Bab 16: Chapter 16: The Breach
MAEVE
The café felt like ours — or as close to ours as anything could in a world where every square inch was owned, claimed, or leased by someone else's agenda.
Alright, maybe "ours" was a stretch. My older twin sisters, Saoirse and Aisling, ran their own café back in New Orleans, a picturesque corner of the French Quarter with wrought-iron balconies and creeping ivy. They'd probably argue they'd invented the concept of coffee as an escape from supernatural drama. The originators of escapist caffeine culture, thank you very much. But their little jazz-filled, sunlit nook had a soul very different from this one.
This café in Moon Lake City was all mismatched mugs, dingy tile floors, and the kind of warm, semi-chaotic charm that no one tried to tame. For Siobhan and me, it was our place. No packs, no Coven, no strings. Just coffee and silence thick enough to cut with a knife.
Siobhan was watching me in that way older sisters always did — like she was afraid I'd shatter into tiny pieces if she didn't say something soon.
Normally, I'd toss out a joke, something dry and pointed to cut the tension. But today, I just didn't have it in me. My hands clung to my mug like it might anchor me to something steady, but I felt more adrift than ever. I knew she could see it.
"You can say it," I murmured, finally breaking the silence.
She tilted her head, amused but sad. "Say what?"
I shrugged, swallowing back the frustration that had been simmering for days. "Whatever it is you're thinking. You think I'm losing it, don't you?"
For a long moment, she didn't respond, her eyes searching mine with a mix of sympathy and something I couldn't name. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, careful. "Am I wrong?"
And there it was, spelled out with that kind of bluntness only Siobhan dared. Great, I thought bitterly. Even she thinks I'm on the brink.
I let out a dry laugh. "I don't know what you expect me to do, Siobhan. This whole... situation? It's like every step I take is chained to someone else's life. One minute, I'm married to Ronan, trying to be the dutiful Alpha's bride. The next, I'm haunted by memories of Liam, who might as well be a ghost with how he's avoiding me. And then there's the Coven, which wants something from me that I don't even understand." I paused, my voice hardening. "I'm stuck."
She reached across the table, her hand closing around mine, grounding me. "Maeve, you're not alone. You have me."
I forced a weak smile. "Yeah, but for how long? You've got your own problems — Nimah, the Coven, this whole mess. You can't protect me from everything."
Siobhan's jaw tightened as she looked away, and the silence between us grew thick with the truth neither of us wanted to voice. Nimah had been her rock for years — more than just her wife; she was Siobhan's grounding force, the constant she'd depended on since before I'd even understood what their bond meant.
I grew up watching them, their unwavering loyalty to each other, thinking they were unshakeable. But now, with the Coven setting its sights on me, Siobhan was trapped in a painful bind, caught between her love for Nimah and a growing unease about where Nimah's true loyalty lay.
And that haunted her more than she would admit, even to me.
The chime at the café door shattered our silent exchange, and I looked up to see Nimah walking in. Her gaze found us immediately, sharp and calculating, but there was something else beneath the surface — a tension I hadn't seen in her before. She wasn't here for tea and idle gossip; whatever she'd come to say, it wasn't going to be easy.
"Nimah," I greeted, managing a neutral tone.
"Maeve, Siobhan." She slid into the seat across from us, her hands folding on the table, posture rigid. "I know things have been… tense lately."
"Tense?" Siobhan's lips twisted into a wry smile. "That's putting it lightly."
Nimah winced, but didn't back down. "I'm not here to argue. I came to talk, honestly. There's something you both need to know."
I felt a chill crawl up my spine. Nimah rarely brought that kind of Coven-baggage tone into family business. "What is it?"
She hesitated, glancing around like the walls might betray her. "The Coven… they want me to keep an eye on you, Maeve. And to be transparent, they've tasked me with manipulating you — or at least trying to nudge your emotions, to get what they want from you and Ronan."
My stomach clenched, an icy rush of anger firing through me. "I see. So, you're the Coven's little emotional puppet-master now? What a thoughtful family role."
She flinched, but held my gaze. "It's not like that, Maeve. They're forcing my hand, holding loyalty over me. I'm not choosing this; they're binding me magically. If I step out of line or show any signs of defiance… well, they have ways of ensuring loyalty. I'm telling you this so we can set up some kind of signal, something to tell you when they're trying to use me against you."
I studied her, trying to separate the Nimah I'd known from this new version sitting before me, tangled in Coven politics and family betrayal.
"So, why am I so interesting to them? What does the Coven want with me?"
Her eyes dropped, like she was piecing her thoughts together, carefully sorting through what she could share. "They haven't told me much. But I overheard Brielle talking with someone after a meeting, and she mentioned something about your… family history. They're speculating that there's something unique about your lineage, something that makes you valuable. Powerful, even."
