Chapter 31 Maeve
MAEVE
The smell of fresh paint and pine cleaner had replaced the stench of destruction.
Maeve stood in the Silver Fang, watching Twyla hang garland above the bar while Cora directed Callum on proper chair placement. A week had passed since the attack, seven days of healing and cleaning and quietly rebuilding what the rogues had tried to break.
Seven days of Dante keeping his distance while somehow always being exactly where she needed him.
"That's the third time you've rearranged those glasses." Freya's voice carried from where she sat at a corner table while she sorted through donation receipts. "Something on your mind?"
"Just making sure everything's perfect for reopening tonight." Maeve set down the glass she'd been holding, realized she'd been staring at Dante's broad back as he repaired the damaged doorframe. Again.
Freya's knowing smile didn't help.
"The Council approved your reopening petition this morning." Kieran appeared carrying a box of new glassware, his hazel eyes warm despite their usual intensity. "Varric pushed it through. Something about 'holiday spirit and obvious persecution.'"
"They still won't admit the rogues work for Hector though." Maeve's jaw tightened. "Convenient."
"The rogues aren't talking, and Hector's made sure he has alibis for every incident." Dante straightened from his work, wiping sawdust from his hands. His amber eyes found hers across the room. "But we know the truth. That's what matters."
"What matters is that he's still walking free." She moved behind the bar, needing something to do with her hands. "Planning whatever comes next while we pretend everything's fine."
"About that." Callum set down the chair he'd been positioning, his expression serious. "We need to talk. All of us."
Twenty minutes later, Maeve sat at her private back table with the inner circle gathered close. Dante had spread out copies of the maps and plans they'd found in the rogue hideout, his voice low as he walked them through what they'd discovered.
"Hector's not just targeting you, Maeve." Dante's finger traced the marked locations on the map. "He's targeting the entire Council structure. Look at these notes. Guard rotations, Council member homes, even supply chain routes for the town's winter stores."
"He wants to destabilize all of Hollow Oak." Moira's soft voice held an edge as she studied the documents, her mahogany curls falling forward. "Make it look like the progressive Council can't maintain order."
"Exactly." Dante leaned back, his jaw tight. "The rogues attacking your tavern was personal, yes. But it was also a test. Could the Council protect one of their own? They suspended your license first, remember. Hector's counting on that division."
"So when he attacks during the Solstice..." Maeve's mind raced ahead, seeing the strategy with brutal clarity.
"He proves the Council is weak." Lucien finished, his green eyes cold with understanding. "Families will be vulnerable, children present, the town gathered in one place celebrating while leadership fails to prevent the assault."
"The older prides, the traditional ones, they're already questioning Varric's methods." Callum's hands clenched on the table. "Hector presents himself as the solution. Strong leadership. Traditional values. A return to the old ways where lions ruled and everyone else followed."
"He thinks he can take over the Council." Maeve couldn’t help but scoff.
"Not just the Council." Dante's gaze held hers, steady and sure.
"He thinks he can take over Hollow Oak. Remake it in his image.
And he'll use your supposed failure, the Cross line's supposed weakness, as proof that female alphas can't hold territory. Then, once that’s done, more will follow other things he undermines. "
Silence fell heavy over the table.
"Over my dead body." Maeve's voice came out quiet, lethal.
"That's what he's counting on." Dante said softly. "You fighting alone. You falling. But that's not going to happen, because you're not alone."
Something in her chest shifted at those words, at the absolute certainty in his tone.
"We have a plan." Emmett spoke up from his position near the door. "Wards, patrols, positioned fighters. He won't catch us unprepared."
"Good." Maeve straightened, her lioness settling with grim satisfaction. "Then let's make sure he regrets ever stepping foot in my town."
The meeting dispersed slowly, people returning to their tasks with renewed purpose. Maeve found herself alone with Dante as he gathered up the maps, his movements efficient and controlled.
"You should have told me sooner." She kept her voice level, not accusing, just stating fact.
"You were healing." He didn't look up from organizing the papers. "And you needed to focus on reopening the tavern, not on planning for war."
"I can do both."
"I know you can." He finally met her gaze, something soft in those amber eyes. "But you shouldn't have to. Not all the time."
She narrowed her eyes as if trying to see if there was a lie to see through. There didn’t seem to be.
"You've been different this week." She leaned against the table, studying him. "Quieter. Letting me handle things."
