"I'm stating facts." Hector didn't look away from Maeve. "She's running a business she's not equipped to handle. Operating under a family name she has no right to use independently. The Cross legacy demands proper pride structure. Male leadership. Traditional values that ensure stability."
"Those values are poison," Maeve said quietly. "They're why Callum and I left. Why we built something better here."
"Better?" Hector laughed. "You built a tavern that's failing. That requires constant Council intervention to stay afloat. That's made you the subject of investigation because you can't maintain basic inventory control."
"The only reason I need investigation is because you're sabotaging my shipments."
"Prove it." He gathered his papers. "Oh wait, you can't. Because all you have is paranoia and accusations. While I have documentation. Evidence. A legitimate claim to Cross holdings that you've been mismanaging for years."
Maeve moved around the bar before thinking. Her lioness surged to the surface. The shift started, her bones beginning to crack and reform.
Hands caught her shoulders. Strong. Steady. Smelling like pine smoke and winter.
"Don't." Dante's voice came low in her ear. "That's what he wants."
"I don't care what he wants." Her voice had gone rough, her lioness bleeding through. "He doesn't get to walk into my tavern and insult everything I've built."
"He doesn't." Dante's grip tightened, holding her back from lunging. "But shifting in front of a crowded room proves his point. Proves you can't control yourself."
"I can control myself just fine." She tried to pull free. Dante held firm.
"Then prove it." His voice softened. "Breathe. Step back. Show him he can't rattle you."
"He already has." But she forced herself to breathe. To push her lioness down. To let Dante hold her while she rebuilt the walls she needed.
The shift receded. Her bones settled. Gold faded from her vision, leaving her shaking with rage and shame.
"Interesting," Hector said into the silence. "You need a male to restrain you. To keep you from losing control. That's exactly the kind of instability I've been documenting."
"Get out." Breck stood, his bear rising to his eyes. "You made your point. Now leave before things get ugly."
"I'm simply exercising my right to inspect Cross property."
"This isn't your property." Sylvie stood too, along with half the tavern. Shifters and humans and fae, all rising to face the lion who thought he could walk in and claim what wasn't his. "Maeve built this place. Earned every board and bottle. You've got no claim here."
"I have blood claim." Hector's voice hardened. "Traditional pride law gives me authority over all Cross holdings. This tavern operates under my family name. That makes it mine."
"Not in Hollow Oak." Another voice. Deeper. Callum Cross stepped through the crowd, his alpha presence filling the room. "Here we operate under Council law. Not pride politics. And the Council recognizes Maeve's ownership."
"Callum." Hector's expression soured. "Still defending your rebellious cousin, I see."
"Still defending what's right." Callum moved to stand beside Maeve. "You want to claim Cross legacy? Fine. But you don't get to walk into our town and demand we bow to pride law we left behind. We built something better here. Something where strength doesn't mean domination."
"How progressive." Hector's sneer deepened. "And look how well that's working. Your cousin needs a male to hold her back from violence. Your town needs Council intervention to handle basic sabotage. This is what happens when females lead. Chaos."
"This is what happens when bitter old lions try to reclaim power they never earned." Callum's voice dropped to a growl. "You didn't build the Cross pride. You inherited it through manipulation and backstabbing. Then you drove out everyone who disagreed with you. Don't pretend you represent legacy. You represent everything wrong with traditional pride structure."
"And you represent failure." Hector stood, buttoning his coat. "But the Council will sort that out. Thirty days, Maeve. Then we'll see which of us represents the Cross name properly."
He left, the door swinging shut behind him.
The tavern erupted. Voices overlapping in anger and support. Shifters arguing about pride law versus Council governance. Humans confused about the tension but loyal to Maeve anyway.
Maeve stood behind her bar, Dante's hands still on her shoulders, feeling like she'd been stripped raw in front of everyone who mattered.
"Alright." Her voice cut through the noise. "Show's over. We're closing."
"Maeve—" Breck started.
