Maeve
Snow was falling in thick, heavy sheets as we walked along the dock, our footsteps absorbed into the vacuum of total and complete silence that accompanied such weather. I could barely see the village through the snow, just hints of the multi-colored cabins that were nestled near the shore. The snow was heavy, sliding from the tal roofs as the cabins ward within and wood-smoked funneled through chimneys.
My steps felt unsteady as I walked, not used to being on solid ground after five weeks at sea. The journey took longer than we expected, having t bad weather as we passed through the Isles and various challenges with the boat as we crept through the ice filled water of the north-eastern coastline. There had been a few tis we had almost given up, debating whether to turn west and seek refuge in Breles, unsure of what awaited us if we stayed east and landed in Valoria.
But none of that mattered anymore.
I was ho.
I stopped at the edge of the dock where the wide-plank floorboards t the rocky trail leading back to the village. I rember stopping here before, but on the other side, looking out over the port at the seaplane idling on the water, waiting to take to Mirage, to my destiny.
Would I have still gone if I knew what was in store for ?
Troy had said sothing to , but his words vanished into the snow. I looked up, seeing a darkened figure standing on the bluff just above the port. I imdiately knew it was my dad.
Troy fell behind as I walked forward, the snow piling around my ankles as I trudged up the slope leading into the village. I watched my feet, unsure of what to do or say when I faced him. I knew Dad was matching my pace. He always had. He had never let get too far ahead of him or fall too far behind.
He was waiting for at the top of the slope where the gravel road began. I could just make out his face in the dim light cast by the porch lights of the nearby cabins. His hair was wild, much longer than when I had last seen him. Snowflakes were sticking to his beard and eyelashes. His face was expressionless.
“Hi, Dad,” I said softly, biting the inside of my lower lip. I didn’t realize I had my arms wrapped beneath my belly before I felt a wave of sha wash over , causing to tuck my chilled fingers into the pockets of the oversized wool coat I was wearing.
“Hey, kid,” he breathed, and the briefest hint of a smile touched his cheek and was gone before I could even blink.
I stared at him, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to will myself to speak. He tilted his head, his eyes creasing against the silent tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “Where’ve you been? It’s been a long ti—”
I ran to him, throwing my arms around him as he curled his body around mine, locking in a warm embrace. I didn’t try to stifle the sobs as I broke down, clinging to his jacket so hard my nails left marks in the leather.
“It’s okay,” he said into my hair, resting his cheek against the top of my head. “It’s fine. You’re ho now.”
“I’m ho,” I mumbled against his jacket, the words barely audible. “Where’s Mom?”
“She is at the house, asleep.”
“Oh,” I said weakly, a fresh wave of my tears soaking into his jacket as I pressed my face against his chest. She was alive. She was still alive.
“We need to talk about—” Dad paused, his body going rigid with tension.
I squeezed him harder, knowing he had spotted Troy, who had likely just reached the top of the slope and was in full view of Dad. I turned my head to look over my shoulder at Troy, giving him a weak smile. He gave one of his signature crooked smiles, but then he shifted his gaze toward the road, his brow furrowing as he began to slowly lower our bags onto the ground.
I peeked over Dad’s arm just in ti to witness a blurred figure sprint by, stopping in front of Troy in a spray of snow, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“You get one shot,” Troy said slowly, letting go of our bags and straightening to his full height. “Because I deserve it.”
Rowan wound his arm back and punched Troy cleanly in the jaw. Troy shook his head, spitting blood into the snow before looking back up at Rowan. He caught Rowan’s hand in his as Rowan attempted to swing at him again, and arched his brow. “I said one!”
“Troy!” I squeaked, but Dad promptly shushed , an odd look in his eyes as he watched Troy and Rowan start to beat the living hell out of each other in the middle of the road.
“You have a lot of explaining to do, Maeve,” Dad said, continuing to watch the fight. He grimaced when Rowan reared back and headbutted Troy in the nose, and then arched his brow, slightly impressed, when Troy put Rowan in a headlock in return, forcing Rowan to his knees.
“You’re enjoying this,” I hissed, trying to free myself from his embrace.
