Chapter 15 Draven #4
Her wardrobe is emptied. Every scrap of clothing shredded, thrown across the room carelessly. Some bits are soaked in blood, some simply torn into confetti.
Every drawer is cracked. The mirror smashed into tiny pieces. Claw marks and streaks of red paint the walls.
This fucker has done this to send a message. Not a single part of her bedroom escaped his dramatics.
The scent is wrong, though, the more I have to breathe it in. Strangely layered in a way I can’t decipher.
I wish I had a better nose. I’m not scent-based, not the most adept at figuring them out.
We need—fuck!
I grab Torin’s shirt without warning. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch as I pull him towards me.
“Woah, Daddy, calm,” Lucifer says, getting in the middle of us.
I don’t drop Torin’s shirt, and the pantheral doesn’t try to release himself. The fact that Lucifer tried to get in the middle is almost amusing—almost.
His eyes flick to Maeve, checking her reaction, and I exhale through my nose, forcing myself to step back. I can’t add to her panic.
Not right now.
“What can you smell?” I demand.
Torin tilts his head, nostrils flaring. “The blood. It’s canine, wolf-ish… but it’s wrong. Off somehow.”
He crouches down beside the ruined bed, dragging his nose along the mattress.
“There’s two scents mingled in it,” Torin murmurs. “And he’s in pain.”
“Wouldn’t you be with this kind of blood loss?” I ask, gesturing to the room. There’s got to be a decent amount used.
He shakes his head. “Not that kind of pain. I’d bet that this blood wasn’t taken willingly.”
What the fuck?
“These claw marks are definitely from a wolf,” Hades calls.
I turn towards him to see where he’s looking. He’s close to the window, looking at the deep gouges slashed through the wall.
They’re thick and violent. Too thick to be from anything other than a fully shifted wolf.
The bastard shifted here.
In my mate’s room.
I breathe through my nose, barely holding onto my rage.
“Guys,” Julian murmurs. “I…”
“Spit it out, Cuz,” Lucifer commands.
Julian looks at Maeve, who is still kneeling on the floor, trembling in place, and inhales sharply.
I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. He stays silent, his face contorted.
Instead, Lucifer and Hadrian let out harsh hisses before the latter strides over to Maeve.
“I need you to do me a favour, little starlet,” he murmurs.
I’m seething.
I fucking hate being the last one to understand what’s happening.
They’re talking mentally along their shitty family connection and keeping secrets from us.
But more than that, I fucking hate the way she looks at him like he hung the moon, when I could never be worthy of that.
He’s worthy of her.
Blood-stained, tainted, and yet, so clearly hers.
“If we can get a sample of this,” Torin says, “we should be able to get it tested.”
“I know people who can help with that.” Lucifer claps his cousin on the shoulder. “Jules—breathe. Then go downstairs and see what Maeve has that we can use to collect some of this blood.”
He nods, turning away from the group to compose himself.
“What… what do you need?” Maeve asks. Her voice trembles, but her face goes cold.
I don’t like that she’s putting the mask back on. She felt safe enough to be vulnerable, to let us help.
She didn’t need to rush in and do this on her own, and she knew that.
But now she’s closing off. Locking it away.
And I fucking hate it.
“I need you to stand up so we can move you out of here,” Hadrian says softly. “We’re going to have to call this one in.”
My growl claws its way up my throat.
I swallow it.
She doesn’t need me causing extra issues right now.
No matter how badly I want to. I hate Adrian Graves and want to tear him apart limb by fucking limb.
I want him dead.
I hate the weak and pathetic attempts at protection that they’ve offered her.
I hate this fucking compound and every failure they’ve bestowed upon my mate.
At least back at Phoenix Pride, she wasn’t stuck here bleeding fear in her own fucking home.
Back there, her home wasn’t invaded. Sure—it was delivered to her doorstep, and that’s a big enough breach, but whoever it is never got inside.
This is the kind of violation people die for. We just need to figure out the who.
My ursarix roars, slamming against my skull. My mental block barely holds back the weight of his fury.
“He’s going to make us stay with him tonight,” she mutters.
I watch every movement as she wipes her eyes and stands. A perfect image of composure.
I hate it.
