"Over my dead body." Maeve's voice came out quiet, lethal.
"That's what he's counting on." Dante said softly. "You fighting alone. You falling. But that's not going to happen, because you're not alone."
Something in her chest shifted at those words, at the absolute certainty in his tone.
"We have a plan." Emmett spoke up from his position near the door. "Wards, patrols, positioned fighters. He won't catch us unprepared."
"Good." Maeve straightened, her lioness settling with grim satisfaction. "Then let's make sure he regrets ever stepping foot in my town."
The meeting dispersed slowly, people returning to their tasks with renewed purpose. Maeve found herself alone with Dante as he gathered up the maps, his movements efficient and controlled.
"You should have told me sooner." She kept her voice level, not accusing, just stating fact.
"You were healing." He didn't look up from organizing the papers. "And you needed to focus on reopening the tavern, not on planning for war."
"I can do both."
"I know you can." He finally met her gaze, something soft in those amber eyes. "But you shouldn't have to. Not all the time."
She narrowed her eyes as if trying to see if there was a lie to see through. There didn’t seem to be.
"You've been different this week." She leaned against the table, studying him. "Quieter. Letting me handle things."
"You needed space to figure out what you wanted." His slight smile held no smugness, just patient understanding. "I'm not going anywhere, Maeve. Whether you decide I'm worth the risk or not, I'm staying. Hollow Oak's my home now too."
Her throat tightened unexpectedly. "Just like that?"
"Just like that." He tucked the last map away, then straightened to his full height. "I'm not the same lion who left ten years ago. I don't need to prove I'm alpha by dominating everyone around me. I just need to stand beside the people I care about when they need me."
"And when they don't need you?"
"Then I stand beside them anyway." His grin turned slightly wicked. "Stubborn like that."
Despite herself, she laughed. "You're impossible."
"You're difficult." He moved past her toward the door, but paused. "For what it's worth, watching you fight last week? That's when I knew for certain."
"Knew what?"
"That you're exactly the lioness I always hoped existed. Strong enough to stand alone, brave enough to let someone stand with you when it matters." He held her gaze for one more heartbeat. "I'll be out front if you need me. Door's almost fixed."
Thankfully he left before he noticed she had no smart ass thing to say back.
By evening, the Silver Fang glowed with warm light and bustling energy.
Maeve poured drinks, exchanged banter with regulars, and felt herself ease back to almost a warm comfort with every laugh that filled her tavern. The repairs were obvious if you looked closely, mismatched wood here, new glass there, but the heart of the place remained unchanged.
"First round's on the house," she announced to the packed room. "Consider it a thank you for helping put this place back together."
The cheer that erupted made her smile despite everything weighing on her mind.
Dante worked the other end of the bar, his movements surprisingly competent as he filled orders and deflected questions about how long he was staying. She caught him watching her several times throughout the night, but he never approached, never crowded, just remained steadily present in that way he'd perfected over the past week.
Letting her come to him. Letting her choose.
"He's good for you, you know." Twyla appeared at her elbow, refilling the garnish tray with practiced ease. "Don't give me that look. I know when something's different."
"Nothing's different." Maeve grabbed two bottles of whiskey, already knowing which regulars would order next.
