Chapter 20 Maeve
MAEVE
“He’s home.”
I shriek. My phone slips from my fingers, bouncing once on the mattress before disappearing onto the floor.
My heart slams against my ribs as I stare at the devil who apparently doesn’t believe in announcing his presence like a normal, law-abiding being.
Lucifer’s dark chuckle fills the room—warm and infuriating in equal measure—curling through the air and tangling with my unsteady breathing.
“So dramatic,” he teases.
“So mean,” I shoot back. “Why are you interrupting my quiet time?”
“Did you miss what I said to cause you to shriek so beautifully?”
“You are deeply unwell if you find shrieks beautiful,” I say sweetly. “But if this is doing something for you, please don’t make me emotionally responsible for your disappointment.”
He snarls, but the humour in his eyes betrays him.
“Grab your phone, so I can go complain to Daddy D about how mean you are.”
I flutter my lashes, smirking at him.
“You’re so emotionally broken, Luc. I’d recommend therapy, but I fear you’re a lost cause.”
His hiss sends me into giggles. I scoop up my phone and follow him out of my bedroom.
He flicks on the passage light as I slide my feet into my heels, then makes quick work of locking my front door. Barely a second later, he’s unlocking Draven’s.
So fucking lucky that he’s this close.
Especially since Lucifer is still quietly seething—or forcing his tiny brain to manufacture a comeback that won’t embarrass him further.
“Hello!” Lucifer calls, leading me through the flat that mirrors my own and into Draven’s sitting room.
My boss is slumped in his armchair, exhaustion written plainly across his face. He hasn’t slept well—either that, or worry has finally caught up with him.
His golden eyes brighten the moment they land on me, and something in his posture shifts.
I grin at him without hesitation.
My chromius unravels from her huff like the needy creature she is.
His grey shirt is wrinkled, sleeves pushed up, collar loosened—casual disarray on a man who still looks like he could dismantle the room if required.
“How are you doing, angel?” he asks, his voice deep and primal enough to raise goosebumps along my arms.
“What the fuck am I? Invisible? Unwanted?” Lucifer demands. “Did you know she said I was mentally unwell?”
“You are,” Hadrian drawls, and I giggle.
The dark pegasus shoots me a wink. He looks far more rested than the others, dressed in dark joggers and a tight T-shirt that shows off his lean, sculpted frame.
Where Draven is big and solid, the Graves men are all sharp lines and athletic grace.
Still impressive, still beautiful, but next to him?
Twigs.
Stop it, Maeve. Why the fuck do you care what they look like?
Julian, meanwhile, looks like he’s dressed to intimidate a boardroom—pressed shirt, blazer, slacks.
I’m usually the most overdressed person in any room, but even here, he’s competing.
And losing.
“You’re looking happy,” Julian says.
“I got to humble your cousin multiple times,” I reply, moving to my usual chair. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Draven’s amazing and has a blanket already covering the leather for me so that I can be as comfortable as possible with things touching me.
I don’t deserve him.
I don’t deserve anything.
I’m worthless.
Dirty. Damaged.
Disgusting.
I shake off my intrusive thoughts.
“How was your flight?” I ask, desperate to distract the others. They’re all watching me, and I don’t want them realising my mind is wandering.
“We took the boat,” Draven says, shaking his head.
I freeze, then slowly turn to face him. “We?”
He didn’t.
Please fucking tell me he didn’t do what I think he did.
Based on the glee radiating from the psychotic imp, I know for a fact he did.
Fucking hell.
“Oh, did I forget to mention he brought Ashford with him?” Lucifer asks, tapping his chin in a picture of fake innocence. “Scream at Daddy, princess, so I don’t have to be the one to get the lecture.”
“Fuck off, Luc,” I snap, dragging my gaze over Draven’s apologetic expression before sighing. “I hate him.”
“We all do,” Julian says flatly.
“We also hate you, baby bro,” Hades adds, smirking. “Maybe make friends with the cat. Enemy of my enemy and all that.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re all on my I-wish-you-were-dead list. He’s just the special one who is on the I-will-personally-put-you-in-the-ground list.”
Draven hums thoughtfully. “Anyone else on that list?”
The question isn’t casual, not even a little bit. The ursarix exchanges a look with the imp, and I know the two of them would happily erase my entire list for me.
“Because,” he continues in that same dry tone, “I’m more than happy to take care of them for you.”
Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps.
Get a hold of yourself, Maeve. He’s offering for himself, not you.
“And that,” I say, pointing at him, “is why you’re my favourite.”
Did his ears just turn red?
“Oh, fuck off, I’d do it, too,” Hades protests. Nobody reacts to his whine.
