50. Maia
50
MAIA
A lex and I walk through to the living room, and I gasp as I see the bruising on Oliver’s face. It’s dark purple around his eyes, and there’s a huge bruise on the left side of his jaw.
There’s a pang of pain, some concern, and a little bit of annoyance, but I push that down.
This man is not Ryan, and I shouldn’t care the way I do.
Not that that difference means it’s okay that he’s been beaten up, but I shouldn’t be this bothered by seeing the evidence of it.
He is still a prick who has taunted me for months.
“I’m fine,” Oliver croaks in the same kind of way Ryan would.
I sway on my feet, and I can feel the weakness in my legs. I clutch at Alex’s arm, hating myself for letting the tsunami of emotions try to drag me down, and let him give me the support I need.
“Come sit, little butterfly,” Alex encourages, and when I don’t move myself, he gently leads me over to the big armchair. I lower myself into it as gracefully as I can, and when Alex moves away, a coldness seeps into me .
I’m tired. Exhausted, really. I feel like, ever since I’ve met the guys, it’s been non-stop drama. It would be so easy to blame the guys. To let Topher take the blame—the man would willingly assume it. It would be so simple to lash out at Ben—he’d take it and ask for another. Seb and Alex...
But, really, this goes all the way back to the beginning. It goes to Ryan, who I fell in love with. It goes to my “Aunt Emily”, who faked her own death.
It goes back to my parents—my mum, at the very least—who knew this family.
These secrets are deep seeded, and so many families are entwined in them. At this point, I think I have a bigger tie to all the conspiracies and dramas than the guys do.
And sadly, it’s from more than just my connection with Phoebe. Every single thread we’re exploring ties back to me in some way. As if I’m the centre of the conspiracies and secrets.
Maybe Fate was onto something when she thrust me into this world.
But my parents are dead, and Ryan’s dead, and Emily— Morgan— well, that’s too much to handle right now. I have nobody I trust that I can ask for answers.
So, Oliver will have to do. He’s already proven he won’t just lie or curb the truth to protect my feelings. I just hope he’ll share what he knows, even if it doesn’t follow the plan he’s created. I hope it doesn’t come to my guys needing to threaten or harm him.
But I can’t say I’m against it.
“Really?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at Topher, whose smugness is practically drowning me.
“It was well-deserved,” Topher says, a smirk on his face. Seb and Ben nod, each agreeing.
Oliver groans, and I glance over at him in time to see him shrug. “Can’t argue against it, really, Maia Papaya. I do wish your savages could’ve settled for breaking my nose once, though. I’ve got appearances to keep up with, and I do not heal as fast as they do.”
“It would be better if you were dead like—” Ben falls silent, looking at me, before glaring at Oliver. “It would just be better if you were dead.”
“Like Ryan?” Oliver taunts.
I hiss, and Oliver’s head snaps my way as two of my men growl. Seb is one of them, since he’s in my direct line of sight just behind Oliver, he can’t hide it, but I miss which of the other men acted up on my behalf.
“I loved him,” I say, glaring at Oliver. “No matter what story you’ve concocted from your creepy stalker days, I loved him. I won’t tolerate any disrespect towards him from my mates, and I most definitely won’t tolerate it from you.”
“He loved you, too, you know,” Oliver says softly. I flinch, and he leans forward. He doesn’t get off his seat, just rests his elbows on his knees, as he clasps his hands together. “You were never a game to him, Maia, never a passing fancy. He loved you with his entire soul.”
I frown, taking in the words from Alex earlier, the truth I know about werewolves and mates. “But if he were a wolf?—”
“No if, Maia,” Oliver says, shaking his head. “Ryan was a wolf, just like Phoebe and these pricks. He still loved you.”
I bite my lip, confusion filling me, and there’s hesitance from Alex and Topher. Ben’s amused, and Seb’s indifferent, and I’m curious about what they know.
Only one way to find out, I suppose, is to ask.
“But then... what about his... your... mate?” I avoid looking in his eyes as I ask the question, and the atmosphere in the room shifts.
