Chapter 15 Draven #3
Not where Maeve is concerned.
When it comes to protecting her, I have the Graves men on my side, too.
Well—Luc and Hades. Julian’s useless.
The dark pegasus is decent, but the imp is terrifyingly lethal.
“We know, princess,” Lucifer says. “Do you need me to intervene?”
“Could you?” she asks, raising a brow. She blows out a frustrated breath before he can reply.
“No, don’t worry about it. I can suck it up. I’ve been more powerful than her for a while now, so other than being a nuisance, she can’t actually force me—”
“Force you?” Torin demands, stepping closer to her. His energy is dangerous now, tantalising to my ursarix. “She’s been forcing you to do what?”
“Endure her twisted version of therapy.” Maeve shrugs, and I know she seems unbothered, but her scent gives her away. She’s hurt—violated, even.
Once again, the people meant to help her didn’t bother.
They let her down.
Adrian had the chance to help my mate. He chose not to.
I won’t be blamed for what happens to the unicorn if he dares try to harm her again.
Maeve is my mate.
My angel.
My soul.
I won’t let anyone harm her if I can help it.
Not ever.
Not again.
“It’s fine. I know how to play her game now,” Maeve adds brightly. Too brightly. “Hopefully, we get some answers, but if not, I’ll survive it. I always do.”
“Survival isn’t the metric you should aim for, maelstrom,” Torin says darkly.
“And what is?” She raises a brow, holding her breath while she waits for the answer.
Torin growls low, and goosebumps rise across her bare skin. Her scent spikes—startled, confused, instinctive. Her gorgeous eyes dilate, and her breathing speeds up.
There’s something here between the two of them. It’s obvious.
Well—to everyone except them.
Maeve doesn’t realise it, but her chromius knows.
They’re mates.
Fucking hell.
How many is she going to have?
“Power,” he says. “Survival is what you do when you have none.”
“A very political answer,” Lucifer says. “I don’t think Maeve’s ever going to be the power-hungry sort, though.”
“So, what do you think she should aim for, devil?” Torin crosses his arms, eyes narrowing at the imp.
“Happiness,” I answer before Lucifer even opens his mouth.
Maeve’s blue eyes snap to mine, and I hold her gaze. “You’re not aiming to survive, angel. You want to be happy. At peace. You need your soul to be content.”
She doesn’t move. Barely even breathes. It’s just us, suspended in this small, impossible bubble as time itself stills.
Her delicious scent.
Her beautiful smile.
Her open vulnerability.
A gift I don’t deserve.
“Well, that’s a bleak outlook,” Julian says, slicing the moment clean in half.
I clench my fists at my side, as Maeve drops her gaze, and our moment shatters.
Selfish fucking pegasus.
His entitlement pisses me off. But for him to stoop as low as to ruin our time…
Maybe I just kill her entire mating circle, and then we can start fresh.
She’d hate me for that.
“Didn’t we have a purpose for this little meet and greet?” Hades asks through a yawn.
“Maybe get some fucking manners before talking,” Lucifer snaps. “You’re a disgrace.”
Maeve giggles. “Come on, Luc, you can’t be mad that he’s tired.”
Lucifer raises a brow. “None of us slept well last night, princess. He doesn’t get to sit here yawning when he’s had the most sleep.”
“Piss off with that. Jules here took that mantle with all of his napping yesterday,” Hades protests.
“I was injured,” the light pegasus argues. “I’m still injured. I can’t help that rest speeds my healing.”
He’s not wrong. Plus, him being asleep means I don’t need to deal with his whiny voice.
“Excuses, excuses,” Lucifer taunts. “The pair of you are weak. Get a coffee and be an adult.”
“So, I’m a child because I yawned?” Hades sneers at his cousin.
I roll my eyes. These three could start a literal war over a fucking sneeze.
Torin meets my gaze, and I can see the mirth there. He raises a brow—asking silently if I’m going to intervene.
I shake my head and tilt my chin towards Maeve, who’s quietly entertained. That softens his eyes, even as the rest of his face stays hardened.
Yeah. They’re mates. Fated. Destined. Soul bound.
It’s painfully obvious now.
It explains why he’s snapping at shadows like a feral street cat.
I hope he realises that the more he pushes her away, the harder it’s going to be for him in the long run.
And the more he hurts her…
“I wanted to get on the same page about everything,” Julian says, dragging us all back to the conversation. “I’m here on the compound thanks to Adrian’s witch-hunt, and I think if we all understand the what’s of everything, it’ll keep us on the same… page.”
I notice the eager look in Torin’s eyes, and I can’t help the distrust that flickers through me. I would trust Torin with my life, but my secrets?
