Peter’s POV

I slam the door like it’s made of steel, not ice, and I don’t wait to see if it survives it. I race across my room until I slam up against my largest trunk, the one I haven’t touched since I unpacked everything.

Everything but the things I need the most right now.

My fingers shake as they claw at the thick clasps.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

My ears ring, blood rushing through them so fast it hurts, but I ignore the ache just like I try to ignore the cause of it smeared all over my arms. Try. Try and fail, because it’s everywhere, rising around me in copper lines, cinnamon, and him.

The trembling worsens, my body eager to surrender, but I don’t let it— can’t. Goddess, I can’t.

The clasps give, and a sigh shudders out of me like a cry. My hands disappear past the open lid for the soap I wasn’t supposed to need for at least another three months. I’d packed it as a precaution, medicine for my anxious brain, but as I pull it free, it is my saviour.

I slide into the bathroom, and even though I was just here, scrambling to get ready under Maeve’s timer, I start all over again as if I wasn’t. I turn the shower on, strip myself bare, grab the soap and… hesitate.

Water sprays down, muffling the sound of my rushed breaths and splattering against the single foot resting inside my stall.

Peter — Joseph whispers. My name becomes a warning, a question, and a mountain of understanding. You need to get in.

My breaths come faster. I know.

I don’t move.

Peter — he tries, softer this time.

I know — I whimper, but I can’t

I know I have to, I know that, but… I lift my gaze. My stomach turns automatically at the sight of the blood. It’s everywhere, covering my arms like a tattered sleeve, but it’s not just anyone’s blood.

Peter — Joseph whines, trembling now because he knows that he won’t be any better if he comes forward.

My heart pounds, beating faster and harder until it hurts while I stare unblinkingly at the printed lines that relay the ridges of the fingers that’d just held me so tightly, so close.

They’re written all over me, already drying in the places he’d clung to the longest, but over my wrists…

My breaths flag out of me, adding to the steam that claims the bathroom with a quickness. It’s a meagre cover of the scent that plumes from me all over again, but it hides the fingers that cling to the shower walls while I fight not to sink to my knees.

My mind does it for me, crumbling from every corner as my mate’s scent sinks deeper to claim me even here.

I have to get in.
If I don’t, they’ll all know. Some probably did already. They’d smell the traces left in the tunnels, put two and two together, and that was embarrassing enough, but if I didn’t need to make it worse, then I needed to get in and wash it all away.

My body remains stone still, betraying me, and leaving me no other choice but to watch my mate’s blood dry over my scent glands.

It’s more than just on me now. It’s inside of me, trampling over my own scent, and it is heaven. It all had been— his scent, his touch, his presence, and the weight of him standing above me, half-naked, and draped in blood and gold.

Legs trembling, I close my eyes and try to breathe past the lust, but it’s like he’s still here, standing in the steam with me, daring me to get in. It’s too easy to picture him, the wide plains of his naked chest in front of me, the scent of his sweat, his exertion, his strength.

I had always known that Luciel was strong. There’d never been any doubt about that, but to feel it…

To know the strength locked within his body by the way he held me. It had only been a portion of it, but it had enough… more than enough.

I always thought that I didn’t need that— that I didn’t follow the natural instincts that pushed me to seek out the strongest to protect me. It was important, but not everything.

But that was before Luciel covered me in his blood and left me wanting nothing more than to sink to my knees.

His eyes conjure in my mind, but not the ones that had first stopped me, or the searching gaze I’d found when he’d forced me to meet them. What comes is how he’d looked at me last.

I looked back after he’d told me to run, instincts demanding that I do.

Red had stared back at me. Glowing red eyes as predatory as the fangs he bared before turning around.

Slick pours from my hole, and I shove myself beneath the water before it can hit the floor.

──────────✧──────────

I’ve made myself one with the covers by the time Maeve knocks.

There’s no question it’s her, but I don’t move. I don’t think I’ll ever move again, let alone face another person.

