Chapter 41 Maeve
MAEVE
Morning sun poured through the bedroom windows like liquid gold.
Maeve woke to warmth and safety, Dante's arm heavy across her waist, his breath steady against her neck. She lay still for a moment, savoring the peace, the rightness of waking up beside him on the first day of a new year.
Their year. Their future.
The carved lions pendant rested on the nightstand where she'd carefully placed it before falling asleep. She reached for it now, running her thumb over the intertwined figures, marveling at the detail Dante had put into every curve and line.
"You're thinking too loud." His voice came rough with sleep, but she heard the smile in it. "It's barely dawn."
"It's almost nine." She turned in his arms, meeting those amber eyes that always saw too much. "And I can hear the town waking up. We should get downstairs."
"Or." He pulled her closer, his hand sliding to her hip. "We could stay here and let them celebrate without us."
"Tempting." She kissed him once, soft and lingering. "But you know Twyla will break down the door if we don't make an appearance soon."
He groaned but released her, sitting up and stretching in ways that made muscles ripple across his back. She traced one of his scars with her finger, feeling him shiver.
"You keep doing that and we're definitely not leaving this bed." He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Come on, lioness. Let's go face the masses."
They dressed quickly, stealing kisses between layers of clothing, the easy intimacy of mates who'd learned each other thoroughly. Maeve fastened the pendant around her neck, then pulled on a thick sweater the color of deep crimson.
"Beautiful." Dante said it simply, like stating fact, and her chest warmed.
The sounds from below grew louder as they descended the stairs. Voices and laughter, the clink of glasses, the familiar bustle of her tavern in full swing. She pushed open the door and stopped short.
The Silver Fang had been transformed overnight.
Garland and ribbons decorated every surface, silver and gold catching lamplight.
A banner reading "Congratulations Maeve & Dante" hung above the bar, clearly Twyla's handiwork based on the excessive glitter.
And the place was packed with townsfolk, all turning to cheer when she appeared.
"There's the bride-to-be!" Twyla swept forward with two mugs of steaming coffee, her wheat-colored hair adorned with tiny bells that jingled. "About time you came down. We've been celebrating for hours."
"It's nine in the morning." Maeve accepted the coffee gratefully, breathing in the rich aroma. "How long have you been here?"
"Since seven." Twyla's grin turned impish. "Some of us never left from last night. New Year's Day and an engagement? That's two celebrations in one."
Cora appeared next, pulling Maeve into a hug that smelled like lilacs and happiness. "Let me see it properly in the light."
Maeve touched the pendant, watching it catch the morning sun streaming through the repaired windows. "He carved it himself. Spent nine days on it."
"It's perfect." Cora's soft green eyes shimmered with emotion. "You two are perfect."
"Hardly." But Maeve smiled, scanning the crowd for Dante. She found him near the bar with Callum and Kieran, all three men laughing about something while Freya looked on with fond exasperation.
"Speech!" Someone called from the back. Others picked up the chant. "Speech! Speech!"
Maeve's first instinct was to refuse, but Dante caught her eye across the room and nodded encouragement. She moved to the center of the tavern, Twyla pressing a spoon into her hand to clink against her mug for attention.
The room quieted, all eyes turning to her expectantly.
"I'm not good at speeches." She started honestly, earning a few chuckles. "But I want to say thank you. To all of you. For standing with us during the attack. For believing in what Hollow Oak represents. For standing with me and making sure the tavern never lost its purpose."
Her gaze found the faces that mattered most. Callum and Cora, family in blood and choice. Kieran and Freya, fierce protectors. Emmett and Katniss, steady as stone. Lucien and Moira, keepers of knowledge. Ryker and Sonya, touched by prophecy but unbroken by it.
"This town survived because we fought together." She continued, feeling her lioness rise with pride. "Because we chose community over tradition that no longer serves us. Because we understand that strength comes in many forms, and leadership means listening as much as commanding."
Dante moved to stand beside her, his presence solid and sure. She reached for his hand without looking, their fingers lacing together automatically.
"And because sometimes," she squeezed his hand, "the best things in life are worth fighting for. Worth choosing every single day, even when it scares you."
"Especially when it scares you." Dante added quietly, just for her.