“I’m assuming I’m on the second list?” Julian asks, his voice tipping into a pathetic whine.
I smirk, and his baby blue eyes fill with hope, so I let the silence stretch.
It’s so much better to ruin his hope than to just deliver the blow.
“No,” I say cheerfully. “You’re on the first. You’re not worth the effort of killing you myself. As long as you’re dead, I’m happy.”
Julian deflates so quickly. Hunching in on himself with a sad aura that hurts.
For a heartbeat, I even feel a flicker of guilt before I force a laugh.
Ugh. Why do I suddenly have a conscience?
It must be because he nearly died.
It must be. I don’t care for him at all.
My chromius hisses at me, and I ignore her. She’s not me, and we all know she’s desperately deluded.
“Well,” Lucifer says brightly, clapping his hands, “that’s excellent news for me. I get to kill my cousin and remain the only Graves man not on the I-wish-you-were-dead list.”
No matter my cruelty, no one pulls away from me for it. Nobody flinches or gets annoyed.
I don’t know why that matters to me so much—but it does.
He beams. “Today really is my day.”
“You’re sadistic,” I repeat, and he laughs.
“Okay, I love that you’re all happy and catching up despite spending all day together, but I’ve got to go in a few, so can we get down to it?” Hadrian demands, inching forward on his chair.
“Down to what?” I ask. Based on the way the four of them exchange looks, I don’t know if I’m just naive or if I’m dumb, because they’re clearly well aware of what’s going on.
I eye the clock, it’s a little past 8 pm, before turning to Draven, as the de facto leader of our group.
“Well?”
He leans back in his chair, and I love how at ease he is, despite also being so dangerous and domineering. He could command the room slumped like this just as easily as he could in a tailored suit with growls and threats.
It’s magnificent.
And something I admire strictly from a professional standpoint.
Obviously.
“Well?” I prompt again because the silence is starting to itch under my skin.
Draven doesn’t rush. He never does.
His fingers remain loosely laced, golden eyes steady as they sweep the room—measuring, weighing, deciding. He already knows where this is going. He’s just choosing how much I can handle.
The same man who just assigned danger like a checklist is now watching me like I’m the most volatile thing in the room—not because I’m weak… but because I matter to him.
My anxiety coils tighter with every second he takes.
“We’re in recon mode now,” Draven says at last, turning that focused gaze on me. “The four of us—”
“Five, if you include the pussy cat,” Lucifer cuts in, grinning.
I grimace, and my chromius lifts her head at once, suddenly very interested in being acknowledged.
Draven continues as if Lucifer never interrupted, never even blinking.
“There are several moving pieces,” he continues calmly. “And we each have our focus.”
“We do?” I echo because this feels like information I should’ve been included in.
And also, what the fuck is my focus? I never picked one or got asked an opinion.
Yet again, I’m not the master of my own life. Just the puppet.
“I’m on task one—the blood,” Hades says easily, winking at Lucifer, who snarls in response.
I raise a brow.
“Oh, don’t mind him,” Hades adds. “He’s pouting because he lost the… selection process.”
“Fucking hell,” Julian mutters, colour draining from his face. “I really wish we’d used a coin toss.”
My chromius is amused, but I have no desire to be involved in that.
“I got the joy of tracking down who took the contract for your little delivery,” Lucifer says, his tone sharp and resentful.
Then he smiles. A dark, grim, psychotic look that’s perfectly him.
His eyes go black instead of blue, and I know that his imp is desperate to play.
Psycho.
My stomach knots at the casual way they discuss it—like hunting out my nightmares is a fun and easy pass time of theirs.
“Hadrian,” Draven says, turning slightly. “You’re going out tonight to get started, right?”
Hades nods once. “I’ve got a scent, a window, and a few people I need to… talk with.”
Ice slides down my spine.
I swallow hard, fear racing through me. Julian eyes his brother warily like he’s seeing him for the first time.
“You’ll be careful.” My words are a demand, icy and cold.
My chromius whines, desperate to go instead of him so she can protect him from whatever is out there.
So ridiculous that she’s infatuated with a liar.
Hades’s mouth curves into a faint smile. “Always.”
Draven’s gaze shifts to Julian next, and the younger Graves stiffens like he’s bracing for impact.
I wouldn’t mind watching Draven put him on the floor, but I know that’s not what he’s going to do.
Sadly.
“I know you offered to go with him,” Draven says evenly. “You’re not needed there.”
Hadrian is smug about this, and I’m intrigued. My worry was that they’ve decided to make decisions about me without me.
But they haven’t.
They’ve just organised themselves.
Julian blinks, eyeing up both his cousin and his brother as if either of them are going to protest. “I’m not?”