Dragon’s Fire- Fake it till we fall

Loopholes

Nael

I grab onto the edge of the pool and push up and out of it. Taking off the goggles and the swim cap. My chest is heaving, and I turn towards Jordan, sitting on one of the reclining chairs.

"Time?", I huff.

"50, 49, 50… not bad.", my Beta mutters and notes them on the board under ‚100m Freestyle '. We are a little competitive here. Ok, more than a little.

"Could be better.", I scoff and grab a towel.

"C'mon, you beat me every day. Even if it's just by a few milliseconds. You have been on edge since last night."

"Well, I still have to talk to Elodie today. So… what do you expect?", shrugging my shoulders, I dry my hair and pick up the water bottle.

"I asked Virgil to get me a copy of the will. I was staring at it all night. No idea what good that was doing…but hey, I will do that again now. Guess reading that doomsday document is the one way to spend the few hours before I drive back to the Blue Ridge Pack."

It's the first time I actually took a look at it myself since my grandfather died two years ago. I don't know what I was hoping to find. So pathetic. Scanning the 15-page document over and over. My thoughts getting lost every now and again, going back to last night and a scared little she-wolf. I wonder how she is doing?

I could slap myself. No. I don't wonder how the little sister of my soon-to-be mate is doing. Sure, I will keep things cordial with her family once we are mates and her parents are nice enough; but there is no need for my thoughts to keep circling back to that tiny, foul-mouthed witch. Rubbing my hair a little angrier than before, I walk over to my shorts lying on one of the chairs.

"Meet me at 10 am?", I look at Jordan over my shoulder.

"Por apoio moral?"(For moral support?)

„Não, para manter a empresa do carro. Sim, é claro, para apoio moral.“, (No, to keep the car company. Yes, of course, for moral support.) I say, rolling my eyes at him.

"Certo."(Alright), he lifts his shoulders and then lets out a huff.

"Let's hope you will be in a better mood once this is over.", my Beta muses.

"I'm not in a bad mood, just annoyed with myself. I don't do well with leaving things unsaid or undone that should have been addressed. Till now, I wasn't sure if it was Elodie, but after last night my decision only solidified. I was so drawn to her, to that house. It felt like the room was charged with electricity when I met her parents.", I say.

I hope I don't sound like I'm trying to convince myself a little too hard- because that is what that nagging feeling in the back of my head is implying.

"And you know me: Once I decide on something, I get it done within the hour. No nonsense. That that hasn't been possible here will drive me mad sooner or later. Also, let's not forget the press conference next week. My first one ever, and I assure you, they expect a man of 26 to have found his mate. Thanks to my grandfather hinting at it before he died. It would be easiest to introduce her there and be done with it.", I grit out between clenched teeth.

"Ahhh, so just the usual ‚going mad 'side of things. Got it.", Jordan jokes, and I scowl at him.

"You are lucky, you are my friend, and I like your parents and your sister, or I swear I would have kicked you out a long time ago.", I growl, rubbing my hand over my face.

"Com certeza, amigo."( Sure thing, buddy.) He has the audacity to wink at me, and I flip him the bird before turning around and patting back to my study a few floors higher.

After pulling on the long-sleeve and slacks, I left here last night, I go over to my desk and grab hold of the torturous document again.

And pacing up and down in my office, I start rereading it.

"And in the event of my death…", I can even recite that sh** by heart already. I sigh.

What the f**k am I doing here anyway? What am I hoping for? That I can simply read the words of the page, and they will no longer apply? Mess up my life, my plan. Dictate a future for me that I'm not even sure I want. I want to be King. And still, I don't see why I need a mate for that. I rub my hand over my face. It's no use. Sure, I can get angry and shout at Virgil and call Jordan a d**k, but that won't change the fact that at the end of the day, I still have to produce my fated one before I can take on my duties. No matter how many briefs I write or how often I meet the ‚round table'.

That's what I call the three men, my grandfather's former advisors, that form the reigning power till the end of grandfather's ultimatum. Jean Cobble, Rufus Lund, and Tray Fox are all in their late forties to early fifties, and besides Jordan's dad Ramon, the closest thing to father figures I had after my parents passed away.

