Chapter 2
MAEVE
“Fuck,” Hadrian hisses, just as Lucifer strides to the wall and punches it with all his might.
“Very… plebeian of you,” I say dryly, trying to hide my unease. I look at Dr Rush. “So, I’ve been drugged with some kind of fertility booster?”
He rubs the back of his neck, his scent souring.
“We’re uncertain, Maeve. We’re seeing markers consistent with a gonadotropin analogue or some kind of luteal-phase modulator—”
“Love, you’re confusing everyone,” Caitlin interjects, shaking her head. “We can’t confirm things without running more detailed tests on your blood, Maeve.”
Dr Rush nods. “I’m sorry. I do want to make a very big request, though.”
“I don’t take requests.”
“But she will listen and maybe she’ll feel generous,” Hadrian adds, giving me a warning look. I sneer at him.
“Don’t go back to the compound for your next heat. Stay here, at the pride. Home or hospital—we’ll make a plan. But, and most importantly, I’d really, really prefer that someone other than your usual team monitors your aftercare.”
“Why?” Draven asks. His voice is hoarse, and I can’t tell what’s going on inside this man. I wish he was more expressive. More open.
“I don’t trust the medical team you’ve had so far,” Dr Rush says. “It’s nothing against the Tribunal, but—”
“Oh, don’t worry about your treason remarks,” I say, waving him off. “I’ve said worse to Adrian’s face. I get it. They’re drugging me, and you’re interested from a scientific point of view of how it all works. Instead of continuing their sick experiment, you just want to study the effects of it.”
“No. I care about you—”
I scoff, shaking my head. “Yeah, sure, you do. Whatever. I can stay in the pride—I have no intention of going back to the compound. How long am I stuck here for?”
Caitlin gives me a small smile. “We’d like to take some more blood, and then book you in for some scans.
I don’t think today is the best time, considering how you were admitted, but if you’d be open to us discussing with Dr Abbott, your psychiatrist, it would be very beneficial to get them on the books. ”
I groan. “Sure, whatever.”
I don’t care. I really don’t care.
Part of me, deep down, probably does, but I don’t have the energy. Not now, and probably not ever. Knowing that she’s… that they thought this was appropriate…
They’ve used me.
They’ve defiled my body. Not by touching me the obvious way, but worse.
They’ve rewired my chemical structure and called it medicine.
Every heat, every hospitalisation, every ounce of pain I endured… they did that. I was their experiment, day after day.
I shake my head, desperately burying the feelings inside the box, locking it tight once more. This is going to be another fun thing to unpack in therapy, I suppose.
Of course, I’ve got PTSD. Trust is a luxury item I can’t afford, no matter how large my bank account is.
Dr Rush and Caitlin feel sincere, but so did Adrian and Dr Jones at first. People lie, they pretend, and, honestly, they’re far too easy to bribe.
Ultimately, they answer up the chain and won’t be able to resist an order.
What if they use me again—another lab rat with interesting data?
Well, a lab chromius.
I can’t cope with it. I can’t.
I hate my life. I hate every person in it.
I hate existing as nothing more than a puppet for someone else to control.
I hate what they’ve done to me. The way they’ve manufactured my body to obey their demands. The suffering I’ve had to endure because they decided to play god and fuck with my biology.
Every single time I think I’m taking a step forward, they push me backwards. At this point, it’s not even one step forward, two steps back. It’s like 20,000 steps backwards, and now I have a new hurdle to climb over—a new piece of trauma to overcome.
“You’ve had very regular heats, and despite attempting heat blockers, you couldn’t use them,” Caitlin continues, but I’ve not really been listening to anything she’s saying.
I can’t shut up the voice in my mind. My chameleon is still hiding, still too out of it to contribute to the struggles we’re enduring.
But the mention of heat blockers is interesting. My supposed ‘allergy’.
Convenient, isn’t it?
One reaction that shut every door, and I had no choice but to suffer.
Most shifters who don’t want to go into heat manage on tablets, patches, or even shots.
Me, I’m deathly allergic. We couldn’t even try alternatives to manage things.
But what if that was the point?
Keep me regulated in my cycle, and keep their data clean.
If they lied, again, I suffered for nothing.
“Maeve, you’re very quiet,” Caitlin says tentatively. “Is there anything you want to share?”
I heave a sigh. “Look, my life is a mess. The people I was meant to trust are clearly toxic and should just be murdered. Unfortunately, that’s not possible right now.
“When I first moved to the compound, and I had my first heat, we weren’t prepared for it because who has a heat with no mates and no plan? They tried a heat blocker so I could skip them entirely.
