Maeve
Rose bushes cast in golden streaks fan out on either side of the illustrious walkway. My heels click against the smooth, alabaster tiles sparkling in the final moments of the sunset illuminating the castle in Crescent Falls in shades of gold and magenta. It’s a work of art. Guards move to the side, bowing their heads as I walk up the stairs, my heart lodged in my throat, my mouth dry from lack of use.
I haven’t had much to say these past few days. I haven’t been able to find the words I need to convey my utter despair–especially to my family.
A butler opens the door and ushers me inside. It’s all very formal, like I’m an honored guest, a diplomat, rather than a family member who’s been to this castle dozens of times over the course of my life, but I’m stuck in autopilot as my footfalls echo, stretching down dimly lit, but modern, hallways that weave throughout the backside of the castle, where the more formal sitting rooms bleed into rooms full of family pictures and knickknacks, and the air still smells like… Great-Grandma Isla.
What would she say if she were still here?
“Maeve!” Maddy exclaims, turning from a bookshelf curving over a massive, but dormant, fireplace. Her deep, stormy blue eyes widen as she gasps a breath. She wasn’t expecting to see me. I didn’t call ahead to let anyone know I’d be here, but I had to come. I just had to.
She hurries to me while I hesitate in the doorway, grabbing my cold, clammy hands in hers, her fingers smooth and warm to the touch.
I can barely look in her eyes.
“I didn’t know you were coming–”
“I’m sorry.” I swallow past the knot tangled painfully in my throat, finally glancing into those wells of deep blue–blue like Sydney's eyes, the father of Blake, now missing indefinitely. Blue like Ryan’s eyes, whose daughter is also missing. Both are Maddy’s grandchildren. No one will mention the words “presumed dead,” at least not within our family circles, but the news is all over it.
All over me.
Maddy caresses my cheek, but I can’t even bring myself to give into her warmth and cry like I want to.
“You’re freezing.”
I sniffle, gently pulling out of her touch. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in Crescent Falls. It’s cold here.”
“Barely,” she whispers, giving me a playfully subdued look before releasing me. “What are you doing here? We had dinner two hours ago, but I can call for a plate–”
I cut her off with a quick shake of my head. “No, please. I’m fine. I came to speak to Marianna. Is she here?”
I already know she is. Within a day of the news that a battle took place on the southern shores of the Deadlands, Marianna, Skye, and Leona were whisked away by Sarah and Sydney, all still reeling over Blake’s disappearance. It’s been a full week. A full week without news of Lexa or Blake.
“She’s upstairs.” Maddy smiles softly as she sinks into an armchair. “She’s been playing her violin every night in the orrery. I think it brings her comfort, and I have to say, I enjoy the music.” She taps her manicured fingers on the armrest before continuing, “We actually have a full house as it stands. Isaac and I came here from Maatua as soon as we heard Sarah had returned with them. We’re staying for a while, as it stands. We’re closer to everyone in Crescent Falls and Eastonia here. Cosette and Artyom decided to take up one of the guest rooms on the third floor for the time being. Cosette homeschooled Blake, you know, for all those years. She’ll be good for Skye, I think, given the circumstances.”
The circumstances being that I had to completely shut down Moonrise. Not just Moonrise, but all of Eastonia is under lock and key with no inkling of if or when I’ll be able to release my iron-clad shields. Skye’s new school won’t be starting this fall as planned. Marianna won’t be raising her violin bow and leading a symphony through the first concert of the season as first chair. Life is at a standstill.
“That’s wise.” I don’t sit. I’m not sure my legs will bend even if I willed them to. “I just came from the Deadlands.”
Maddy looks at the empty fireplace, at the blackened, soot coated bricks. She swallows hard, her gaze falling to her fists in her lap. “How–how are they?”
“Aviva wasn’t there. Ryan had just returned to Silverhide after trying to get her off the beach–” I force the words out as Maddy rises, sensing the pain in my voice. “This is my fault. I sent them there–”
“Aviva is the commanding officer of the faction of your army,” Maddy says as she cautiously approaches me again. “She knew the risks.”
“None of us knew the risks. We don’t know the enemy. It was my order that she sent a regiment to the beach. She sent her best, which included her daughter, and they’re gone. All of them. Along with a quarter of my father’s forces.”
She clutches my wrists. “We trust you.”
“Do not say that to me,” I whisper, my eyes watering. “Please.”
She smoothes a rogue lock of hair out of my eyes. “It must be an immense burden on your shoulders, Maeve. We see it. All of us do. Lexa and Blake will be found.”
I roll my eyes to the ceiling and blink the tears away, letting some of the anger I’ve been beating down the past two weeks slip free, unchained. “Blake better be with her. Wherever he went, whatever he started… he better be with her, or I swear to the gods–”
“Maeve?” Marianna’s surprised exhale forces me to turn to the doorway.
She’s dressed in black–a black sweater, black slacks, her hair pulled back in a tight, neat bun that makes her look… harder. More burdened than I’ve ever seen her. Her dark blue eyes scan mine before she steps deeper into the room, her violin case resting against her thigh.
