"Go home, Twyla." Maeve softened it with a small smile. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. Really."
"You're always fine." Twyla pulled open the door, letting in a gust of cold air and swirling snow. "That's the problem."
She left before Maeve was able to argue, disappearing into the white-dark night like she'd never been there at all. Fae had a way of doing that. Slipping in and out of spaces, leaving questions behind like gifts you didn't want.
Maeve locked the door and leaned against it, eyes closed. The tavern settled around her with familiar creaks and sighs. This place was hers. She'd built it from nothing, turned it into theheart of Hollow Oak's shifter community. The Silver Fang didn't just serve drinks. It served as neutral ground, sanctuary, and home all rolled into one.
She'd made this life. Chosen it. And she'd chosen it alone.
Her lioness snarled in disagreement, pawing at the edges of her control. Maeve pushed back with practiced ease, shoving the beast down where it belonged. She'd gotten good at that over the years. Good at ignoring instincts that led nowhere useful.
The Veil's hum intensified, singing through the walls like a voice she couldn't quite hear. It raised the hair on her arms, made her spine prickle with awareness.
"Whatever you're planning," she muttered to the empty room, "I'm not interested."
The Veil didn't answer. It never did.
But it kept humming all the same.
Maeve grabbed her keys and headed for the back stairs that led to her apartment above the tavern. The snow would keep falling. The Veil would keep humming. And she'd keep doing exactly what she'd always done.
Surviving.
Alone.
The way she liked it.
2
DANTE
Ten years was a long time to stay away from a place that haunted your dreams.
Dante Deleuve watched the Veil shimmer as he crossed into Hollow Oak's territory, that familiar tingle of ancient magic sliding over his skin like recognition. The enchantment had always known him. Even after a decade, it welcomed him back without question.
He wasn't sure he deserved the greeting.
The mountain road twisted through snow-laden pines, their branches bowed under winter's weight. His truck handled the conditions fine, but Dante drove slower than necessary. Putting off the inevitable. The Council summons sat folded in his jacket pocket, crisp paper that felt heavier than it should.
Sabotage. Cross-owned establishment. Investigate. Report directly to Elder Varric Thornwell.
The message had arrived three days ago, hand-delivered by a wolf courier who'd refused to meet his eyes. That alone had told Dante this wasn't standard Council business. When he'd called Varric for clarification, the old wolf had been cryptic.
"You know them, Deleuve. They trust you. Or they did once." Varric's voice had carried weight through the phone line. "Emmett Hollowell sits on the Council now. He can't investigate his own people without raising questions. Neither can Maeve. This needs discretion."
"Why me?"
"Because you left clean. No debts. No territory disputes." A pause. "And because Callum Cross vouched for you."
That had stung more than Dante wanted to admit. Callum vouching for him after years of silence. After Dante had chosen to stay with their old pride while Callum and Maeve walked away to build something better in Hollow Oak.
He'd assumed Callum owned whatever establishment needed investigating. His old friend had always been the ambitious one, the lion who'd walked away from their pride to build something better. Dante had stayed behind, choosing duty over the pull of his own wants. Choosing the pride's future over his own.
Choosing wrong, maybe.
The town emerged from the trees like something out of a snow globe. Hollow Oak hadn't changed much. Same crescent lake, same cluster of shops huddled around the town square, same sense of magic thrumming beneath the surface. But there were differences too. New buildings. New faces in the windows. Growth.
Life had moved on without him.
