Chapter 35 Maeve
MAEVE
The town square glowed like something out of a winter fairy tale.
Maeve stood at the edge of the Solstice Gathering, watching lanterns bob on their strings overhead, casting pools of golden light across fresh snow.
The air smelled of pine and cinnamon, wood smoke and Freya's famous spiced cider that simmered in huge copper pots near the Griddle and Grind.
Children darted between adults, shrieking with laughter as they chased enchanted fireflies that Moira had released earlier, the magical insects glowing blue and gold in the twilight.
It should have been perfect.
But she felt restless. On edge.
"You're doing it again." Dante appeared at her elbow, pressing a warm cup of cider into her hands. "Scanning for threats instead of enjoying the party."
"Can't help it." She sipped the cider, the spices warming her throat but doing nothing to ease the tension coiled in her shoulders. "Something feels off."
"I know." His hand found the small of her back, steady and grounding. "Emmett's got patrols running the perimeter. Ryker's positioned near the Council Glade entrance. Kieran and Lucien are watching the tree line."
"And Hector?" She faced him fully, keeping her voice low. "Any sign?"
"Nothing." Dante's jaw tightened. "That's what worries me."
It worried her too. The rogue lions they'd captured hadn't talked, but everyone knew Hector had orchestrated everything.
The vandalism. The Council manipulation.
The systematic attacks designed to undermine her authority and destabilize Hollow Oak's leadership.
All of it pointed to tonight, to the Solstice Gathering when families came together and guards relaxed into celebration.
So where the hell was he?
"Maeve!" Cora waved from across the square, her pale blonde hair adorned with small braided flowers as she stood beside Callum near one of the fire pits. "Come try the roasted chestnuts before Callum eats them all!"
Maeve forced a smile, waving back. She felt Dante's silent encouragement, his confidence in her ability to balance vigilance with normalcy.
"Go." He squeezed her hand. "I'll keep watch. You should be visible, celebrating with your people. Show them their lioness isn't afraid."
"I'm not afraid." She met his gaze. "I'm prepared."
"I know." He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "That's why you're terrifying."
Despite everything, she smiled. The mate mark on her collarbone thrummed with warmth, just as it had the past so many days.
She moved through the crowd, stopping to greet families, accept hugs from regulars at the Silver Fang, and admire children's new winter coats.
The town had turned out in force, shifters and witches and fae mingling freely beneath the Veil's protective shimmer.
This was worth protecting. These people, this community, this pocket of sanctuary where magic lived openly and differences meant strength instead of division.
"Maeve, darling!" Twyla materialized with two young fae children clinging to her skirts, their wheat-colored hair marking them as distant cousins. "Tell Miles that the fireflies won't bite. He's being dramatic."
"They're made of magic," Maeve crouched to the boy's level, keeping her voice serious. "They can't bite because they don't have mouths. Just light and wishes."
The child's eyes widened. "Wishes?"
"If you're very gentle, you can whisper a wish to one." She held out her palm, and one of the glowing insects landed obligingly. "See? Perfectly safe."
Miles reached out with careful fingers, his face transforming into wonder when the firefly crawled onto his hand. "It tickles!"
"That's the magic saying hello." She stood as he ran off to show his sister.
"You're good with them," the fae woman said quietly. "Children trust you. That matters."
"Trying to tell me something?" Maeve raised an eyebrow.
"Only that our future is looking brighter all the time." Twyla's gaze tracked to where Dante stood speaking with Emmett, his profile sharp against the lantern light. "Present and future both."
Before Maeve could respond, Freya appeared carrying a tray of fresh cider cups, her copper-auburn hair cascading over one shoulder of her thick sweater.
"Here." Freya pressed a cup into Maeve's hands. "Extra cinnamon, just how you like it. And before you ask, yes, I double-checked all the wards. They're holding perfectly."
"Thank you." Maeve squeezed her friend's arm. "For everything."
"That's what family does." Freya's green eyes sparkled with genuine affection. "Besides, after you defended my apothecary during the blight, I owe you about seventeen lifetimes of cider."
"I'll collect eventually." Maeve's smile felt more natural now, the crowd's energy seeping into her bones despite her vigilance.
Music started near the gazebo, where someone had set up instruments. A fiddle joined by a guitar, the melody lifting sweet and clear into the winter air. Couples began dancing, their movements casting long shadows across the snow.