She’s so fucking graceful, even in heels that should snap her ankles.
So determined to pretend she’s fine. To pretend this isn’t bothering her.
It infuriates me.
Fear doesn’t make her weak. But my angel thinks she has to appear strong so nobody looks beneath the surface.
I’m furious at how she has to pretend to be okay, though.
How she needs to pretend that all of this isn’t bothering her so that nobody can sense a weakness.
“This isn’t okay,” I say, voice low and furious. “You don’t need to pretend, angel.”
She gives me a tense smile, and there’s a soft expression in her eyes that she never gives the others.
“I know, but at least I got to fall apart for a minute this time,” she whispers. “Usually, I’m alone and don’t even get that.”
A rumble tears out of my chest, and her smile widens.
“Calm down, big bear, I’m fine,” she teases.
Her eyes cut to whatever Torin’s doing, and she scoots past Hadrian to get closer.
Lucifer and I step out of the way without hesitation, giving her space so she doesn’t accidentally touch us.
Her frown deepens, but I don’t know what she’s upset about.
“What the fuck?” she demands quietly. “He’s… oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“What is it?” Torin asks dryly. “Did he ruin only the expensive clothes?”
“No, he ruined it all. Well… except for my underwear, which is missing,” she says.
Lucifer grimaces, and I now know that he had already pieced this together. Is this what Julian noticed?
I take back my anger. They were smart to not share that with me while I was still so unstable.
And you’re not now, my ursarix mocks.
“You’ve got a stalker, pretty princess. I’m not surprised he’s a dirty creep,” Luc says. He sounds calm, but I can feel his murderous rage like it’s a mirror of my own. “Trust me, as soon as we find the cunt, I’ll dismember him bit by bit and let him choke on the stolen underwear.”
“Wait, no,” Hades snarls.
“Yes, definitely not,” Maeve adds instantly. “I’m pretty sure that would be some kind of twisted reward for him.”
Torin rolls his eyes, turning around to face Maeve properly. “I’m going to make the call to Adrian now. Hide anything else you don’t want him to see. When he gets here, he’ll notice everything.”
“How about you don’t tell us what to do and just do your boss’s bidding like a good little pussy cat?” Lucifer says, waving him off.
Torin sneers but leaves the room, giving us a brief moment alone. I have no doubt he’ll be listening from the hall, but the others don’t care.
They just wanted him gone.
“I don’t like that my uncle will have a sample of this fuck’s blood,” Lucifer mutters.
Hadrian nods tightly. We’re all angry about that.
“We’ve got some as well,” I reassure them. “Get a few scraps of the clothing, too, just in case. Maeve… is there anything in here you might…”
I trail off, not sure how to even ask that question. Everything in here is damaged goods now.
She’s been violated.
Her belongings stolen from her.
Why the fuck would she want any of it?
“Not in here, no,” she says gently. “I brought everything of importance with me when I first left. But… thank you.”
“Then let’s get out of here before I do further damage,” I say, turning towards the door.
Julian crashes into me in the hall. I grimace at the light pegasus and shove past.
I don’t trust him much.
But, for now, he’s here to stay.
The others file out one by one, voices low, the air thick with fear and fury.
Maeve lingers, staring back at the ruins of her room. She’s lost in her memories, and I can’t walk away.
I don’t know how to help. How to soothe.
This place was the last thing tying her to this compound, and now he’s taken that, too.
How much more does my angel have to give up before something will get done?
My ursarix rakes claws against my ribs, his silent demands echoing my own needs.
Fix it. Protect her. Take her away.
I wish I could.
I wish I was enough.
But all I can do is follow her down the stairs and make sure she doesn’t fall. Make sure she breathes.
Make sure the next scream she lets out isn’t because we weren’t fast enough.
Whoever stepped into her room, whoever bled all over her bed and stole what belongs to her is going to regret the day he set his sights on her.
He picked the wrong room. The wrong bed. The wrong fucking woman.
I’ll find him.
And when I do, I’ll make sure Maeve never has to fear sleeping again.
Even if she never chooses me, even if she never wants me near her, I’ll tear this world apart until she’s safe.
My angel.
My mate.
She’s not spending one second unprotected on this fucking compound. Not while I’m still breathing.