“Hey,” I manage, but her lower lip trembles. She’s waiting for news. She thinks I’m here to tell her Blake has been found, that we know exactly where he is, but I have nothing.
With my mom in Veiled Valley keeping Brie sane while Logan evacuates his pack from Emberfyll and Soren drumming up an army in the Roguelands as the new Alpha King, with my grandpa Ryatt by his side as added muscle if necessary, I’ve been alone. Just me and Fallon, who better be sleeping right now, likely tucked against Jane’s arm while Patton plays the guitar or whatever the hell he does to calm my baby in a way no one else can. I won’t be gone long. I promised Fallon I wouldn’t be.
But I had to see Marianna to remind myself that Blake still has a human side.
His mark is a smooth, clean crescent moon on her neck.
“Can we talk?” I ask, and Marianna quickly nods, setting her violin case against the doorway. Maddy squeezes my arm and takes her leave, murmuring something about having a tea tray sent to us, but Marianna and I just stare at each other, trying to find common ground in the fault lines between us.
“Is Skye using the spheres?” I ask, my voice cool, monotone. More empty than I anticipated.
“All the time,” Marianna says quietly. She walks to the window, glancing at the sunset spreading shadows over the private parking area and garage before turning to face me, her arms crossed under her chest. “She’s… Sarah has a hold on her powers, keeping them tightly wound, whatever that means. Skye can’t scry for Blake as it stands, but she’s been trying.”
“Sarah hasn’t found him through scrying, either. She told me as much.”
“That’s correct.” Marianna swallows hard, her cheeks a little gray, her eyes lackluster. “I’m not going to stand here and pretend to understand the nitty-gritty details about powers, shields, and veils, but I know this much. I know wherever he is, he’s alive. I know he had something planned down to the most minute detail because that’s how he operates. And I know he’ll come back.” Her eyes meet mine almost in challenge. “He’ll come back because he left a sphere with what I’m sure is the future waiting for us if he’s successful. That was his why. It was why he left us. It was why he left me. But he made you vow to not allow him to come home.”
I wave a hand to cut her off. “If he comes home, and he’s… not himself.”
“But how well do we even know him?” Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “Even me?”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“And now, his cousin is gone, and the dead are adding up. Did he have a hand in what happened in the Deadlands, Maeve?”
Something heavy and bitter twists in my gut. She’s right. Right about her own mate. Blake spent his entire life shielding himself, who he truly was, from us. Marianna was the only person to ever see another side to him–a soft side, a side capable of love–and if she’s questioning his motives…
“Lexa is alive. Her parents can feel it,” I tell her. “I’m confident that wherever she is, wherever she’s been taken and for whatever purpose, he’s there, too. He’ll fix this. I hate to say it, but I believe this attack–Lexa being taken–it was something he saw. Something he knew would happen but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, change.”
“Do you trust him?” she asks. It’s such a complicated question.
“I do. Do you?”
“I know he wouldn’t hurt me or Skye. That’s all I have to hold on to.”
“Don’t blame him for this, Marianna. This is far larger than us, far larger than me.”
My phone buzzes in my purse. It’s likely another commander or diplomat for the many Alpha Kings champing at the bit to get me alone, to get an explanation, a plan. I ignore it for now.
Maddy returns with a tea tray, carrying it in herself, and immediately senses the tension between Marianna and me. She sighs heavily, saying, “I think everyone needs to take a walk and get some fresh air.”
Marianna scrubs her cheeks like tears are trickling there, but her eyes are dry as she turns from the window and hurries out of the room.
Maddy sets the tea tray down with a soft clunk, her eyes downcast on the delicate teacups and kettle. Chamomile scents the air around us, dragging me back down to reality and reminding me of who I am.
“I can’t fix this until I know where they are,” I tell her, using her as a sounding board. “The family is looking at me for direction, and I have no solid answers. All I can do is keep our forces active, our borders tightly secured, and wait.”
“And so we’ll wait,” she says, but I frown.
“It doesn’t feel like enough. You likely heard the conversation I just had with Marianna. She’s doubting her trust in Blake.”
“She’s grieving,” she corrects. “Everything is always upside down when grief is involved. The family knows what to do. We’ve been through this before–worse, actually. You were too young to remember the war in Tarsian, but I said goodbye to everyone–to my mate. To your mother, to the mates of my sons, to my daughter.” Her voice turns pained at the mention of Misty, who, like Lexa, found herself trapped in a new place, surrounded by violence.
“What do you think Lexa’s doing right now?” I ask, and Maddy, to my surprise, smirks–an expression I rarely see from her.
“Making whoever took her regret it would be my guess.”
“What do you think Blake is doing? These are your grandchildren. You’d know better than anyone on my side of the family.”
“Blake is doing what he’s always done best,” she says with a heavy, but somewhat proud, sigh. “Manipulating everyone around him to bend to his will.”