"Dance with me." Dante reappeared, offering his hand with that devastating smile. "Before you patrol again."
"I wasn't going to patrol."
"You were absolutely going to patrol." He tugged her toward the makeshift dance floor. "Five more minutes won't hurt. Let them see you happy, Maeve. Let them see their lioness celebrating."
He had a point. She let him pull her into the flow of dancers, his hand settling at her waist while hers found his shoulder. They moved together easily, the bond making their steps synchronize without thought.
"Remember the Harvest Festival?" he murmured against her ear. "When we were barely old enough to shift?"
"You stepped on my foot." She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. "Three times."
"I was nervous." His grin turned boyish. "You were so beautiful it made me stupid."
"Was?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Are." He spun her, pulling her back close. "Currently. Presently. In this exact moment making me forget why dancing in public is a terrible strategic position."
She could feel his awareness never fully leaving the perimeter, the same way hers tracked exits and potential threats even as she relaxed into his arms. Two alphas learning to balance protection with presence.
The song shifted to something slower, and more couples joined the dance floor.
Maeve caught sight of Callum twirling Cora with exaggerated flourish, earning her delighted laughter.
Emmett swayed with Katniss near the edge, her head tucked against his shoulder.
Even Lucien had been dragged from his usual shadows by Moira, the panther shifter's expression caught between resignation and contentment.
Hollow Oak at peace. Her town, her people, her responsibility.
And now she had someone standing with her, sharing the burden, offering strength when hers faltered.
"I love you," she said quietly, just for him.
Dante's eyes flashed gold, his lion rising to meet hers. "I love you too, Cub."
They danced through two more songs before Maeve's instincts finally overrode her desire to stay. She pulled back slightly, her gaze sweeping the square with new urgency.
"What is it?" Dante's hand tightened at her waist.
"I don't know." She scanned the crowd, the tree line, the shadowed alleys between buildings. "But something's wrong."
She sensed his instant alertness, his lion snapping to attention. He didn't question her instinct, just moved with her to the edge of the dance floor where they had better vantage.
The children still played. The music still soared. Lanterns bobbed overhead like captured stars. But underneath the celebration, Maeve felt wrongness building like pressure before a storm.
"Hector's too quiet," she said. "The rogues confessed nothing. He has alibis for everything. He's letting us think we won."
"Which means he hasn't played his real hand yet." Dante's voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Maeve, if he's not here—"
"Then where is he?" She met his gaze, seeing her own realization reflected in his eyes.
A scream cut through the music.
Not here in the square, but distant. From somewhere beyond the town's edge where the Veil thinned and gave way to wilderness.
Every shifter in the gathering went still, heads turning toward the sound. The music faltered and died. Children pressed against their parents, the enchanted fireflies dimming with the sudden shift in energy.
Maeve's lioness roared to the surface, every protective instinct firing at once.
"That came from the eastern border." Emmett appeared at her side, Katniss already pulling out her phone to coordinate. "Near the old mill."
"Decoy." Dante's hand found hers, squeezing once. "Has to be. Draw our forces away from the square."
"Or it's real and people need help." Maeve's mind raced through options, scenarios, risks. "We can't ignore it."
"We won't." Callum pushed through the crowd, Cora at his heels. "Emmett, Ryker, and I will check the mill. Dante stays here with Maeve and the majority of our fighters."
"Callum—" Maeve started.
"Trust me." Her cousin's blue eyes held steady. "Protect the families. That's always been your gift. Let us handle the unknown."
Another scream echoed, closer this time.
Maeve's heart hammered against her ribs as Emmett, Callum vanished into the darkness beyond the lantern light. Around her, the gathering had transformed from celebration to tense waiting, parents pulling children close, witches murmuring protective spells under their breath.
Dante moved to her side, his shoulder pressed against hers.
"Everyone stay calm." Maeve raised her voice, letting her alpha presence fill the square. "Patrols are checking the disturbance. Until they return, no one leaves the square. Stay close to the fire pits, keep the children in the center."
People moved to obey, the crowd reorganizing with practiced efficiency. They knew how to respond to threats. They'd survived worse than Hector Cross.
But as Maeve stood surrounded by her people, watching the tree line for signs of attack, she couldn't shake the feeling that the real danger hadn't shown itself yet..