“Peter,” she calls when I don’t answer. “Peter… Do not make a steward of me.”

“I-I’m not h-hungry,” I call back in barely a whisper, but somehow she still hears it.

“Good, because I am not a cupbearer either.”

Another day, I’d laugh. Today, I tug the covers closer to me.

I’m not sure exactly how much time has passed since my trainwreck of a morning, but I know most of the day is gone. I had planned to spend it in the library again, but if I didn’t have to see another soul until my second Trial, then that would be perfectly okay with me.

“You could at least come make your rejections at the door,” Maeve calls, stewarding guilt towards me even though she said she doesn’t do that. She brings it right to my doorstep, literally, and I have no strength to fight it as it drags me from under the covers.

“There you are,” she sighs as I peel the door open a smidge, my eyes glued to the floor.

I had gotten better at looking at Maeve, or the general area of her face, but after today, my gaze sticks to the floor— the floor where two pairs of boots currently aim my way.

They’re familiar.
One Maeve’s. The other’s—

My head snaps up. Luciel stares back at me from beside Maeve, eyes no longer red.

The door slams shut to cut off my gasp.

What is he doing here?!? — Joseph shrieks, rising quickly only to buckle as panic takes us hostage, and sends our heart racing back towards the sky.

I don’t know! — I whine, shuffling away from the door, eyes already searching for the best hiding place before they follow me inside.

“That was… not what I was expecting,” Maeve murmurs, but I don’t wait to hear the rest. I’m in the closet, and tugging the doors shut behind me before I know it.

I bury my face in my knees and silently scream into them as embarrassment finds me anyway.

He wasn’t supposed to be here! I wasn’t supposed to see him again, not so soon, or after today! I was supposed to want to die a little less before I saw him again, but he’s here, all fully clothed and pristine, and put together as if I don’t know what he looks like when he’s not.

PETER! NO! — Joseph scolds, flooding our head with images of Mr Fluff when he was sad before I can get excited.

My scream turns real, and I try to muffle it while I wrap my arms around myself. Why doesn’t Nikola’s spell work against life-threatening embarrassment?

You don’t mean that — Joseph denies. It just feels terrible now. In like a month, it’ll be a memory that wakes us up in the night, and nothing more.

My scream turns into a sob.

A muffled knock sounds at the door, this one softer than the first, but somehow I know it’s still Maeve’s.

“Peter,” she calls again, the space between us somehow making her sound softer. “It is just me now.”

My heart gives, relief pouring into me like spilt honey. I drink it in until my breaths slow and stop puffing out of me like a ragged muffler.

“I did not realise that it should have been before,” she continues after a moment. “He wanted to speak to you.”

Nerves and excitement whirl inside of me until I feel sick.

Luciel wanting to talk to me should’ve been the best news ever. A day ago, it would’ve sent me running out the door, but after today, it sounds like my own personal hell.

He hadn’t said much in the moment. From my hazy memories, he’d been confused before he realised why I’d run in the first place, and then he’d been close, and touching me, and… that had been damning enough, but then he forced me to look at him.

I remembered every detail of that moment perfectly.

The way his eyes widened, the glimpse of fangs when he’d whispered, ‘oh Gods’ before letting me go, but he hadn’t let all of me go.

“Another time then,” Maeve calls.

I don’t reply.

Do you think he’ll be mad at us? — Joseph whimpers as he begins to pace, a new panic taking hold. He came to see us, and we just slammed the door in his face.

I didn’t mean to. I was just… scared.

Rightfully so — Joseph huffs quickly — That was a real-life jump scare. I would’ve screamed in his face AND slammed the door.

I chuckle, the sound barely there, but it warms me the same way Joseph does as we draw closer.

I would have to face Luciel again, and the clan too, but today was too soon. That would be its own Trial, and I had only signed up for three.

Plopping my head against the back of the closet, I breathe deeply until my breathing returns to something close to normal, and my body finally relaxes.