The room erupted in cheers and applause. Mugs raised in toast, children laughing, the whole tavern radiating the kind of joy that made Maeve's throat tight.
"So when's the wedding?" Miriam called from her seat near the fireplace, her silver hair gleaming, her half-moon spectacles reflecting lamplight.
Maeve looked at Dante, saw her own thought reflected in his eyes, and smiled. "Actually, we're eloping."
The room went silent with shock.
"Eloping?" Twyla's voice pitched higher. "But the town will want to celebrate properly. A ceremony at the Council Glade, lanterns on the lake, everyone dressed in their finest—"
"We've already had our ceremony." Dante interrupted gently. "The bond is sealed. The choice is made. Everything else is just paperwork."
"But—" Twyla started.
"We'll have a party when we return." Maeve assured her. "A proper reception where everyone can celebrate with us. But the actual wedding? That's just for us. Quiet. Simple. Ours."
Understanding rippled through the crowd. This wasn't about excluding anyone. It was about two alphas who'd fought so publicly for their right to be together claiming this one private moment for themselves.
"Where will you go?" Cora asked softly.
"Somewhere with mountains and snow." Maeve said. "Maybe a cabin by a lake. Somewhere we can just be together without the weight of leadership for a few days."
"A week." Dante corrected. "At least a week."
"The tavern—" she started.
"Will be fine." Callum stepped forward. "Cora and I can manage. So can half the people in this room. You've earned this, cousin. Take it."
Emotion clogged her throat. She nodded, not trusting her voice.
The celebration continued around them, shifting from surprise to acceptance to genuine happiness.
People took turns congratulating them, offering advice both useful and ridiculous, pressing gifts into their hands that ranged from practical travel supplies to Twyla's "emergency glitter" that neither of them understood the purpose of.
By noon, the party had spilled into the streets.
The town square bustled with activity as New Year's Day celebrations merged with engagement festivities.
Children ran through the snow, throwing snowballs and building forts.
Adults gathered around fire pits, sharing food and stories and the easy camaraderie of people who'd survived darkness together.
Maeve stood at the tavern's entrance, watching it all with Dante's arm around her shoulders. The pendant warmed against her skin, catching light with every breath.
"Happy?" He asked quietly.
"Terrified." She admitted. "And happier than I've ever been. Both at the same time."
A group of children raced past, their laughter bright and clear in the winter air. One of them called out a greeting, waving mittened hands. Maeve waved back, seeing the future in their joy.
Someday, maybe, there would be cubs of their own. Children with Dante's golden hair or her dark eyes, learning to shift in these safe woods, growing up knowing that love was always a choice worth making.
But for now, this was enough. More than enough. More than she ever thought she’d have.
"When do we leave?" She leaned into him, breathing in pine and winter and home.
"Tomorrow." He decided. "Give the town today to celebrate, give ourselves tonight to pack. Then we disappear for a week and come back married."
"Scandalous." But she grinned. "I love it."
"I love you." He turned her to face him fully, his amber eyes serious despite the smile playing at his lips. "Every stubborn, fierce, beautiful part of you."
"I love you too." She pulled him down for a kiss.
Around them, Hollow Oak celebrated under winter sun. The town she'd fought for, bled for, almost died defending and always would. The community that had given her strength when she'd thought she had to stand alone.
The Veil shimmered overhead, invisible but present, a living reminder that some sanctuaries were worth any price. That magic existed in the spaces between ordinary and extraordinary. That sometimes the greatest power came from choosing vulnerability over armor.
She'd spent so many years believing that independence meant isolation. That strength required solitude. That accepting love would somehow diminish who she was.
She'd been wrong.
Maeve touched the carved pendant one more time, feeling its smooth wood warm beneath her fingers.
"Ready to start our life together?" Dante asked, his voice low and meant only for her.
She looked at her town, her home, her future spreading bright before her.
"Yeah." She smiled up at him, feeling her lioness settle with deep contentment. "I really am."
The defiant independent lioness had found her match that softened her in ways she never thought possible.
And as the sun climbed higher over Hollow Oak, painting everything in shades of gold and promise, Maeve Cross chose love for the first time over anything and everything else.
Again.
Always.
Forever.