I felt a pang of discomfort. "Valuable?" The word tasted bitter on my tongue. "Let me guess. Because I didn't turn to ash at the altar?"
Nimah hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. "That part is only my suspicion. No one's mentioned the ritual, not directly. But Brielle's conversation — the way she spoke about your family… it was like they'd found something they'd been looking for a long time. Something powerful."
"Powerful? Oh, I feel so powerful right now," I scoffed, letting the bitterness soak into every word.
"It's not just about power," Nimah pressed. "I don't know everything, but they were speculating, building theories about your lineage. They think you being the seventh child has something to do with it."
Siobhan squeezed my hand, a silent promise. She was here, and that was all the grounding I had. Nimah looked at her, and I could feel the weight of everything left unsaid.
I shifted topics, trying to parse out anything else that might untangle this mess. "Did you enjoy the ball last night?" I asked, careful to check if she figured out the part of my suspicious faint.
Nimah hesitated, the tension in her eyes only deepening."There were… plenty of emotions swirling around, that's for sure. You and Liam certainly weren't making things simple." She hesitated, her gaze softening before adding, "And as for Ronan? He's committed to you, Maeve, in his own way. But you have to understand — he's an alpha, which means his instincts are heightened, and right now, they're in overdrive. With Isabelle missing, you two being forced into each other's lives. He is torn. And Declan showing up…" Nimah trailed off, frowning."
My stomach dropped. I noticed that last night. I knew there was tension between them but never knew the extent of it. "You think Declan is making things worse?"
Nimah nodded, casting a quick, wary glance at Siobhan before speaking. "He's certainly not making things better. All I know is what I felt last night — anger, bitterness. It was so overpowering it nearly drowned everything else out. Something serious must have gone down between them, but if you want the truth, you'll have to ask him yourself. I doubt he'd open up to anyone else, but…" she hesitated, eyeing me carefully. "He was feeling very protective of you last night, Maeve. If anyone can get an answer, it's probably you."
I nodded, dread pooling in my stomach as the weight of their words settled. I'd trusted Ronan, felt his protectiveness as something grounding, something steady. But maybe it wasn't as simple as I'd hoped.
"Have you heard anything about Isabelle? Does the Coven know anything?" I forced the words out, feeling my throat tighten at the mention of her name.
Nimah's expression softened, a rare gentleness surfacing. "I haven't heard much — I don't have access to Coven information about her. But… I know one thing for sure, Maeve. Liam's been relentless, chasing down every lead, refusing to let anything or anyone stop him." She paused, her gaze unwavering as she looked straight at me. "He's doing it because, in his mind, finding Isabelle is the only way he can bring you back to him. It's not a secret; he can't hide it from anyone. Liam wants you back, Maeve, and he believes that finding her is the only way to make that happen."
My chest tightened, a painful twist of longing and regret. Liam, the one I'd pushed away to survive this whole mess, was risking everything to find her. Somehow, that made everything sting a little more.
"You should talk to him, Maeve," Nimah said softly.
I laughed, the sound bitter and hollow.
"Oh, sure. I'll just go have a nice chat with my maybe-still-lover-who's-also-my-husband's-brother about all this chaos. That'll fix things right up."
Nimah gave a small, sad smile. "It's not about fixing it. It's about finding a way forward. This situation… it's hell for both of you."
She was right, and I hated it. We can't avoid each other forever. But the idea of facing him, of sorting through all this tangled mess? It felt like trying to hold back an avalanche with my bare hands.
As Nimah rose to leave, she glanced back at me one last time, her voice barely a whisper. "I haven't given up on you, Maeve. Or on you, Siobhan. We're family."
Before she could slip out, I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Wait. I need you — both of you — to start digging. There's something going on with me, and now, finally, we have one small clue." I looked between them, letting the determination settle in my voice. "My lineage."
Siobhan's eyes locked onto mine, flickering with understanding, and Nimah's brows knit with worry, a shadow of concern in the steeliness she usually wore.
"So, Siobhan, I need you to dig into our family history. Dig deep, dig hard, and find whatever's buried there." I paused, turning to Nimah. "And you, Nimah — I need you to find anything you can about these damn rituals. I can't do this alone, and I don't trust anyone else to get to the bottom of it."
Nimah's gaze softened, her concern openly replacing her usual composure. "What exactly is going on with you, Maeve?"
For a moment, I hesitated, feeling the weight of what I was about to admit. But I needed them, both of them, now more than ever.
"I've been having visions," I admitted, my voice low. "And they're getting worse."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone