s just… empty.
“I want to go home.”
Adrian smiles like it’s a perfectly normal request. “Of course. Helen’s preparing your room—you’ll stay with me until things are under control.”
Lucifer scoffs, no humour in the sound. “Hard pass.”
Maeve’s expression doesn’t change. Not a blink nor a breath escapes her.
“I said home,” she repeats, slower this time, like she’s explaining something simple to a particularly dense child. “My home. Unless you’ve taken my name off the lease in the time I’ve been gone.”
The energy in the hall shifts. Even the guards hesitate before moving us forward.
Adrian’s jaw tightens, but his voice stays soft, all false diplomacy. “No one’s touched your property, Maeve.”
“Good.” Her voice wavers—barely—but it’s there. “Then that’s where I’ll be.”
“I’ll send someone to check on you tomorrow,” Adrian offers, and the way he says it sounds less like care and more like control.
“I’ll be getting the locks changed tonight,” she warns, not even looking at him.
Lucifer’s grin flashes like a knife. “Don’t worry, pretty princess, that’s a skill in my wheelhouse.”
Torin hisses, low and sharp, sending a shiver down my spine. “Of course, it is.”
Adrian’s smile freezes. “Let’s move.”
The guards usher us forward, and the door hisses open. Cold air rushes in—chemical, sharp, clean in a way that burns.
We step into it together, the silence chilling, the sirens a deadly omen.
The night hits hard when we step outside.
Cold air slices through the heat of the compound, and the world smells like metal, ozone, and rain waiting to fall.
The alarms are still pulsing faintly in the distance, muffled by concrete and the hum of power lines.
Thank fuck.
My head is pounding thanks to that shit.
Adrian waves off the guards with a flick of his wrist. “We’ll take it from here.”
Of course, he will. King of nothing pretending it’s a throne.
We cross the car park, and it’s not until we reach Torin’s vehicle that we make any sound.
And by we, I most certainly mean me.
Because of fucking course my uncle is this fucking obscene.
Even in a crisis, he’s entitled.
Beside the minivan sits a sleek black car—freshly washed, gleaming like it’s never seen a day of chaos in its life.
Naturally, my uncle’s ride looks showroom ready in the middle of a lockdown.
Entitled cunt.
I wish this escaped judge would’ve taken the time to smash it up before doing a runner.
Would’ve made me far happier.
“Of course, you had your personal car dropped off during a literal crisis,” I mutter, staring at my uncle. “Imagine the horror of driving in a minivan.”
Adrian ignores me. “Kiaan, take me back to my office.”
Kiaan nods, quiet and obedient for once. Quite embarrassing how easily he’s fallen into line.
“Torin,” Adrian continues, gesturing to the pantheral, “get my family home. Make sure they’re secured.”
Lucifer and Maeve make identical gagging noises, and I can’t stop the laugh that bursts out.
“‘Family,’” Luc echoes, his voice dripping with mockery. “That what we’re calling your PR disasters now?”
Technically, my uncle is not wrong. We are his family. But Luc is a part he’d rather the world forgot existed, and I’m only good enough to talk to in the shadows.
But, hey, at least Maeve and Julian are perfect. Even if the former would never be allowed to speak, as she’d happily tell the world how cruel he is.
And it’s not like Adrian cares about familial ties when it comes to Julian’s abdomen.
He had no issue cutting my twin open like a damn lab project earlier.
Cheeky fucking prick.
Maeve doesn’t say anything, but when the wind gusts through the car park, it lifts the strands of blonde hair from her bun and pushes them across her face.
For the first time since she woke, she smiles—small, tired, but real.
It feels like a sunrise in a graveyard… the hope after death.
I think I need to stop watching these soft fucking movies with Lucifer.
“See you tomorrow,” Adrian says, and I’m not the only one who feels the threat in his words.
With that omen hanging over our heads, we pile into Torin’s SUV without another word to him.