Chapter 8 Maverick
Maverick
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the living room. Maverick stirred on the couch, his sleep-addled mind slowly registering where he was. His penthouse in the heart of the city, a place he inhabited only when he was Dane Brown.
He’d hoped to never return to that oversized one-bedroom, two-story glorified apartment with its rooftop garden, infinity pool, and balcony.
The place wasn’t him. Decorated with costly, useless figurines that he’d been told by the decorator were priceless.
Paintings, worth fortunes that held no meaning, scattered along any available wall that wasn’t ceiling-to-floor windows.
It was the home of a cold, calculating logistics strategist, not the lone werewolf in his heart.
The quiet life Zera led in Havenwood with her son sounded much preferable.
He envied the simple days she must’ve enjoyed living in a home that wasn’t a cover or basically a military base ready for missions.
He wondered what that would be like, to live a life in which the only things he had to worry about were getting to work on time and caring for his family.
An ordinary life for an ordinary werewolf. But that wasn’t his life.
He stretched out his limbs, the soreness from yesterday’s events reminding him of the reason he was here playing a married man.
His eyes followed the stairs leading up to the bedroom occupied by Zera, who’d saved his life last night, a fact that still intrigued him.
She could’ve driven away when they were attacked, left him to fend for himself.
But she didn’t. Instead, she used her pixie magic to save him despite barely knowing him.
If she hadn’t used her pixie magic to trap the dragon shifter’s buddies, he would have certainly been outnumbered.
Sure, he probably would have put a dent in them, but they were strong, and he didn’t doubt that they would have brought him down eventually. He hated to think about what might’ve happened to her if he’d failed.
But neither of them had failed, and she had stayed despite his background that stirred something inside of him. The urge to suppress those feelings gnawed at him, but even he knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Then there was the bounty on their heads.
He scratched his head, knowing this would only make their mission to find Gareth and his current employer more difficult.
He was probably the one who had put the bounty on their heads in the first place.
Perhaps it would’ve been smart just to let one of the bounty hunters bring them to Gareth and be done with it.
But something told him if any of the bounty hunters caught them, they’d be lucky to remain alive.
That, and Maverick refused to be caught on someone else’s terms. Their best shot at survival was finding Gareth on their own. At least then they’d have the element of surprise.
Maverick rolled off the couch, his muscles protesting as he stood up. As much as he wanted to dwell on his thoughts, he needed a distraction. Making breakfast—a mundane household chore that usually helped him clear his mind—seemed like a good idea.
He moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, even if he hadn’t been here in months. It was a room that was a constant no matter where he lived, and all he needed were a few ingredients and a functioning stove.
Opening the refrigerator—which was stocked, thanks to the request he’d made of his newly set-up faestone—he grabbed what he needed and prepared their meal.
The sizzling sound of eggs frying and the aroma of coffee brewing filled the spacious penthouse, offering a sense of normalcy in an otherwise-chaotic situation.
The sound of a door opening followed by footsteps upstairs caught his attention, and Maverick turned his head in time to see Zera emerge from the staircase leading to the bedroom and rooftop garden.
Her hair tumbled over her shoulder in loose waves, her lavender eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
The simple sight of her struck him like a bolt of lightning, leaving him momentarily lost for words.
“Good morning,” she greeted, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. “I didn’t expect to wake up to the smell of breakfast.”
“Morning,” Maverick rumbled, trying to sound nonchalant as he busied himself with flipping the eggs in the pan. “Figured we could both use a decent meal before we get on with our day.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Zera said, moving closer to the kitchen counter.
As she leaned against the counter, watching him cook, Maverick was acutely aware of her presence.
It was unsettling and exhilarating at the same time, leaving him unsure of how to react.
But for now, he focused on finishing their breakfast because that was a task he could handle without losing his bearings.
“How’d you sleep?” He had been happy to sleep on the couch while she took the primary bedroom. This house never felt like his anyway, and the spare bathroom had the essentials.