Oliver sighs, leaning back in his chair, and he looks over at Ben with a defeated expression on his face. “You tell her. At least it won’t sound so pitiful, then.”
Ben cackles and grins at me. “Oliver’s deformed state means there’s no mate for any of them, darling. The fuck up of the family broke his trio’s soul so badly that there’s no mate out there for any of them.”
I gasp, my hands covering my mouth in horror. My brain can’t even begin to process the words Ben said, the descriptions he used for his cousin .
They’ve got no mate.
Oliver clenches his fists, breathing fast and heavy, before he relaxes. “I figured you deserved those little jabs for the runt comment I made earlier. You’re a cunt, but you’re not wrong.” He turns to me and shrugs. “Without me being a wolf, the bond the three of us brothers share is incomplete, so there’s no mate that we can claim.”
My brows draw together as I cock my head. “So you need to get your wolf to bond with Ethan, to then bond with your mate?”
Oliver nods.
“So, can’t you just get Ethan to change you?” I look around the room, not sure what I’m missing. “You’re an adult now, so if there were safety issues?—”
“The only thing that can turn a human into a werewolf is a mating bite,” Topher says softly. “It’s probable that a female wolf could claim Oliver, and Ethan by association, and attempt to turn him... but since they’re not fated mates, that wouldn’t happen.”
“I don’t understand. Why can’t a parent or a sibling do it?”
“Science, Maia Papaya,” Oliver says.
“Do not—” Topher snarls, anger filling his eyes as he feels my pain.
“Please, don’t,” I echo, and Oliver flinches. “I... how do you even know that he called me that?”
“He called you Papaya ?” Ben scoffs.
Oliver’s eyes drop to his lap, and there’s a sheepish expression that covers his face.
My eyes widen, my mind racing to fill in the blanks as to what could cause this sort of reaction from him. Surely, gossiping with his brother— oh. Disgust fills me, my stomach rolling, and my head fills in the gaps.
I stare at the man so familiar— so fucking familiar— as bile rises up in my throat. I can’t stop it, and I launch myself up from the armchair, racing through to the toilet. I drop down to my knees on the cold tile just as my breakfast starts coming back up. A warm body drops down beside me, rubbing my back and offering gentle words as I gag and retch.
My throat is burning, my eyes stinging.
They swapped places. Or at the very least, Oliver became Ryan, didn’t he? They shared the fake role of Ryan Tartan, and I was the fool they played.
I gag again, my body in agony, as I can’t stop vomiting. The retches are loud and painful, and I can’t even pause to thank whoever is holding back my hair.
They betrayed me.
He betrayed me.
He’s kept so much from me, and like the fool I am, I’ve forgiven his memory over and over again. He’s gone, and the forgiveness has surely been for me… but I’ve given it so freely.
More gags, even louder retches. Nothing is coming up any more. My stomach is sore. Empty. My head hurts as the pain rolls around it.
Was it just during everyday life... or was it... did they...
I grip the toilet, trying to force myself to continue throwing up. I need it gone. All of it.
I can’t feel this way. I feel dirty. Disgusting.
They played me.
“Stop,” a hard voice commands as I continue forcing myself to throw up. It’s not coming, no matter how much I try, and I’m gagging so hard.
“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” I’m sobbing, and I have no idea when the tears even started pouring, but I can’t contain myself. I can’t do it. The hiccups and sobs are stopping me from speaking properly, the gags and retches burning my throat .
“Stop. Crying. Now.” The words are a forced growl, and I fall back on my bum, my eyes wide as I stare towards the doorway. My mind is still racing, but the hysterics are just cut off, as if Topher himself flipped the switch. “Calm down.”
He’s stolen my panic, and I know I should be mad, but I’m not.
“Thank you,” I choke out through my burning throat.
My eyes are wet and sore, my cheeks swollen and covered in tear tracks. I need to brush my teeth and probably change my T-shirt.
I’m a mess.
“What happened?” Alex asks softly. He’s the one on the floor with me, and it’s Topher in the doorway.
I bite my lip as tears well up in my eyes again, and I shake my head to try and stop them from falling. “He… they…”
“We did nothing,” I hear Oliver shout. I freeze, looking at Topher, whose eyes are narrowed in concern. “We never swapped places, Maia!”
