"Can't help it." She sipped the cider, the spices warming her throat but doing nothing to ease the tension coiled in her shoulders. "Something feels off."
"I know." His hand found the small of her back, steady and grounding. "Emmett's got patrols running the perimeter.Ryker's positioned near the Council Glade entrance. Kieran and Lucien are watching the tree line."
"And Hector?" She faced him fully, keeping her voice low. "Any sign?"
"Nothing." Dante's jaw tightened. "That's what worries me."
It worried her too. The rogue lions they'd captured hadn't talked, but everyone knew Hector had orchestrated everything. The vandalism. The Council manipulation. The systematic attacks designed to undermine her authority and destabilize Hollow Oak's leadership. All of it pointed to tonight, to the Solstice Gathering when families came together and guards relaxed into celebration.
So where the hell was he?
"Maeve!" Cora waved from across the square, her pale blonde hair adorned with small braided flowers as she stood beside Callum near one of the fire pits. "Come try the roasted chestnuts before Callum eats them all!"
Maeve forced a smile, waving back. She felt Dante's silent encouragement, his confidence in her ability to balance vigilance with normalcy.
"Go." He squeezed her hand. "I'll keep watch. You should be visible, celebrating with your people. Show them their lioness isn't afraid."
"I'm not afraid." She met his gaze. "I'm prepared."
"I know." He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "That's why you're terrifying."
Despite everything, she smiled. The mate mark on her collarbone thrummed with warmth, just as it had the past so many days. She moved through the crowd, stopping to greet families, accept hugs from regulars at the Silver Fang, and admire children's new winter coats. The town had turned out in force, shifters and witches and fae mingling freely beneath the Veil's protective shimmer.
This was worth protecting. These people, this community, this pocket of sanctuary where magic lived openly and differences meant strength instead of division.
"Maeve, darling!" Twyla materialized with two young fae children clinging to her skirts, their wheat-colored hair marking them as distant cousins. "Tell Miles that the fireflies won't bite. He's being dramatic."
"They're made of magic," Maeve crouched to the boy's level, keeping her voice serious. "They can't bite because they don't have mouths. Just light and wishes."
The child's eyes widened. "Wishes?"
"If you're very gentle, you can whisper a wish to one." She held out her palm, and one of the glowing insects landed obligingly. "See? Perfectly safe."
Miles reached out with careful fingers, his face transforming into wonder when the firefly crawled onto his hand. "It tickles!"
"That's the magic saying hello." She stood as he ran off to show his sister.
"You're good with them," the fae woman said quietly. "Children trust you. That matters."
"Trying to tell me something?" Maeve raised an eyebrow.
"Only that our future is looking brighter all the time." Twyla's gaze tracked to where Dante stood speaking with Emmett, his profile sharp against the lantern light. "Present and future both."
Before Maeve could respond, Freya appeared carrying a tray of fresh cider cups, her copper-auburn hair cascading over one shoulder of her thick sweater.
"Here." Freya pressed a cup into Maeve's hands. "Extra cinnamon, just how you like it. And before you ask, yes, I double-checked all the wards. They're holding perfectly."
"Thank you." Maeve squeezed her friend's arm. "For everything."
"That's what family does." Freya's green eyes sparkled with genuine affection. "Besides, after you defended my apothecary during the blight, I owe you about seventeen lifetimes of cider."
"I'll collect eventually." Maeve's smile felt more natural now, the crowd's energy seeping into her bones despite her vigilance.
Music started near the gazebo, where someone had set up instruments. A fiddle joined by a guitar, the melody lifting sweet and clear into the winter air. Couples began dancing, their movements casting long shadows across the snow.
"Dance with me." Dante reappeared, offering his hand with that devastating smile. "Before you patrol again."
"I wasn't going to patrol."