Not unless he owes me a favour. Torin’s word is his law. But the fucker deals in secrets and bribes far more than he does the truth.
“You’ve got an obsession with pages,” Maeve says, earning another round of laughter. “What do you mean by his witch-hunt?”
Torin’s scent spikes—intrigued, curious—and they all pause. The three Graves men turn towards him in surprise, likely having forgotten that he’s their supposed enemy.
That’s their downfall. The moment they realise there’s a mate bond, they let their guards down.
I was trusted far too easily, but that’s fine because I’d never do anything to hurt my angel.
The light pegasus, on the other hand, has been living in this compound with his twisted uncle for far too long to not be affected.
And now they’re here making the same mistake with Torin. But where Julian may have ulterior motives—Torin absolutely does.
Fucking idiots need to find their brain cells.
“Hm, maybe we don’t talk about this in front of the council scum,” Hades says, peering at Torin curiously.
“Probably for the best,” I admit, and Torin’s face twists with anger. “At the end of the day, T, you’ve made it clear Maeve’s interests are not yours.”
“Does she have any worthwhile interests?”
There’s that insinuation again—her worthlessness. I bite my inner cheek hard enough to draw blood to stop the burning retort from passing my lips.
Maeve hums and grins. “No. Well, not if you don’t count dismantling the entire Graves family, committing treason, and figuring out how to get away with murder?”
“That last one is easy, pretty princess. I’ll do it for you.”
My angel winks at him.
“We’ll get on the same page once we’re home, Baby Brother, don’t worry,” Hades says, flipping Torin off when the panther snarls.
Julian grumbles but leans back in the chair, already eager to relax now that he no longer has to share any of his dark secrets.
“Does this mean I get to go to bed, then, since we’re not doing anything important?” Maeve asks, exhaustion dragging at every word.
“Of course, I get called childish for yawning, but I bet Luc’s going to offer to tuck you in,” Hades moans.
I’d smack him if he weren’t teasing.
“Go nap,” Lucifer says softly. “We’ll look after ourselves.”
“So much for not touching my things,” she mutters.
My angel is unsteady when she stands, and I have to fight with my ursarix to stop him from taking over.
He’s desperate to help her. To carry her to bed. To cuddle her against us and offer the safety she’s never had. To give her love and protection.
Pathetic fucking creature.
But I can’t argue against the connection that my mate needs.
Touch burns her. But it’s also the thing that will save her.
The universe is far too fucking cruel. Sadistic, some would say.
We’re quiet as Maeve heads out of the room, and when Julian goes to open his mouth, I glare at the fucker hard enough he thinks twice.
Until her bedroom door shuts, and I know she’s safe, I want to listen.
My angel is wrecked. We might not be able to touch her, but if she stumbles, if she falls, hell, if she breathes wrong… I want to know.
I want to be there.
Just in case.
A loud scream ricochets through the house. It’s sharp, terrified, and so fucking hers.
I’m out of my seat before anyone else even twitches. I’ve never moved this fast in my entire life, but my ursarix is pushing me up the stairs, a primal force shoving through my bones, driving me to our mate.
She’s terrified.
Her shriek echoes through my soul, the bond snapping tight and dragging me to her like a leash around my throat.
Or heart.
We can’t ignore this kind of pull—not when protection is what we were created for in the first place.
I come to a stop at the top of the stairs, my heart pounding against my ribs.
She’s on her knees, tears pouring down her face.
I’m more careful now as I approach since I can smell we’re alone.
Well—that and a shit ton of fucking blood.
“Angel—” My voice breaks, but I catch it before she can hear.
She’s sobbing, her hands gripping the carpet, and I wish I could erase the fear from her scent.
That I could take this pain away from her.
I crouch down beside her, careful and controlled, as I hold back the beast within.
Every single instinct is telling me to lift her into my arms and get her out of here.
But I can’t.
“Are you hurt, angel?” I murmur.
She shakes her head. Looking up at me with tears in her blue eyes, she sniffles.
It breaks something inside me.
My bear roars, claws scraping against my skull. She’s fucking terrified.
And I’m murderous.
I nod, biting back the instinct to kiss her temple, and stand.
My jaw is tight, tension thrumming through me in equal amounts as adrenaline.
I gesture for the slow, lazy fucks to follow me inside.
Her room… it’s been destroyed.
Her bed is drenched in blood. The smell is rancid, thick, clinging to the air. It’s disgusting, but also powerful.
I inhale again, forcing my ursarix to focus past the panic. I can smell the shifter beneath it all—canine, maybe a wolf, but different somehow.
Some type of mythical wolf shifter, then.
“What the fuck?” Torin whispers, his eyes darting over the destruction.