9. Maia
9
MAIA
“ W hat do you want me to do with this?” I ask, looking at the large box in front of me. The contents of it are all packed away neatly, and I’ve gone through to take out all of the items I want to keep that won’t help them much.
Sentimental things.
Personal photos of the two of us together. The ugly sweater he wore for our first Christmas together. The birthday cards he’d saved over the years, despite me thinking it’s silly. He always claimed that it would be good in case someone died so he had their handwriting. For what, I have no idea. But he’s the dead one now, and his sentimental desires are something I can’t bring myself to break.
“I’ll take it,” Alex says, and his voice is dry from not speaking in a while.
He’s been quietly working on his laptop in the corner of the room since we got up here, with Phoebe sprawled out on her mat in front of us both. I have the ceiling projector turned on and the lights dimmed lower, and she’s obsessed with watching the sea animals float around the room.
Alex has been pretty quiet, only speaking up when I talk to him, and I have no doubt the space he’s been giving me has been set out deliberately to let me process.
I’m grateful for it.
“To give to your parents?” I raise an eyebrow as my tone heavily implies the answer to my question should be yes. They’re the ones who make the decisions to help Phoebe, right? Shouldn’t they be the ones to have it?
He sighs, a small ‘V’ forming in the centre of his forehead. “No.”
“Then what are you going to do with it?” I’m not giving up my daughter’s things—Ryan’s things—for him to just mess around with for no good reason. The whole point of this is to identify Ryan’s birth pack so that we can... so that we can what?
What is the plan here? How is finding out her birth pack going to change anything? Phoebe is my daughter, sure, and she’s absolutely Ryan’s... so, they do have a claim on us. If females are as rare as the Wolfe men are claiming, then why would the pack give her up?
Why haven’t I questioned this until now? Why?
“Well, we want to know who he is and where he came from,” Alex says, seemingly unaware of my inner plight. “Chances are we’re going to recognise him or at least narrow it down, and Topher and I need that information before my parents.”
“Why?” I’m not sure if I’m questioning what he said or myself for being this stupid until now. Why didn’t I ask this yesterday?
“My parents are done being the leaders of this pack, and yet, they refuse to hand it over to us right now,” Alex says with a shrug. “We’re not going to sit back until we have our rightful place—as Alphas to this pack. We need to know the best way to protect Phoebe, and that includes not giving information to those we find inadequate.”
“I see. And who has the most resources to protect Phoebe from whatever you find?” Can he hear how brittle my words are? Can he smell my anxiety?
A manic grin seems to fill his face as his eyes turn silver. There’s an almost predatory look about him that I know for a fact is directed solely towards me. His wolf believes we’re soul mates, after all. “Believe me, little mate, there is nobody on this Earth who could protect you and Phoebe better than I. My hands will be coated in the blood of your enemies, your lives safe in my hands. There’ll not be a body left to identify once I get my hands on anyone who dares even think about harming either of you. You and the pup will be safe from any werewolf, human, or other because you are both protected by the best there is.”
I sit back on my heels and pray he can’t scent my arousal. How is that a turn on? “Um...”
“Um?” he echoes, smirking. I watch as he closes the laptop and then slowly walks over to me. There’s a swagger in his step, his eyes not blinking as they focus on me. I don’t move, I don’t even think I can, as he comes to sit right next to me.
His silver eyes are hypnotising me, holding me underneath his spell in a way I can’t—or more accurately, don’t want to—break away from. His large, warm hand gently rises and brushes across my cheek, sending sparks through my body. My lips part ever so slowly, and he leans in and brushes his against mine.
It’s a soft kiss, hesitant, despite the confidence he seems to be emanating, but oh, fuck, do I sink into it. My hands rise up to his light caramel hair, running my fingers through the softness of it, and he deepens the kiss at my probing. Alex tugs me into his lap, and at every spot that our bodies touch, those pleasure-filled sparks shoot across us.
It’s a pleasant current, pulling us closer together, deepening our connection.
Alex seems to be purring, his chest vibrating, and my core tightens, ruining the moment. I groan, and Alex immediately pulls away.
His hands are gentle as they run up and down my sides, his eyes piercing in their intensity. He scours my body for what could be hurting me but comes up empty.
“Mate hurt,” he whispers. “How is mate hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I murmur, shaking my head.