“Are you…” I stiffen, and Maeve hesitates, waiting as though she can sense the way I hold my breath. “…Are you well in there?”

I stare at the closet doors, and the seam of light that pushes past the darkness.

“…I-I’m fine,” I return after a long moment.

I don’t know if she really cares, or was just asking, but Maeve wasn’t the type to pretend, and she’d never once asked before. Silence lingers for long enough that I think she’s done, but then I hear it.

“…would you allow me in?”

I stare through the doors, straight through the wood and ice until I can almost conjure her, but my mind doesn’t know how to picture a Maeve who sounded like she wanted to talk to me. I crawl from the closet, sure that I’ve misheard, but when I open the door again, Maeve is waiting on the other side, alone like she said, and… looking just as unsure as I am.

Carefully, I step aside, leaving enough of a gap for her to come in, and to my surprise, she does.

It’s not her first time in my room, but seeing as the last time she’d basically scared me for fun, I can’t be blamed for how still I am as I watch her venture deeper. She moves stiffly, marching forward like a nutcracker until she turns and faces me from the empty center.

I stare at her, and she stares at me.

“Do your people stand and talk, or do you know how to sit?” She asks sarcastically… I think.

“S-Sit,” I murmur, and she frowns. My eyes fall and she makes a soft sound before she marches over to the lounger I haven’t used yet. There was no point when the bed was right there with my den, but then again, I hadn’t really had any guests.

Awkwardly, I follow her over and watch warily as she sinks into the furthest corner. She takes up half with her size alone, but there’s enough room for me to sink into the opposite side and still leave a space between us.

Silence falls over us again while we sit together like two kids forced to spend time together as punishment, only Maeve is the one who made us do this.

“Did something happen?” She suddenly snaps. I jerk in my place and shrink. Her eyes burn into me before she takes a deep breath and asks more softly, “Did he do something?”

When I blink up at her, I meet scalding brown eyes, but for once, I don’t seem to be the cause of the wrath waiting inside.

“Luciel,” she snaps again, forcing my eyes back down. “Did he do something to you?”

“N-N-No,” I mumble while I try to hide beneath my hair.

“No?” She presses.

“N-No,” I promise.

I had been the one to react to him. He’d done nothing besides be there.

Maeve finally huffs and looks away, and my next breath puffs out of me.

I thought I had Maeve figured out— she didn’t like me and wanted me gone, and I was one hundred per cent sure that was still true, but then why was she here checking on me? Maybe Luciel had asked her to, but I found it hard to believe that she would even if he did.

The last person Maeve would ever care about in this world was me.

“You slammed the door in his face,” she mutters as I feel her gaze settle on me again. “His and mine, but I realise that was largely aimed at him, if not entirely.”

I sink my face between my knees, groaning as my earlier embarrassment finds me and batters me with a whole new round of lashes.

“You did not want to see him,” she gathers, tone careful. “But you still say that he did nothing to trouble you.”

“H-He d-didn’t. L-Lu-Luciel did no-nothing wrong. I-I wa-was the—” I stop myself, my tongue becoming heavy as my skin burns hot. “H-He did n-nothing wr-wrong.”

“And yet the door slam,” she retorts before she hums. “I…” she hesitates, words coming awkwardly again, “I thought it was my doing, your fleeing. That was not my initial intention in taking you to the rings.”

A soft laugh leaves me before I can stop it.

“What?” Maeve snaps, fierce but not so scary.

I shift until I can get the words out. “Y-You w-wanted m-me to g-get sc-scared.”

“No,” she dismisses quickly while her fingers rise to thumb one of the beads sitting at the end of her braids. “I wanted you to see your approaching reality. What effect that would have on you was to be your own.” She pauses, considering. “I did know Luciel would be there, but not fighting. He hasn’t done that in many ages.”

“Really?” I ask, too curious to stop myself, and she shakes her head. “H-He doesn’t l-like to f-fight?”

