Protective Instincts

Maeve

Pushing through the school’s heavy doors into the afternoon glare, I finally leave another exhausting day behind me. Graduation sits just four weeks out—one final month until I’m completely off the leash.

Walking away comes with a catch, though. Graduating means leaving Knox to navigate high school solo, so I’m counting on Uncle Gideon putting in enough hours with him on the mats this summer that my brother can hold his own once I’m gone.

Out in the pickup lane, I pull open the rear SUV door, slide in, and catch Uncle Gideon’s unimpressed stare waiting in the rearview mirror. Principal Garver clearly wasted zero time calling.

“Care to fill me in on what went down today, Maeve?”

I keep my gaze off Knox up in the passenger seat. The last thing I need is Uncle Gideon figuring out that every disciplinary call comes down to guys targeting Knox at school. Next year is out of my hands, yet right now I’m plenty capable of keeping this strictly between us.

“A Beta got slick at the mouth with me, so I set him straight,” I reply flatly, feeling zero remorse over Beta Blaise needing his nose snapped back into place before heading home. Part of me wonders whether he admitted to his old man that Maeve Davenport broke it, or spun some pathetic story about catching his shoe on the stairs.

Uncle Gideon lets out a heavy, worn-out breath. “Maeve...”

“Relax, Uncle Gideon. Nobody died, and once next month hits, you won’t have to brace yourself every time your cell rings during school hours,” I cut in, unwilling to sit through the exact same lecture for the hundredth—or millionth—time.

Shifting in the driver’s seat, he drapes an arm across Knox’s headrest and twists all the way back to look me in the eye.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you? And how much Aunt Valeria loves you?” he asks quietly.

Of course I know. Neither of them has ever treated me differently from their own pups. When they offered me the Davenport name, I took it gladly, though even with an open invitation to call them Mom and Dad, I’ve never quite gotten those words out.

“Yeah, I know,” I murmur, turning toward the passenger window.

“Whenever you want to talk things out...” he starts.

“I’m fine.”

Catching Knox’s eye up front, I see him gearing up to blurt out the real story, so I give a barely noticeable shake of my head before facing the glass again.

“You’re a tough wolf, Maeve, yet you can’t fight the whole world single-handedly.”

Is that right? Maybe if the world quit picking fights with me first, I wouldn’t need to walk around with my armor bolted on twenty-four seven.

On the drive back to pack territory, Uncle Gideon’s chat with Knox fades into background noise while my mind circles back to Kastor Vanguard’s sudden interest in me. What the hell possessed him to ask about my weekend? Trying to embarrass me has never been his style, and weirdly enough, he almost looked stung when I didn’t jump to talk to him.

Come to think of it, whenever someone corners Knox and I end up knocking some asshole’s lights out over it, Kastor always happens to be standing somewhere nearby.

On top of that, I catch him staring at me constantly.

A dry snort slips out of me. Maybe I ought to drag him onto a sparring mat and help him get whatever curiosity he’s nursing out of his system.

“Something amusing back there, Maeve?” Uncle Gideon asks. Very little gets past the man; I’ll give him credit for that.

“Tell me what you know about the Vanguard family,” I say instead.

“The Vanguards?” Thankfully, traffic keeps his eyes pinned to the road—otherwise his full attention would be locked straight onto me right now. “They’re deeply established across werewolf society and carry real clout, though their family still isn’t quite as powerful as ours.”

Plenty of our pack’s standing traces directly back to Aunt Valeria. She carries a rare white wolf—the exact gift my biological mother possessed right up until she murdered my father, her own fated mate, simply because she doubted he would ever lead a pack.

In my mother’s twisted priorities, claiming a Luna’s title mattered above everything else. Turning on her mate meant betraying her own wolf too, costing her the Moon Goddess’s blessing and reducing her to an ordinary wolf, no different from every other she-wolf out there. No different from me.

Inside my head, Vesper lets out another quiet, miserable whimper.

‘None of this is on you, Ves. We’ve been over that. You deserve way better—you deserve all the stature that comes with being a white wolf, and I hate that I couldn’t give that to you,’ I tell her silently.

Not an ounce of my resentment is aimed at my wolf. Every bit of blame sits squarely on my mother’s shoulders for ruining our birthright. She and Aunt Valeria were the final two white wolves left, females descended from a pureblooded Alpha line and prized everywhere as mates.

