Chapter 21 Maeve
MAEVE
Maeve stared at the text for a full minute before responding.
She wanted to refuse. Wanted to tell him she'd said everything she needed to say this morning when she'd shoved him out of her apartment. But the word planning stuck in her mind like a burr.
What was Hector planning beyond the Council petition?
Her lioness paced, uneasy and agitated.
Fine. One hour. And this better be good.
She spent that hour pacing her apartment, drinking coffee she didn't need, and trying her best not to think about last night. About Dante's hands on her skin. About the way he'd gazed at her like she mattered more than breathing.
About how she'd walked away because wanting him that much terrified her worse than any fight.
When she finally descended to the Silver Fang, dusk had settled over Hollow Oak.
Snow fell in fat flakes past the windows, muffling sound and turning the world soft.
She unlocked the back door and found Dante already inside, sitting at a table near the cold fireplace with papers spread around him like evidence at a crime scene.
His knuckles were split and bruising. Blood had dried dark under his nails.
"You've been fighting," she said.
"I've been investigating." He stood, gesturing to the papers. "Come look at this."
She moved closer, keeping the table between them. Close enough to see but not close enough to touch. Her body remembered touching too well, still aching in places that made heat flood her cheeks.
"What am I looking at?" she asked.
"Proof." He pushed a stack of papers toward her. "Shipping manifests from your suppliers. Dates and times of every delivery for the past three months. Someone's been tracking your business operations down to the minute."
Maeve picked up the top sheet, scanning it. Her supplier from Tennessee. Dates matched her records exactly. Times she'd signed for deliveries. Notes about which employee had helped unload.
"Where did you get this?"
"Hector's rogues have a cabin in the mountains. I tracked them there and searched it." He tapped another stack. "Found these too. Forged Council documents. Fake petitions claiming other business owners support his takeover. Manufactured evidence to make you look isolated."
Her hands tightened on the paper. "He's been planning this for months."
"Longer." Dante spread out more documents. "This isn't just about the Silver Fang. He's using you as a test case. If he can prove female-led businesses fail, he gets grounds to challenge other establishments. Other Council decisions. He wants to roll back everything Hollow Oak's built."
Maeve sank into a chair, legs suddenly unsteady. She'd known Hector was manipulating the situation. Had suspected sabotage. But seeing it laid out like this, seeing the depth of his planning and the scope of his ambition, made her stomach turn.
"He wants to destroy the Council's balance," she said quietly.
"He wants power." Dante settled back into his chair, wincing slightly. "Wants to expand his pride's influence by proving traditional values work better than progressive policies. You're just the first target."
"Lucky me." She set the papers down, her mind racing. "Does Varric know?"
"Not yet. I photographed everything but haven't sent the evidence. Wanted you to see it first."
"Why?"
"Because this affects you more than anyone." His amber eyes held hers. "I'm done making decisions about your life without including you and you deserve to know what we're up against."
The admission settled into her chest, warm and uncomfortable. He was trusting her with information he'd kept secret.
"You broke protocol coming here first," she said.
"Yeah."
"Varric's going to be furious."
"Probably." He leaned back, shoulders relaxing slightly. "But some things matter more than following orders. You matter more."
Heat crept up her neck. She grabbed a stack of papers to avoid looking at him. "Don't make this about us."
"It's always been about us." His voice carried quiet conviction. "About me learning to choose right instead of choosing duty. About proving I've changed by trusting you to handle the truth."
"Pretty speech." But her hands shook slightly as she sorted through documents. "Doesn't change what happened this morning."
"No." He picked up a different paper, studying it. "But maybe working together to stop Hector will."
They fell into silence, both focused on evidence that proved conspiracy and fraud.
Maeve's anger built with each forged signature, each manufactured complaint.
Hector had spent months building a case designed to humiliate and destroy.
Had used her family name as a weapon against everything she'd built.
"We need to organize this," she said finally. "Separate the shipping manifests from the forged documents. Build a timeline that shows how long he's been planning this."
"Agreed." Dante stood, moving to the bar. "Coffee?"
"Please."
She watched him work, moving through her space with easy familiarity. He knew where she kept the good beans. Knew how she liked it brewed strong enough to strip paint. Small details he'd picked up over the past two weeks of lurking around her deliveries and annoying her into conversation.
