Chapter 25 Draven #2
Her venom shouldn’t be as attractive as it is—shouldn’t be able to affect me the way it does. But it drags me straight back to the first time I saw her.
An angel of vengeance. All teeth and judgment.
“I’m sorry, but who even are you?” the water buffalo demands, irritation creeping into his tone. “Why call us over if you’re just going to obstruct protocol? Would you rather risk our lives by ignoring procedure and not acknowledging the most powerful shifter present?”
I growl low and final, turning my glare onto the man. “Maeve is far more powerful than I am.”
Not least because she can also command me.
I’m her weapon. A blade she can use without ever dirtying her hands.
She doesn’t need to worry.
My pretty mate scoffs, tossing her hair over her shoulders.
“I called you over to do your job,” Maeve says coolly. “These men made explicit sexual remarks, issued numerous threats, and when asked to leave us be, they doubled down. Excuse me for fearing for my virtue.”
The fox opens his mouth again—of course, he does—but I step forward just enough that my shadow swallows him whole.
He snaps it shut.
That’s not the only thing that’ll be getting snapped tonight. I just need to get Maeve home safe first. Then they’ll pay.
All of them.
“That’s a serious accusation,” the boar shifter says, slower now, his gaze flicking between us. He’s measuring my investment.
Fool. I’ll always be on her side.
“Do you have witnesses?”
My list just got longer.
Maeve laughs—soft, almost sweet—but I feel her chromius stir beneath it, the bloodthirsty aura blooming from the defenceless creature within.
They pushed her far enough that her other half stepped forward to protect her.
That’s my failure.
“Oh, darling,” she says lightly, gesturing around us, “do you really think men like this only act like this in private?”
She rolls her eyes.
“They’re cowards. They could never be so brave on their own. No, these dickless fucks rely on the crowd. On the noise to cover their pathetic words. On women not wanting to cause a scene so they can get away with it.”
Her eyes lock onto the fox again, and I want to reach for her, but I can’t.
I won’t claim what she hasn’t offered. I won’t force a bond she’s refused.
“You said I looked tight because I hadn’t been fucked properly,” Maeve continues evenly. “That my mouth was going to be useful. And you”—she tilts her head towards the tiger—“said I should be grateful you were interested at all.”
The tiger goes pale.
The fox straightens, forcing bravado. “You’re twisting—”
“No,” Maeve cuts him off calmly. “I’m remembering exactly right. A used-up slut, right? Well, you’re not wrong on that count, at least.”
The words land heavier than any shout ever could.
She takes a single step forward, and the space shifts, all five of us completely locked onto her, every breath caught in her orbit.
She’s radiating power—beauty, purity, and venom. It’s alluring. It’s dangerous.
It’s soul-fucking-confirming.
My ursarix hums low in my chest.
“You think you know me,” Maeve says quietly, her voice edged like glass. “That I’m just another pretty little airhead who fits your type.”
She tilts her head, eyes cold.
“But I can guarantee you that not a single woman you’ve ever fucked has felt safe.”
The silence that follows is brutal. Their faces mirror each other—shock, then misery.
“I can promise you that they have regretted every filthy touch they endured from you,” she continues, unblinking. “And the lucky ones?”
Her smile sharpens, and she holds the fox’s gaze without blinking.
“The ones who laughed at you. Mocked your weaselly advances. Walked away while you cried like the little bitch you are?” She pauses. “They sleep easier at night. Because they know they can defend themselves when it matters.”
My ursarix rumbles in approval. But just because my mate can handle herself doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t absolve them.
“So,” the water buffalo says flatly, “you called us over because you were scared—and instead, you’ve made yourself the problem.”
He’s dead.
Not now. Not here.
But it’s decided.
He’ll lose his job. His security. His family’s respect.
And then—his pride.
Once Atticus hears about this, he’ll never spend another minute in these lands.
“I didn’t call for you to come rescue me because I was scared of these idiots,” she argues, and I step closer, unable to resist the call in her voice.
Her chromius is so powerful, so intoxicating. The potency of her allure burning through my veins.
“I called you,” she continues, “to get rid of them. Before someone else does.”
The water buffalo exhales sharply through his nose before nodding his head.
“Sir,” he says to the fox, voice cold now, “you’ll both come with us.”
“This is bullshit,” the fox snaps, panic bleeding through it. “She’s exaggerating. She’s—”
“She’s leaving, too,” the boar cuts in, glancing at me with something close to apology. “We don’t need drama like this. But if what she says is true, you’re leaving first.”