“You thought they swapped places?” Topher’s gaze is wide, his feelings portraying nothing but shock, as I nod pitifully.
“Oh, little butterfly,” Alex whispers, tugging me into his lap. He wraps his arms around me tightly, and I’m torn between crying and pushing him away so I can go hide.
“We never did that!” Oliver shouts again.
“We can just kill him,” Topher offers, and I know that he means this genuinely. “Then we don’t need to determine if we can trust him or not. I’d make it brutal. Send body parts back to his family, you know? Organise it properly.”
I giggle slightly, my head and stomach still reeling, and Alex presses a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Breathe, princess,” Topher demands. “We’re figuring it out.”
***
“Ryan never knew what love was until he met you,” Oliver says softly. I can’t look at him. My face is red, and I’m full of shame at my actions from earlier.
The garden is so beautiful, so serene, and yet, I’m a huge mess, inside and out. My guys were hesitant about letting Oliver and I come out here alone, but I wasn’t as nervous. There’s a small part of me that trusts him.
I don’t find him a big threat. He loves his brother, that much is clear, and he’s got affection for Phoebe and I. He’s not a wolf, and whilst I have no doubt he could hurt me, I know my guys would get here before that could happen.
I’m safe, and I want to hear what he’s got to say.
“He never had it easy, none of us did, really.” He stretches his legs out and looks around the garden. I’m trying not to focus on him, but I can’t help seeing the little movements out of the corner of my eye.
Tracking them in an effort to keep myself calm, even though there’s no true risk from him.
“I don’t know what they’ve told you, what Ryan told you, but we all had it hard living in that toxic household. Phoeb— Morgan was the favourite. She was special .”
“You’re all special.”
He grins at me, his eyes lighting up, before sighing. “I’m glad you think so, Maia, but in our family, nobody was except her. But being the favourite meant being paraded around men fifteen years your senior, even as a young girl. It meant your achievements being shared across multiple packs in an effort to secure the highest bidder for you. It meant that rather than punishing you for acting out, your brothers would take the beating instead.”
I flinch, dread replacing my embarrassment, and I turn to look at him properly. “I can’t imagine.”
“Ryan was meant to be untouchable since he was the future alpha. Morgan was untouchable because she was the girl. But Ethan and I? It wasn’t good for us.” Oliver shifts slightly in the chair, turning his body so that he can see me just as well as I can see him. “But you were right about Ryan, Maia. He would never, ever sit it out. He’d take the attention to him, beg for the punishments to protect me and Ethan, and even Morgan, in a way.
“My parents would make Morgan watch and bully her so she knew that if she acted out, that this would be her . They’d blame their abuse of us on her and justify it all. But Ryan never once faltered. He protected us all the best he could. He’d pretend to be us where he could and agitate our parents so badly it was him to take the beating.
“Morgan was the oldest, and she tried her hardest to thrive, but they worked so hard to eradicate that from her. They hated her having a brain, they hated her having a life that wasn’t organised by them. They hated us all.”
“I’ve heard she was the best of you all,” I say softly.
“She was. My parents would have you believe it was because she was a wolf… but it was just her . She was kind and sweet, and if given the chance, she would’ve been an amazing luna for our pack, for any pack.”
“But that was taken from her.”
He sighs and nods. “Our parents are fucked in the head. Don’t get me wrong, your in-laws aren’t much better, but they’re all so fucking unhinged. A lot… a lot has gone down that you don’t know, and we’re running out of time to get you up to speed.”
“Are you in danger?” I ask, feeling the urgency of his words, the undercurrent of panic building inside of me once more.
“No. But Ethan is,” he says, and then he sighs deeply. “And on the subject of my older brother, we need to talk.”
“About?”
“You mentioned a visit we had, earlier today, where you said that if you had need of Ethan , he’d come.”
I nod slowly, chills racing down my spine. “You came to me on the twenty-second, nearly two weeks ago. ”
He sighs, rubbing his face, and shakes head. “No, Maia, I didn’t.”