“Mate lies.” He brushes my hair out of my face and leans in closer. “My mate is beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. But a terrible liar.”
“I’m not talking with Alex right now, am I?”
The man smirks. “Mate didn’t kiss Alex, either.”
“What is your name?” I can’t help but smile back at him.
“Max.”
“Oh, a very strong name,” I say, and he grins.
“Nice try. Why is my mate hurt?” he demands, tightening his hold on me when I go to move. I sigh and look over his shoulder at Phoebe. She’s asleep now, and my boobs are starting to ache. “My little mate will not be released until she tells me.”
“What is your guys’ obsession with my body?”
“It’s gorgeous. Your skin is so soft and smooth, your hands so?—”
I shove my face into his chest and let out a groan, cutting off what is likely going to be a lot of compliments. My tummy flutters, and I know that my cheeks are bright red. “Stop.”
“Stop? Stop telling my mate how beautiful she is? Never.” He growls the word never. “My mate will never be permitted to doubt her own self-worth. She was made for me and my brothers, just like we were made for her. You are perfection in its purest form.”
“It’s hard to believe,” I say, losing the embarrassment as I sit back in his lap so that I can see his face more clearly. There’s less of the tension lines across his face as Max is the one... in control? I’m not sure the terminology is right .
“What is? My love for you? My devotion?”
“Well, yes.”
He puffs out his chest as if I’ve just handed him a challenge. “Then I will work infinitely harder until the day you don’t doubt me.”
“It’s not that I doubt you, it’s more that this whole concept of soulmates makes no sense to me. Are you not mad or resentful that your choice of a mate has been taken away? That you’re saddled with me?”
He laughs so freely, tossing his head back as true humour is displayed across his face. The sound of it causes Phoebe to stir, so I move away from him, ignoring the reaction as I lift my tiny human up off the floor and shush her softly.
I move to the chair Alex—Max?—kindly vacated and unleash the tits so that she can feed. Max’s laugh cuts off, and he watches me with rapt attention. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m feeding and he likes my boobs or if he’s curious because he’s never seen it before.
His eyes fade back to hazel as Phoebe latches properly. There’s instant relief in the pressure from her eager suckles, and she makes the cutest faces. My other boob is still engorged, and I can’t wait for her to be done for it to soothe.
“Alex,” I call, raising my voice. “Can you grab me my haakaa please?”
“Your... what?” His pitch raises, and he looks around the room.
“Just grab my nappy bag, please. It’s there in the doorway,” I say, gesturing to the light grey bag. He jumps to his feet and brings it to me. I pull the haakaa out and attach it to the other boob to catch the let down as Phoebe feeds.
My milk came in properly two days ago but still won’t stabilise for another few weeks. My midwife suggested this since it’s not an actual breast pump, but will help catch little bits of my milk as I feed her. It’s been quite helpful for the bigger feeds, just to take the initial edge off—and it saves my clothes being soaked.
I was very glad that Seb had left my room before morning, since I not only soaked my T-shirt throughout the night... I also have lots of milk stains on the bed sheets.
“What are you going to do with that milk?” he demands, and his voice is gruff for some reason.
“What?” I ask, looking up at him properly. His eyes aren’t on me but on the haakaa, and honestly, I have no shame about doing this in front of him. We’re in my home, in my bedroom, and I did sort of just grind all over him a few minutes ago.
“What are you going to do with that extra milk that you’re getting?” He frowns. “Can she even drink it yet?”
“Not from an open cup, but if I put it into a bottle, she could.”
“Oh.” He genuinely seems so confused and out of place. It’s very sweet.
I explain how my supply is still in firm overproducing mode and how it hurts when I get engorged. The fascination from him, and attentiveness, has me talking a lot more than I thought I would and opening up about things I ordinarily wouldn’t share.
“So you were in pain because of your milk?” he asks once I’m done speaking. I frown. “When we stopped, earlier.”
“Oh.” I look down at my hungry little girl instead of acknowledging his question.
“That look shows it was not. Why the pain, Maia?” His tone doesn’t allow for refusal, even without him commanding me with his wolfy powers.
“I have stitches, Alex,” I mutter, lowering my head so that my hair will fall down to cover my face from him. “On my vagina. They hurt.”