He returned with two steaming mugs, setting one in front of her.
"Start with supplier information," she said. "We need to figure out when each shipment was compromised. That'll tell us when Hector's people had access."
Maeve never opened the tavern that day, dedicating her time to saving it. Plus, if Hector’s people saw it closed, maybe they would start thinking they won and she could blindside them.
Her and Dante worked for hours. Sorting papers.
Building timelines. Cross-referencing dates with her own records.
Dante fetched candles when the overhead lights felt too harsh, turning the empty tavern into something intimate and secretive.
Snow continued falling outside, piling against windows and muffling the world beyond their small circle of candlelight.
Maeve caught herself watching him. The way firelight played across his features. The concentration in his expression when he studied evidence. The careful way he handled papers like they mattered because they were connected to her.
"Here." He pushed a timeline across the table. "First sabotage happened three weeks after Hector became alpha of his pride. That's not coincidence."
"He waited until he had authority to file Council complaints." Maeve studied the dates. "Built his power base first, then started undermining mine."
"Smart." Dante's jaw tightened. "Bastard's been playing chess while everyone else played checkers."
"Not anymore." She grabbed a fresh sheet of paper, sketching out a strategy. "We take this to Varric tomorrow. Show him the forged documents and the supplier information. That kills Hector's Council petition and exposes his conspiracy."
"What about the rogues?"
"Emmett handles them. They're in Hollow Oak territory without permission. That's Council jurisdiction." She added notes to her sketch. "Varric can order them expelled, maybe arrested for trespassing and assault."
"Assault?" Dante's mouth curved. "You noticed my knuckles."
"Hard to miss." She glanced up, finding his eyes on her. Warm. Appreciative. Like he enjoyed watching her work. "You fought three lions alone I’m assuming based on the mix scents on you?"
"They started it."
"I'm sure they did." Despite everything, her mouth twitched. "Did you at least win?"
"I'm here. They're still in that cabin nursing broken ribs." He sipped his coffee, gaze never leaving her face. "I fight better when I'm protecting something that matters."
"Don't," she said quietly.
"Don't what?"
"Just don’t." She forced herself to meet his eyes. "We're working together to stop Hector. That's all this is."
"If you say so." But he smiled, small and knowing. "Though for the record, you're the one who keeps looking at me when you think I'm not paying attention."
Heat flooded her cheeks. "I'm not—"
"You are." He leaned forward, candlelight catching in his golden hair. "You looked three times in the last hour. Once when I was reading the supplier manifest. Once when I poured coffee. Once just now when you thought I was focused on timelines."
"Arrogant."
"Observant." His voice dropped lower. "And fair's fair. I've been watching you too. The way you bite your lip when you're thinking. The way your nose wrinkles when you find something that pisses you off. The way you move like you own every inch of space you're in."
"Stop." But her voice came out breathless instead of firm.
"Why?" He held her gaze. "We're being honest tonight. Might as well be honest about this too."
"There's nothing to be honest about."
"Liar." But he said it gently. "You want me. I want you. Last night proved that. This morning proved you're scared of it. And right now, working together in candlelight while snow falls, proves we're better as a team than we ever were apart."
She wanted to argue and rebuild the walls he kept scaling with words and patience and that insufferable confidence. But sitting here surrounded by evidence of Hector's conspiracy, working with Dante to build a defense that would protect everything she'd built, Maeve couldn't deny the truth.
They worked well together.
Fit together in ways that went beyond physical.
"We should finish this," she said, pulling another stack of papers closer. "Varric will want complete documentation."
"Maeve—"
"Please." She met his eyes. "Just let me work. Let me focus on something I can control."
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright. We work. But this conversation isn't finished."
"It never started."
"Keep telling yourself that, Cub." He grabbed a pen, marking dates on the timeline. "Doesn't make it true."
They fell back into rhythm. Sorting. Organizing. Building a case that would destroy Hector's plans. Coffee cooled and was refreshed. Candles burned low and were replaced. Snow piled higher against windows.
And through it all, Maeve felt him. Felt the warmth of his presence across the table. Felt his gaze when he thought she wasn't looking. Felt the mate connection humming between them like a living thing.
Felt herself wanting despite every reason not to.