If.
The boar has sealed his own grave, too. What an incompetent fucking cunt to doubt her word.
To doubt anyone. How can he be the public face of security when he doesn’t trust a woman whose only claim was that someone was rude?
The tiger backs away without being told.
As they’re escorted out by the water buffalo, the fox twists his head back toward her one last time, spitting venom. “Bitch.”
Maeve smiles.
“People always think that the dark is the scariest place to be,” Maeve murmurs, turning to look up at me. “But that’s only because they ignore the fact that the real monsters—the truly dangerous ones—are the ones who don’t see a reason to hide.”
Her gaze is steady, unwavering in her conviction.
“Because, to them, they’re not doing a single thing wrong. But to people like me? We know the truth. We know that the worst monsters of all are the ones who wear human faces and pretend they know how to live amongst us.”
The boar clears his throat. “Mr Westfall. Miss.” He pauses and dips his head ever so slightly. Some respect, finally. “We’ll file a report and make sure that they’re watched carefully.”
“Oh, yes, because a bit of paper and another set of eyes is all it will take to stop predators like him harming the patrons of your club,” Maeve snarls, her icy blue eyes burning with her fury.
“What good are men like you when you give people like them grace? When you stand there silently, you’re giving them permission to behave the way they are. ”
He opens his mouth to argue with her.
Fucking fool.
“Don’t,” I warn, my voice dropping into something barely human.
He closes it.
“We’re parked in the staff car park,” I add. “Take us there.”
“Staff?” The boar pales slightly, and Maeve grins.
“Oh, yes, sorry, did we forget to mention that we’re here as the VIPs of your lovely, sweet boss, Mr Black?”
“Sweet?” A flash of fear coats the boar’s face.
Maeve catches it and twists the knife so very beautifully.
She’s a master of manipulation when she wants to be.
“Ah, yes, you’re right. Sweet wasn’t the right word. More like… perpetually angry and always in need of a target.”
Her smile turns razor-thin.
“I can’t wait to let him know what I think of the security in his club.”
She tilts her head, an expression of faux consideration on her face.
“You know, I’ll probably have to let Alpha Phoenix know how unsafe I felt tonight—as a rare mythical shifter—under your watch. I’m a commodity around here, you know?”
If I wasn’t so angry, I’d laugh. With nothing but her words, my mate has this burly man ready to piss himself in fear.
No threats. Not even a true insult. She’d be lethal in politics.
Good thing she’s standing beside me.
We’re escorted through the now-crowded club. I move automatically, placing myself between Maeve and the press of bodies, guiding her along the wall where no one can reach her.
It isn’t until we hit the cold night air of the car park that she exhales, her shoulders loosening just a fraction.
I lean down, close enough that only she can hear me.
“You okay?”
She looks up at me, something dangerous flickering beneath her composure. I don’t know what emotion she’s burying, and I think it’s good that I don’t.
Because the only thing keeping the bear leashed right now is willpower.
And her.
If she loosens her hold, who knows what will happen.
I love her. That’s what this ache is. This desperation.
I love her more than words can say—more than I can even process.
If she wants them dead, I’ll do it without hesitation.
“I’m okay,” she says quietly.
And it doesn’t even smell like a lie.
“Idon’t need your ice queen sticking her nose in my shit,” Torin snaps, pacing the length of my living room.
His aura thickens the air—sharp, and invasive—but I stay seated in the armchair like this is nothing more than a dull inconvenience to my Friday night.
As if my blood isn’t boiling with rage.
As if I’m not one careless second away from snapping his neck just to get to what actually matters.
Maeve is safe. That’s the only reason he’s still breathing.
She’s at Hadrian’s flat with him and Julian. I didn’t want to leave her—not at first.
Not when she kept getting quieter the farther we drove. Not when she shut down so completely I couldn’t even get a read on what she was feeling.
She was fracturing, and I could do fucking nothing to help her.
Her fear lingered in the air sharp enough to keep my adrenaline screaming. Nothing drives a bear’s baser instincts more than his mate in fear.
Nothing.
I lift a brow at the muttering from the pantheral.
“You need someone who can untangle languages older than you can trace your lineage,” I say mildly. “That narrows the list considerably.”
“She’s a liability,” Torin growls. “Arrogant, brittle, and from what I’ve seen, she’s already tangled herself in more Tribunal drama than she can ever crawl out of. Maeve is going to fuck everything up, Drav, and you know it. I can’t rely on her, not for this.”