“Annoyingly, I crashed hard and nearly died due to the allergic reaction. Now, I’m wondering if I ever was even given a heat blocker.”
The two mates turn to their mental connection, and I have no idea what they’re discussing, but at least I don’t need to listen to their theories.
At this point, I don’t want to know. I can’t have more conspiracies to tie my thoughts up at night. I do enough of that on my own.
I don’t want the proof.
“Do you really think that’s something they’d do?” Hadrian asks, but it’s not me he’s looking at. It’s his cousin. “Do you think it’s been going on this whole time?”
Lucifer snorts. “Are you kidding me now, cuz? Of course, it’s been going on this whole time.”
I laugh, but it’s a bitter sound. “The real question isn’t when it began or whether they’d do it—of course, they have, and who cares when it started. The real question is: who made the order?”
“The order?” Hadrian and Draven ask at the same exact time.
I raise a brow, not sure if they’re being deliberately stupid or if they just don’t understand what I’m saying. Probably both.
“The order—who gave the command to get this experiment rolling? Who funds it? How high does it go—the Tribunal, just Adrian and a select few? Hell, does Atticus know? Is this information that they’ve been hiding from me in the archives?
“This is an operation that more than one person is involved in, but figuring out how far it goes and who exactly is involved means figuring out the cancer that’s taken over the Tribunal.”
“Scarier question—what was the endgame?” Lucifer adds, and I shiver, hating the feeling of things crawling all over me.
I feel violated. Disgusting.
“Fill me up with babies so I can repopulate the world,” I sneer, and this time, my chromius hisses. She’s as angry as I am, and it’s clear that having a common energy pulls her out of her panicked state.
Perfect. My inner chameleon only reacts to anger, murderous intent, or fear.
Not sure what that says about me, but you know.
“What do we do?” Hades demands, his concern palpable.
“I’d like to loop Dr Abbott in,” Dr Rush says. “Hormones can hit the mood hard, and we need to make sure you’re in a safe place.”
My arms stings as Caitlin unhooks me from the IV. She’s careful not to touch me, but the movement of the needle, of the wire, of the tape, is too much.
Everything is too much.
“Talk to him, sure, but I’m doing it regardless,” I say, ignoring the exasperation on Hadrian’s face. Asshole doesn’t get a say. “It’s my body, and I’m not letting anyone else make a decision for me.”
Dr Rush nods carefully. “If you are interested in trying the heat blockers under our close supervision, we’re more than happy to do that. I know trust will probably be hard right now, but—”
I cut him off with a bitter laugh—one so dark and full of anger, but he doesn’t flinch.
“You can’t say you know it’s hard when you’ve never had to suffer through it.”
Lucifer gives me a soft look. “They might not, but I know some sort of what you’re going through, and, honestly, for now, we can trust these people. I’d never let anything happen to you.”
I nod slowly. “Trusting you doesn’t come easy.”
He smirks, flicking his hair out of his eyes, and the darkness shimmering in his orbs is very mesmerising. “Which is why, once we’re done here, I’m going to research the pair of them. If they’ve even missed a mortgage payment, that’ll raise flags.”
“Why would that be problematic?” Draven asks with a frown.
Caitlin hunches in on herself, her scent softening ever so slightly, to try and make herself a smaller target. Dr Rush steps closer to her, but it’s not like this prey creature could do anything in a room full of predators—mythical predators with no morals, at that.
“It means that they could be open to bribes. So, we’ll do a search and see what we find. And if we do find something… well,” Luc says cheerily. He turns to the mated couple and drags his forefinger across his throat in an aggressive warning. “Dead they’ll be.”
“Lucifer,” Draven snarls, and that’s an even better warning.
“Daddy,” Luc whines, dragging out the ‘a’ sound, and some of the tension drains from Caitlin’s shoulders. Dr Rush doesn’t relax, though.
I should feel guilty.
But, like these men, clearly, my morals aren’t in a good place.
“We’re not bribable, no matter what you are used to,” Dr Rush says evenly.
He wraps his hand around his mate’s wrist, holding her close.
“And we’re under the king’s protection, so let’s not start throwing threats around.
While in this pride, Maeve, you’re safe.
As our patient or another doctor’s—you’re never going to be harmed.
“We’re cared for here. We’re safe. Our species isn’t worried about being attacked by bigger shifters, and nobody would risk going back to that kind of environment.”
“If you say so,” Lucifer drawls, but I understand what they’re saying.
Slightly.
This place… it feels safe to me, too.