"You needed space to figure out what you wanted." His slight smile held no smugness, just patient understanding. "I'm not going anywhere, Maeve. Whether you decide I'm worth the risk or not, I'm staying. Hollow Oak's my home now too."
Her throat tightened unexpectedly. "Just like that?"
"Just like that." He tucked the last map away, then straightened to his full height. "I'm not the same lion who left ten years ago. I don't need to prove I'm alpha by dominating everyone around me. I just need to stand beside the people I care about when they need me."
"And when they don't need you?"
"Then I stand beside them anyway." His grin turned slightly wicked. "Stubborn like that."
Despite herself, she laughed. "You're impossible."
"You're difficult." He moved past her toward the door, but paused. "For what it's worth, watching you fight last week? That's when I knew for certain."
"Knew what?"
"That you're exactly the lioness I always hoped existed. Strong enough to stand alone, brave enough to let someone stand with you when it matters." He held her gaze for one more heartbeat. "I'll be out front if you need me. Door's almost fixed."
Thankfully he left before he noticed she had no smart ass thing to say back.
By evening, the Silver Fang glowed with warm light and bustling energy.
Maeve poured drinks, exchanged banter with regulars, and felt herself ease back to almost a warm comfort with every laugh that filled her tavern. The repairs were obvious if you looked closely, mismatched wood here, new glass there, but the heart of the place remained unchanged.
"First round's on the house," she announced to the packed room. "Consider it a thank you for helping put this place back together."
The cheer that erupted made her smile despite everything weighing on her mind.
Dante worked the other end of the bar, his movements surprisingly competent as he filled orders and deflected questions about how long he was staying.
She caught him watching her several times throughout the night, but he never approached, never crowded, just remained steadily present in that way he'd perfected over the past week.
Letting her come to him. Letting her choose.
"He's good for you, you know." Twyla appeared at her elbow, refilling the garnish tray with practiced ease. "Don't give me that look. I know when something's different."
"Nothing's different." Maeve grabbed two bottles of whiskey, already knowing which regulars would order next.
"Everything's different. And you're terrified because you want something more than independence."
"I want my tavern safe. My town safe."
"You want him." Twyla's smile held no judgment. "And the beautiful part, darling girl, is that he wants you to want him. Not because fate demands it, but because you choose it. Which makes it even sexier if you ask me."
Maeve opened her mouth to argue, but Twyla smirked and drifted away to greet new arrivals.
Across the room, Dante laughed at something Kieran said, the sound rich and genuine. His golden hair caught the firelight, his strong hands steady as he passed drinks to waiting customers. He'd rolled his sleeves to his elbows, revealing forearms corded with muscle and marked with old scars.
He looked like he belonged here. In her space. In her life.
She had been terrified of it since he had arrived, the shift toward acceptance allowed her to feel how at peace it felt to acknowledge that truth.
"Two whiskeys, neat." A regular appeared at the bar, jolting her from her thoughts. "And whatever that lion's having. His drinks are on me tonight."
"Yeah?" Maeve raised an eyebrow.
"He helped my kid fix her bike this morning. Didn't have to, but he stopped and spent an hour teaching her how to adjust the chain properly." The wolf shifter smiled. "Good male. You should keep him around."
"I'll take it under consideration." But she poured the drinks with extra care, her lioness purring approval.
The night stretched on, warm and full and exactly what the Silver Fang was meant to be. A place of community. Of belonging. Of second chances for those brave enough to take them.
When the last customer finally left near midnight, Maeve found Dante wiping down tables while she counted the register.
"I appreciate what you’re doing, for not pushing anything.”
He set aside the cloth, meeting her gaze across the empty tavern.
"This is what partnership looks like, Cub. I fight beside you, not for you. I stand with you, not in front of you. But on your terms, of course.” Then he slid his soft signature grin in that he just couldn’t help.
"But something tells me you're closer than you think. "
He was right, damn him. She was closer. Close enough that the space between them felt like a challenge instead of a comfort and her lioness demanded she close it.
But not tonight. Tonight she needed to sit with the feeling, let it settle, make sure it was real and lasting and hers.
"Go home, Dante." She softened the words with a slight smile. "We've got a busy few weeks ahead."
"Yes ma'am." His answering grin held heat and promise. "Sweet dreams, Maeve."
After he left, she locked up and climbed to her apartment above the tavern, her shoulder only aching slightly now. Through her window, she could see snow beginning to fall over Hollow Oak's sleeping streets.
And she did dream. Of a smart ass lion who made hers more than purr with attraction.