He chuckled silently, his chest vibrating as he loosened his grip on .
“This is really the guy, then?”
“I love him,” I said bluntly and with enough force to draw Dad’s attention away from the fight.
He stared at , searching my eyes for understanding. “I know,” he replied, his voice soft and calm against the sounds of Troy and Rowan fighting in the background of what could have been a sweet father-daughter mont.
I turned away from Dad to glare at the two idiots behind , losing my patience. “We get it, you’re very strong and manly!” I snapped.
Troy was flat on his back, his leg wrapped around one of Rowan’s and his arms pinning Rowan’s arms to his side. Troy had taught that move, sothing he called a sweep, and I knew he was only monts away from flipping Rowan onto his stomach and holding him down until he tapped out.
Troy imdiately released Rowan from his hold on him at my words and my dad’s steely gaze, but Rowan used that to his advantage, turning on Troy and continuing the match.
“They’re enjoying themselves,” Dad said beneath his breath, tilting his head as he watched them continue to roll through the snow and murmur curses. “I used to be young once, you know. I used to do... whatever it is they’re doing.”
Rowan had t his physical match in Troy, and had resorted to throwing snowballs to ward off any further attacks, one of them hitting Troy squarely in the chest where his wound was. I flinched as I watched Troy double over, holding his hand out in montary surrender. It had healed well over the past several weeks, but was still tender.
“Are you mad at ?” I asked Dad, not daring to look at him.
He was still for a mont, then shrugged, shaking his head as he rested his chin on the top of my head. “There’s nothing to be mad about. Are you upset with , though?”
“Why would I be upset with you?”
“I didn’t find you.”
I didn’t know what to say. I could hear the hurt in his voice as he spoke, and my eyes began to water as I turned my focus back on Troy and Rowan, who were, of course, back to throwing punches, although it was obvious they were beginning to tire.
I almost said I hadn’t wanted him to find , spilling my long-held anxieties about the idea of him, and Mom, falling into Damian’s trap. I swallowed my words, resting my head against his arm as we watched Troy and Rowan. I shifted my gaze to the side, catching Pete out of the corner of my eye. He was standing still with his backpack sliding off of his shoulder and onto his arm.
He dropped it into the snow as he took a single step toward the blonde woman standing in front of him, facing him. She was wearing nothing but a plush bathrobe and flannel pajama pants, her hair knotted in a loose bun on the top of her head, ruffled from sleep. Pete took her hand.
“How is this possible?” I whispered to myself, watching them with interest. We had been in Winter Forest for ten whole minutes and Pete had found his mate.
“You’re shivering,” Dad said as he wound his arm around my shoulder and turned toward the village, our house in the distance blanketed in snow and perched on the hill overlooking the village. “Let’s go ho.”
“Okay,” I replied, too overwheld to argue that we should break Rowan and Troy up first.
We walked past Pete and the blonde woman, and I couldn’t help but stare. Neither of them looked at us as we passed by, but I recognized her–Kacidra, Aaron’s twin sister, who I had only t the one ti their family had visited Winter Forest ten years ago. I opened my mouth to ask Dad what she was doing here but was interrupted by Dad’s voice drifting through the chilled, snowy air.
“There’s a lot we need to discuss.”
“I–I know.”
“Sothing happened while you were gone—”
“It was Mom, wasn’t it?”
Dad was silent, but his arm was still resting over my shoulders as we walked, his hand squeezing my arm in response to my question.
He would’ve told if she were dead. Dad wouldn’t lie to and tell she was sleeping if she was dead. Rowan’s focus wouldn’t have been on Troy. He wouldn’t have even cared about Troy if Mom had died while I was away.
We were nearing the house, the gates to the compound just visible as we turned the corner and started walking up the driveway. A light was on in the living room, setting the deck above the garage alight in a safe yellow glow.
I felt like I was just here, like I had just been standing beneath the shelter of the deck while the first spring rain pounded against the floorboards above my head, going over the proposal my Dad had pitched to only monts before. Go to Mirage. Give the pack of Drogomor an heir. Rule as Luna.
Be a mother.