“So when we were...” He trails off, and I still refuse to look at him. I hear his footsteps just before he crouches down in front of Phoebe and I. “You were in pain.” I nod as the pressure builds back in my chest. I count Phoebe’s milk spots and pretend the giant man in front of us isn’t actually there.
“Oh, Maia,” he whispers, squeezing my knee in an affectionate way. “I didn’t realise, little mate.”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “It’s fine. Things are just a bit sore, and honestly, we needed to stop anyway. We got very carried away. I’m... I’m a widow, for fuck’s sake.”
Mortification fills me as I think about Ryan, about the way I’ve tarnished his memory. How I’ve betrayed him by kissing another man this soon. He’s been dead for eight months, and yet... I’m already moving on.
What kind of person am I?
I went through his things. I’ve spent my morning looking through the box of Ryan’s stuff, of the memories we shared, of the life we had together... and I didn’t even move far away from it before kissing another man.
“Do not feel guilty,” he hisses, but I shake my head as a tear drips down my cheek. Alex’s thumb darts out and wipes it away. “Ryan is gone. It’s devastating that he was taken so young, but you are allowed to live your life and move on. Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting. It doesn’t mean no longer loving. Moving past your grief just gives you the chance to experience your next stage of life without drowning in despair. Like a butterfly.” He clicks his fingers, startling Phoebe as a smile fills his face. “My beautiful little butterfly mate. Grief doesn’t have timelines, and it doesn’t just disappear. You’re allowed to be sad but never guilty, Maia. If Ryan was a good male, he’d want you to move on.”
“And you?” I ask, my voice husky from tears. I can’t acknowledge what he’s saying. Not right now. “Are you a good male?”
There’s a glint in his eyes that I can’t read, but he shrugs. “Depends on the definition of good, little butterfly. But to you, I’ll not just settle for being good—every single day I will strive to be better. With me, you’ll never need to settle for not knowing you are completely and utterly mine.”
Well, holy fucking fanny flutters.
“ O h, for fuck’s sake,” I mutter, reading the letter that has been sent from the doctor’s office. Phoebe is strapped to my chest as I go through the letters that were delivered earlier.
“What’s wrong?” Alex steps towards me as if he’s going to use his body to protect me. I see his eyes flash silver in the mirror, and a smile tilts up my lips.
“I’ve got a letter from the doctor’s office about scheduling another appointment.” His brows raise, and his lips tighten. I sigh. “I’m not the biggest fan of my current doctor, and it’s annoyed me how fast he’s chased this up.”
“Who is the appointment for? You or Phoebe? If it’s just for Phoebe, we can get her in with one of our doctors.”
I bite back the scathing remark, knowing that Alex is just trying to help, and I’m pissed off at Dr Thomas and not him. “Both of us, I think.”
He nods. “Then can you not call the surgery and request another doctor for your appointment?”
“I suppose so,” I say, dialling the surgery. Phoebe is nestled against my chest, fast asleep, and the receptionist books us in for the day after Phoebe turns four weeks so we can see a different doctor—a female.
“All sorted?” he asks once I hang up. I nod, and there’s an aura of pride emanating from him. “Perfect. Do you mind if I run this out to the car and make a quick call before we leave?”
“Of course not. I want to clear out the fridge, anyway,” I murmur, and he nods, not even questioning me as he leaves. I got a grocery delivery only two days ago, and I want to bring any fresh food over to their house so that the food doesn’t go to waste.
As I zip the fridge bag closed, I spot someone outside the house, just in the garden. My eyes widen when I see the familiar head of blond hair, and I charge straight over there. I’ve missed him every other time, not able to see more than just him.
This time, that won’t be enough. I yank the back door open, and his eyes widen in shock as he sees me. But he’s the same as I remember. His blond curly hair is as messy as always, and his blue eyes are bright, showing no signs of the lifelessness I saw the night I identified him. He looks healthy, vibrant, full of life.
But he’s not. He’s dead.
I was the one to identify his body. There’s no mistaking that he’s gone.
And yet… I see him here in front of me. Again.
“Ryan!” I gasp. “What are you… how are you here ?”
My eyes widen, and my heart races as I take in the sight of the man I love standing before me as a… a spirit?
A whirlwind of emotions rushes through me faster than I can even identify, and I struggle to find the right words. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him since his death, and it was one of the biggest reasons that I chose to leave where we used to live together.