Hope builds for a brief second, so brief I hate how much it hurts for it to be shattered so quickly. With Morgan back from the dead… my heart wishes Ryan was, too.
No matter how confusing it would be.
“Ethan,” I whisper.
“Ethan,” he confirms, leaning back in his seat. “We’ve gone about this so wrong.”
“Gone about what? None of this makes sense to me.” I bring my legs up on the chair. “I barely had time to come to terms with the idea of Ethan , and now there’s you. I don’t understand what’s been going on over the last few months or what your plan was. I don’t understand why you have been following me and showing up time after time.
“I don’t understand where you fit into any of this, Oliver, and I want to, but I can’t unless you tell your side of the story. Unless you reveal what you’re working on and what plans are underway. Until you explain exactly what you know.”
“I’ll tell you everything,” Oliver says. “But first?—”
There’s a shift in the air, so minute, as a loud whistle sound echoes through the quiet of the outdoors. Oliver’s eyes seem to sharpen, his body radiating adrenaline as he listens.
“What was that?” I demand.
“Trouble,” he hisses, jumping to his feet.
I freeze and shout for my mates as an identical double of Oliver appears in front of us, a good few feet away. His eyes are bright, his body tense, and whilst I doubt either would hurt me after Oliver’s words… I’m scared.
“Maia, trust me,” Ethan calls, his voice deeper than usual. His wolf is clearly out to play, and that adds to my terror. “Move away from Oliver slowly.”
“Don’t do this, Ethan,” Oliver says, and it almost sounds like he’s pleading with his brother.
I hope my fear is enough to call my guys because I’m scared to move, scared to react. My brain recognises the shift in the atmosphere and won’t let me do anything .
“No, brother, I told you not to do this,” Ethan says. “This isn’t the time. We’re not ready. You are not ready.”
“I had no choice,” Oliver roars, and that danger fills the air once more. The one where I’m around a predator, a wolf, someone who is going to hurt me.
Or at the very least, someone my brain thinks is going to hurt me.
The issue is, it has intensified since the original presence when Ethan arrived.
Because my brain recognises Oliver as the predator, as the one who is going to hurt me.
“You said you weren’t a wolf.” My words are nearly silent, but both men hear it and turn to face me. My panic increases, and in a desperate move, I tug on the bonds inside me, screaming out for help, pulling as hard as I can so that I won’t be alone.
“I’m not,” Oliver says, his voice deepening, his eyes brightening. He takes a step forward, ignoring the shout of, “No!” from Ethan. He seems bigger, wider, stronger.
I take a step back as the back door flies open, and with another shout from Ethan and a blink from me, the man in front of me is gone and a light grey wolf is in his place. He looks different to the guys, his form bigger, more… dangerous.
His eyes are a bright grey, like Phoebe’s, and he lets out the loudest howl I’ve ever heard. Goosebumps race over my skin, my heart beating erratically, as he launches towards me.
I scream as five other werewolves charge over to us, the sounds of their combined feet pounding as loud as my heart. It’s overwhelming, and I’m so unsteady on my own legs.
But they’re too late.
Oliver launches towards me, his teeth sinking into my forearm. The bite goes so deep I’m sure he touches bone before he withdraws. Agony shoots through me as my body begins to burn up. My nerves are on fire, my blood feeling wrong as it is pushed through my body.
I clutch at my arm, my legs giving way, followed by my body. My head lolls to the ground as five werewolves pin the sixth to the ground, barks, whines, and bites are all I can hear as my body screams out in pain.
Oliver howls and cries, but he doesn’t fight them off. He lets them do what they need to do.
Seb is the first to shift back, and he races over to me, followed quickly by Alex and Ethan. My eyesight starts to blur, my head pounding, as the toxin that Oliver released into my bloodstream continues to be pumped through my body.
My head is moved into someone’s lap as the world goes silent.
My back arches, my mates and Ethan trying to pin me down, to stop me from moving, to stop me from making words.
My mouth opens.
My hands scratch at the grass, at the people near me, as I try to release some of this energy.
I let instincts take over.
And I howl.