I stopped walking just as we reached the gate, unable to step forward. Dad removed his arm, turning to .
“Alpha Damian is dead,” I said without thinking, staring blankly at the woodgrain on the garage door.
“How?”
“A friend of mine killed him. When we were... it doesn’t matter.”
“We don’t have to talk about it right now. It’s the middle of the night.”
A silence passed between us as I continued to stare forward, feeling lightheaded. “Okay—”
“Co inside, Maeve. Sleep. Sleep in your own bed.” Dad shuffled his feet, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked up at the living room. “I’ll tell your mom you’re ho in the morning.”
“Is she hurt?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the ground and reached up to wipe my nose on my jacket sleeve. “How badly?”
“Maeve, please—”
“Maeve?”
I looked up as a figure stepped out of the garage, her face shadowed by the deck above her head. I took one cautious step towards the gate, my hands trembling as I reached up to push it open.
“Ge–Gemma?”
Gemma reached along the wall on the side of the house and flipped the switch, flooding the driveway in light. I almost passed out, my vision going blurry as I swayed, Dad catching before my knees buckled.
“Goddess, Maeve, are you alright?” Gemma ca forward, patting a bundle of blankets against her shoulder.
I gasped, thinking I was going to pass out a second ti as I clung to my dad for support.
“I told you we have a lot to discuss,” Dad grunted as he put his arm around , practically dragging through the gate as I gaped at Gemma.
Gemma smiled at , her eyes shining with tears.
“You were pregnant?!” I cried over Dad’s shoulder as he took through the side door next to the garage that Gemma had co out of.
Tears were rolling down her cheeks as her mouth stretched into a desperate, disbelieving smile, nodding her head as she followed us inside, her baby starting to fuss as she shifted the bundle in her arms.
“Is Troy with you?” she asked, her voice filled with longing.
“He’s wrestling with Rowan in the village,” I panted as Dad tried to coax up the stairs.
He was growing frustrated and turned to Gemma, giving her a cold look.
“Maeve, I already told you once—”
“I can’t believe you’re here. All—all this ti we thought—” I stamred.
“Ernest is here too, Maeve. We both got out. I have so much to tell you!”
“That’s enough, both of you!”
“Dad, just—”
I heard footsteps in the house above us as Dad guided up the stairs, his hand pushing gently on my lower back. I was already in shock, but it was amplified by the voices of Aunt Georgia and Aunt Vicky chattering in the hallway, their voices lifted in surprise.
Suddenly, I was surrounded by family, people that at several points during the past months I thought I would never see again. I barely had ti to catch my breath before Georgia had out of my coat, and Vicky was fussing over , fluffing the snow from my hair with tears in her eyes as Georgia took my hands, turning them over in her own as they inspected fully.
“Does Rosalie know?” Gemma’s voice cut through the fray, and I turned my head toward her, catching a glimpse of the infant resting in her arms. He was dressed in a soft blue onesie, his chubby fist stuffed into his perfect mouth. I burst into tears.
“Leave her alone, everyone—Georgia, stop! She needs to go to bed—” Dad was struggling against the crowd that was surrounding us, which had grown by three as my cousins had been roused from sleep, their blonde curls lopsided and full of static.
“Ethan? What’s going on?”
Everyone stopped moving and the hallway was bathed in silence. Kat, my youngest cousin, tugged on Vicky’s sleeve, rubbing her eyes as Vicky quietly scooped the young girl into her arms.
I walked between Dad and Georgia as though in slow motion, entering the main foyer and turning to look up the staircase that led to the second floor. Mom was standing at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing for support.
“Is it really you?” she said, her voice trembling.
I opened my mouth to reply, choked from tears, just as Dad walked past and began to walk up the stairs.
“Rosalie, this has to wait—”
“Maeve? Are you really here?”
“I’m here, Mama.” I said, my voice shaking as I began to crumble.
The conversations had started up again the hallway outside the door to the stairway to the garage as Rowan entered the house, tossing our bags into the foyer as he argued with Gemma and Troy, who were fielding an onslaught of questions from Georgia and Vicky.
I looked back up at Mom, shaking my head in disbelief.
“I’m ho.”
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