I’d see him in the street, but then I’d blink, and he’d be gone. I’d be unlocking my front door and see him in the living room, but by the time I’d get inside the house, he’d have already disappeared.
His presence was fleeting, but I couldn’t move on, I couldn’t let the memory of him go.
I had no choice, but now… he’s back. Somehow.
And, this time, I can do more than stare at him. I can talk to him.
I thought ghosts were meant to be trapped to places that hold deep memories, to certain spots that they had emotional ties to. So, how is he here?
It’s almost like a shutter appears over his face, and he’s a completely different man from the one I used to know—the one I love. He’s hiding his feelings and doing a good job of it because I can’t pry it out of him.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He jerks his head towards our little girl, and my eyes widen.
He’s here for Phoebe ? Ryan always talked about wanting kids. He made it clear how much he’d love them, no matter what. I never knew then, but I understand why he was so adamant about how he’d raise his daughter to be strong and sure of her place in the world, no matter what.
He knew, deep down, that he might not have a werewolf daughter. He knew she’d need to be strong, and fast, and confident.
Because he lived this life that I didn’t.
And if the reason he can come here is to see her, to help me raise her, to give me knowledge… I’m not going to turn it down.
Provided this isn’t something that could hurt her.
I thought… maybe… maybe that it was me doing this. That, maybe, he sensed how badly I needed him, and it was me who summoned him.
“You’re here so that you can see her?” I whisper, and he nods once. I step forward and lift her out of the carrier so that he can see her properly. His eyes light up, and he peers over my shoulder to see her. “I named her Phoebe, just like we talked about.”
“You did?” He speaks as quietly as I do, as if he’s scared to break the spell between us. I can hear the choked quality of his words, even if he’s not yet lifted the mask that hides his emotions from me.
I nod. “I know how much the name meant to you, and I wanted to honour your place in her life. ”
He reaches his hand out but pauses and looks to me for permission.
“If you can, feel free to touch her,” I whisper, not sure if he has the ability to touch her in this corporeal form. But he gently presses the tips of his fingers against her cheek, and he gasps. “She’s... She’s really special, Ry.”
“She’s your daughter,” he murmurs, not even looking away from her. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
“How are you here?” I wrap my arms around Phoebe, scared to hear his answer. “Is this... is this Phoebe’s doing?” He looks up at me now, pulling the same confused expression he normally does, and tears fill my eyes. “Just look at her, we’re not sure how much time you’ll have this time.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan’s tone borders on hostile here, as if he can’t grasp having done something wrong. It used to drive me crazy, but now, it’s weirdly comforting.
“Well, every other time, you’ve disappeared before I got too close. I want you to be able to see her, and she deserves to be able to see you.”
“You’re the reason I’m here, Maia,” he says quietly, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and regret. “I’m here to see Phoebe because of you.”
The tears prick at my eyes as joy fills me. He’s still here. But then, the confusion takes over, and the silly joy fades into the background. There’s so much happening, so many answers I need… so many questions.
“I don’t understand?—”
“Maia!” Alex calls, and his voice shatters this ethereal moment between Ryan and I, startling me. He reminds me that my future is still uncertain, that Ryan… where does Ryan fit in now? I turn to see where Alex is coming from before I feel a gust of wind, and when I turn back, Ryan is gone. Alex appears at the back door, and I can see the tension in his face. He’s such a sharp contrast to the peaceful aura that Ryan had that it only sends my emotions into a larger tailspin .
“What are you doing out here?” he asks, a rough edge to his tone, but the concern rings clear. He sniffs the air, and his eyes widen as a deep growl leaves his throat. “Who the fuck was here?”
“Nobody.” I don’t know why I lied. I could’ve… I could’ve just told him the truth.
“Someone has been here. I can smell them.”
I shake my head. “Nobody has been here, Alex.” Stop doubling down, Maia.
Surely, in a world full of werewolves, seeing the dead isn’t that big of a stretch. Right?
They’d be able to help me.
But deep down, I get the feeling this is something I can’t share, so I zip my mouth, giving him a tense smile.
“I see. Let’s head inside and get Phoebe into her car seat. I’ve got a meeting in forty-five minutes and need to get you both home.”
Once upon a time, this was our home.
But nothing ever lasts.