Maeve scoffs, lips almost quirking into the beginnings of a smile. “Luciel loves a friendly brawl, or he used to.” The almost-smile falls away, and she clears her throat as she looks away. “I expected him to be observing, for us to join him so, and if time allowed it, discuss a certain pair of names, but that never came about.”

“N-Names?” I echo, but she waves me off.

“You shall find out soon enough. If not from me, then Luciel. There is a reason he was in that ring after all,” she mumbles, glowering as if her own musings upset her.

I leave her to them, and in the meantime, I learn what Maeve looks like when she’s relaxed.

It is strange because she doesn’t really look it— she’s still as tense as ever, with her signature frown tugging the skin between her brows down, but she is somehow also at ease. With her legs crossed and an arm swung over the back of the lounger while her other fingers dawdle, it’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her, and she’s sitting with me.

“Is it a question you have, or are you simply looking for a vulnerable place to stab?”

I sputter, eyes widening as hers shift to mine. “St-Stab? N-No! I w-wouldn’t,” I promise, shaking my head as hard as I could. “Wh-Why would I—”

“A question then,” she surmises, lips pursing. “Ask it then.”

I don’t have one, not really, only as she stares at me, I realise that I do. It’s just not one I planned to ask, but she’s looking at me, waiting, and if there’s anyone who’d answer me honestly, then it’d be Maeve.

“W-Wh-What is e-everyone s-sa-saying?” I ask, heart leaping with each syllable. She raises a brow, forcing me to continue. “D-Do th-they n-not want m-me around a-an-anymore?”

Maeve frowns, but it’s not her angry, ‘I hate you and I want to die’ frown. It’s more like a ‘what in all the realms are you talking about’ frown.

“A-About my… r-r-reaction,” I force out.

Maeve blinks at me. “Your… running away? We have grown quite used to that, Peter.”

“Nooo,” I groan, hands dragging over my face as I try to claw myself free. I knew Maeve could be mean, but would she really make me say it all out loud?

I don’t think she is — Joseph murmurs. I think she actually is confused.

I look at her again, finding her still frowning, if a little more curious now. I frown in turn.

Did she really not know? Did none of them know?

Luciel had been confused too at the start. He thought I was scared when he might as well have driven me into a heat, and it wasn’t until he looked at me that he understood, so maybe it was the same for the rest of the clan.

Could it be? That seemed too lucky a chance, too kind of Goddess, but maybe for once, she was being kind.

I shift on my knees, facing Maeve on right. She tenses, eyes bulging. “W-What d-did y-you sm-smell? E-Earlier?”

“What did I smell?” She repeats like I’m talking gibberish. “You rely on that sense more than I, little wolf. I do not know—”

“Please, M-Maeve,” I beg, and she stops short.

Brown eyes lock on me, and maybe it’s because I spoke over her, but Maeve stares at me for a long moment before her shoulders fall slightly. “I smelt blood, Lindana’s and Luciel’s,” she answers gingerly. “I smelt fear, yours mostly, a bit of Luciel’s.” She studies me at that, and while I try to calm it, I know she hears the way it makes my heart race. “And… there was something sweeter.”

I hold my breath. “So-Something?”

“Yes. The scent I associate with you, only sweeter,” she says, and offers nothing else.

“Th-That’s it?” I ask, hope daring to sprout.

“That is it,” Maeve retorts. I stare at her, gobsmacked, and I don’t blink until she frowns. “Is that not sufficient?”

“No-No!” Her brows meet. “I-I me-mean, yes!” I huff. “Y-Yes! It-It’s…” I laugh, lips daring to spread wider. “It-It’s perfect!”

Maeve looks at me like I’m crazy, and I probably look it, but she could never understand the relief I feel as her words sink in.

I’d been in here assuming the worst all day because if what had happened today had happened on pack lands, everyone would’ve known what it meant, witches and all, but here, nobody knew. No one knew what it meant when my scent changed beyond fear, not yet, and so they didn’t know what happened today or why I’d run away in the first place.