Since my biological father was an Alpha—even if born to a mistress rather than a mate—that white wolf gene technically belonged in my veins. Yet when my mother murdered my father and shattered their sacred bond, the Moon Goddess punished her, passing a mother’s sins straight down to her daughters.

Honestly, I’m grateful my sister Lyra was far too young when our mother died to grasp the birthright stolen from her. She’s grown up expecting to shift into a regular wolf just like mine, completely spared the loss.

Me, on the other hand? I was barely a year younger than Lyra is right now when our mother died, old enough to understand our legacy and expect a white wolf of my own. From here on out, though, that bloodline will only pass down through Aunt Valeria’s daughters.

“What brought the Vanguards onto your radar all of a sudden?” Uncle Gideon asks.

“Kastor Vanguard shares a class with me. He randomly asked what my weekend plans were, and I was trying to figure out whether he was being polite or messing with me.”

Watching my uncle’s eyes narrow in the mirror, I immediately realize I’ve said too much. Normally, I keep school drama to myself. There isn’t much my aunt and uncle can do about it anyway, and having them step in would only make my life harder.

“Has Kastor been harassing you?” Uncle Gideon asks, a low growl edging his voice.

“No. No, nothing like that. I just...”

I just what? Why did I fucking bring him up at all?

“He’s ignored my existence up until today, so having him walk over and try striking up casual conversation caught me off guard.”

“And did you actually talk with him?” he asks me.

“Hardly. I told him to go find a girl who actually wants to swoon over him, since I couldn’t care less,” I say, staring back out the window as Chloe inviting him to her birthday party crosses my mind. As if Chloe could ever measure up as Kastor’s mate. She’s completely fake from head to toe, spending more hours primping in front of a mirror than studying, with the personality and IQ of a rock.

“Funny, I don’t recall hearing his name turn up on your hit list before,” Uncle Gideon remarks. I flick a glance at him, wondering whether he keeps an actual mental tally of every ranked wolf I’ve decked. Knowing my uncle, he almost certainly does.

“He hasn’t been, which is why it surprised me when he tried talking to me today. Normally, he keeps plenty of distance.”

“Well, word is that Kastor grasps the weight of the legacy waiting for him. His father already has him attending pack meetings to prepare him for taking over once he turns eighteen. Whatever he’s like at school or personally, I couldn’t say, though in my dealings with him as an Alpha, he’s impressed me,” Uncle Gideon admits. Coming from my uncle, that’s serious praise.

Pulling up in front of the packhouse, he shifts into park and twists around to face me one last time. “How about holding off on breaking his nose until you’re one hundred percent sure he’s actually being an asshole, deal?”

A genuine grin tugs at my mouth. “Can’t make any guarantees,” I toss back before opening the door and stepping out.

Uncle Gideon shakes his head, though I’d swear there’s a faint trace of a smile on his mouth. From day one, he’s indulged my drive to be strong, refusing to stop training me as a warrior even after the school calls piled up. By now, only he and Aunt Valeria are tough enough to handle me and Vesper.

“Dad!” Lyra and Maddox shout in unison, bursting through the packhouse front doors and sprinting outside to greet us. Uncle Gideon catches both of them effortlessly, sweeping them straight up into his arms.

“How are my pups doing?” he asks, pulling them into a fierce hug.

Watching them, a soft smile crosses my face. Right here is what a real family ought to look like—what MY own family should have looked like.

Up on the patio, Aunt Valeria stands waiting for the rest of us.

“Welcome home, Knox. Everything go alright at school?” she asks warmly.

“Fine,” my brother mutters, leaning hard into peak moody teenager mode.

Aunt Valeria lets the attitude slide without blinking and shifts her attention onto me. “How about you, Maeve? Good day?” One look tells me she’s already heard all about my run-in with that Beta asshole, so I play the grumpy teenager card too.

“Fine.”

Instead of letting me walk straight past the way she let Knox go, she steps forward and pulls me into her arms.

“My door is always open whenever you feel like talking,” she whispers quietly.

Returning the embrace, I give a small nod against her shoulder. Breathing in her crisp, fresh scent never fails to settle my nerves.

Once I step back, she holds my eyes for a beat to make sure I know she means it, then glances past me toward Uncle Gideon. “Hey there, my mate.”

“Hey yourself, gorgeous.”

Not about to linger until the kissing starts—since I know it’s coming—I turn toward the front doors and head inside.

“Oh, Maeve? Your grandfather Alaric will be visiting us this weekend.”

Fantastic—literally the absolute last thing I wanted. My biological father’s old man showing up here for a visit.