“Good. It’s quiet,” she said with a yawn as Maverick plated the eggs and poured coffee into two mugs. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
The steam danced through the air, creating a cozy atmosphere despite the uptight decor.
Even the furniture was made of cold, sleek metal that seemed too pristine for everyday use.
Somehow, even years of spy work had made him feel more like an imposter with each case, and despite what he’d told Zera about it getting easier, it didn’t. It just got… different.
Maverick took a sip of his coffee, savoring the rich, bitter taste. His eyes flitted to Zera as she seemed to do the same. He set his mug down and sighed.
“Well, first I need to get this faestone shipped to Jade’s address down in Pixie Hollow,” he explained, his voice steady as he tried to keep his focus on the task at hand.
A hard feat to do when Zera moved her toned legs up to her chest, as if curling her whole body around the mug. Maverick’s gaze involuntarily followed the graceful curve of her body, his mind momentarily veering off course.
Zera caught his lingering look, and her eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. A playful smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, betraying her amusement.
“And by shipping the faestones, you mean…?” She twirled the stirrer in her coffee absently, the movement sending ripples through the dark liquid.
Maverick cleared his throat, quickly averting his gaze and regaining his composure. “By means that won’t raise suspicion.”
“But you won’t tell me how?”
“No,” he said with finality, digging into his food. “You just focus on the mission.”
She didn’t need to know he was planning on giving them to a clan of were-chameleons who specialized in smuggling almost anything past the border guards without raising suspicion. He had a feeling she would be hesitant to trust any were-fae, even if they weren’t like the pack he’d fled from.
He’d already made the arrangements. They were to meet him in the downstairs bar at eleven on his way out. He doubted she would even notice the transaction.
“The mission of being your wife?” she teased, throwing him a kiss and biting her lip before popping a piece of bacon in her mouth.
He nearly choked on his food. The seductive undertones in Zera’s voice caught him off guard. He coughed, attempting to regain his composure as he avoided eye contact with her.
“Being Mrs. Charlotte Brown is part of the cover story,” he replied, his voice slightly strained. “Which you’ll have to commit to during our main objective today.”
He dared a glance at Zera and masked how his heart quickened at her playful demeanor with a look of indifference. She already thought he was a bloody arrogant faeboy. Might as well act like one.
“Oh?” She arched her brow. “And what’s that?”
A smug grin crept onto Maverick’s face as he realized she was the type of woman who liked to be in control, and here in his world, she had to play by his rules, and it made her…
nervous. Just like being around a pixie made him.
He leaned back against the counter, exuding an air of self-assured confidence.
His voice dripped with amusement as he responded, “We’re going to get you fitted for war.”
“War?” Zera’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Don’t worry about it,” Maverick replied, his jaw set in a cocky manner. He knew the mysterious would put her on edge, and he enjoyed seeing her squirm a little. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Zera glowered, but to Maverick’s surprise, she didn’t prod him on the topic as they finished their breakfast.
“And how’s your… hobby coming along?” he asked, hoping to distract from the lingering tension between them.
She shrugged. “I think I’ve been able to recreate the right conditions for the seedlings I brought.”
“Oh?” He hadn’t the faintest clue what sort of plant was so important that she had to bring it with her along with a whole science lab, but she’d stubbornly refused to leave it at home. “And what are those?”
“You really want to know?” She arched her brow.
“Sure.”
“Well,” she began, leaning forward with excitement, “first, I had to consider the natural habitat of the everfrost blossom.” She noticed his confusion. “It’s a rare flower that blooms only once every five hundred years in the Spire Alps.”
“So it will only grow in a very cold, snowy climate?” he asked.
“Exactly, and with plenty of sun, which the south-facing windows in the room upstairs provide,” she said, the light in her eyes drawing him in.
The sheer passion in her voice was intoxicating.
“But I needed to figure out the snow and temperature situation without setting your thermostat to arctic levels.”
“I appreciate that.” He chuckled. “Were you able to figure it out?”