To them, I saw blood and bolted.

None of them knew the truth!

None except…

“What?” Maeve snaps, noticing the dread the moment it finds me.

No one knew except for the one person I wished didn’t— my mate.

“You look as though you are about to be ill,” Maeve murmurs, openly drawing her arm to her.

I shake my head, but I have to swallow a few times to fight against the mucus that suddenly lines my inner cheeks. Goddess, maybe I really would be sick.

I draw in to myself, and Maeve tugs the pillow at her back, turning it into a shield.

Okay, so Luciel knew the truth, and as mortifying as that was, it wasn’t the end of the world, yet.

It may feel like it, but it wasn’t. I just had to learn how to live with that without wishing to bury myself beneath the ice. I could do that.

Yup — Joseph agrees, even with how he begins digging an extra-deep hole to hide in forever. We will just reform to the original plan and stay out of his way, at least until the Trials are done.

Both of them? — I ask, heart dropping at just the thought.

I didn’t see Luciel much to begin with, but I couldn’t imagine avoiding him instead of going to him like last night in the library, or not trying to find a moment for us whenever it appeared.

Okay, I will disappear whenever he is near. You can do whatever you want — Joseph clarifies, still digging.

“I will take my leave then,” Maeve announces as she rises, her usual glower back in place. It’s still scathing, but not so bad —not even her glare is — and I see it in full because, for the first time, I meet her gaze without having to work my way up to it.

I still.

“What?” She snipes.

I gape at her, words gone, while I stare straight at her. I’m looking at Maeve, straight at her, and no part of me is afraid.

“Gods, you’re odd today,” she grumbles with a sneer, but still my eyes hold hers. She shakes her head.“Are you to hide in here for the rest of the day?”

It’s a struggle to find my words. “…C-Can I?”

Maeve shrugs a shoulder. “I could not care any less, Peter.”

Usually, those words would hurt, no matter who they came from, but these don’t. I know they are true— don’t doubt it, but they don’t hurt. Nothing about Maeve hurts in fact.

“I shall tell them to bring it here tonight then,” she says, heading for the door. “If you make me knock more than once, I’ll feed it and then you to the orcas.”

“I-I won’t,” I promise, lips quirking. “A-And M-Maeve.”

She turns with a hand on the door, annoyed, but waiting. I smile.

“T-Thank you.”

Her frown turns deadly, her glare more so. “This does not constitute a friendship.”

“N-No, of-of course n-not,” I reply quickly, but my smile doesn’t waver.

She glares at me, jaw clenching. My smile spreads wider.

Maeve mutters something as she slams the door behind her. The ice survives it.

————————————-

Peter doesn’t even see it, but he’s grown in leaps and fucking bounds in just a week

Thoughts??????

Thoughts on Peter’s initial reaction?? The shower scene?? Him slamming the door in Luciel’s face lmfaoooo? 

I feel like it’s fair and real af for Peter to be fucking horrified, especially because he knows the full extent of how turned on he was – Luciel don’t even know he was all wet and shit. Like Joseph said, I would’ve screamed to.

I also love love love their relationship, different as it is from the others, they’re like two headless chickens hugging each other.

And Maeve!!!! MY QUEEN! She might fight it but there’s a real strong friendship on the way between her and Peter, and it stems from them both being considerate in their own ways. She prickly, but I bet you if Peter said Luciel did something, she would’ve taken belt to ass to Luciel lmfaoooooo. 

I also love how real she is with him, she holds nothing back and it’s making him stronger – as we see and will continue to see.

Now, let me just say, enjoy this current stage of this book, cause we are about to enter a new saga of Luciel literally losing his mind that is about to feed generations lmfaooooo

Next chapter should be out same time next week, but follow my Insta and Patreon/Website to stay notified, and also get sneak peeks in the Gold tier!

Until next time,

Byeeeeeeeee Humansssssssss