My grandpa wasn't much of a role model. He would drill me with iron discipline. Don't show your feelings, you are a man. Walk straighter, you are a man. Raise your voice so they will listen, you are a man.

It's safe to say that his image of the leader he wanted me to be, has nothing to do with how I will be once I get that title. But before I can stick it to him, I have to get this annoying thing out of the way.

I turn around again, so I don't hit my toe on one of the bookshelves, and the light shifts on the page I have been reading.

And that is when I see it. So tiny, barely there, that I am sure they did it on purpose. A small star referring to a footnote, I didn't even realize was there last night. Sh**, how distracted was I?

Well, that is also the smallest font known to men right there.

Taking a closer look, I turn the page even more towards the light and try to make out what the footnote says.

‚Since the crimson dragon born (yep, not even using my name) won't be able to recognize their mate unless both are posed under the blood moon, I declare that a chosen mate should suffice. My requirements should only be adjusted, though, given their search has been going on for at least two years after my demise. '

I take a sharp breath in. F**K. This is my backdoor. This is the loophole I need. My backup plan, in case things go wrong with Elodie, even though I know they won't. I let out a short laugh. Holy sh**. The throne is mine. I cackle again. That bastard thought I would be too stupid, angry, and impatient to read the will myself. And look close enough. Yeah, I guess he was right about that… at least for the past two years, I was.

I bet you he instructed Virgil, that sucker, to only give a copy to me once I asked and not hint at anything. Although I guess the second part wouldn't have been necessary. Virgil is even more of a purist than my grandfather was. He hates me. And he is best friends with Duke Oren, a slimy creeper that has been eyeing my title since the day my grandfather passed. Anything to be done to give Oren an advantage is a plus in Virgil's book.

"Well, f**k you, you saggy, old penguin.", I mutter to myself, a wide grin forming on my face.

And I can't help but look forward to going over to the Blue Ridge Pack now. Even more, than I already was, of course. Why would I need an excuse to be excited to see my girlfriend?

‚And anxious to see if her little sister is alright.', the voice in the back of my mind pipes up.

I scoff. Most certainly not.

______________

Maeve

My wish for last night to just be over is not granted—quite the opposite. Instead, I'm woken up out of a nightmare-riddled sleep by a firm knock on my door.

"Maeve?", my dad's voice sounds from behind it. "Are you awake?"

"Almost.", I grumble. I hate mornings. There are only so many things I despise more than getting up, leaving the warmth and relative safety of my bed. Yet, even with the nightmares, it seems a better place to be than the dining hall or the corridor, where eyes are following me relentlessly. Whispered insults and comments, reaching even my non-wolf ears.

"I need to talk to you. Get dressed and come to my office."

And suddenly, I don't feel sleepy any longer. My dad's voice wasn't loud or threatening or anything. But by the bitter undertone, I can tell that something must have happened. My eyes glide over to the alarm clock. 8:30 am.

"Of course, dad. I'll be there in five minutes.", I reply, already pushing back the comforter and swinging my legs over and out the side of the bed. I slow down. Damn, it's cold. I shiver a little and get up reluctantly.

"Alright.", my dad says gruffly, and then I hear steps retreating.

I pat over to the dresser, my bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor noisily. Pulling out an oversized sweater that tends to slide off my shoulder and a tank top to go with it, I push the drawer close. Grabbing my ribbed jeans and the thickest pair of fuzzy socks I own off the chair in the corner, I enter my bathroom.

Once I'm dressed, I look into the mirror, deciding to brush my almost waist-length blond curls back in a ponytail and push the fringes of my banks out of my eyes. I stare at my bare face and grab the darkest shade of grey I have. I need this.

Once I am done, I hurry to my dad's office and knock tentatively.

"Come in." My dad's voice has taken on its ‚official' tone, which means there are going to be more people in there. I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. I can handle this. Anything they throw at me. I push down the nagging voice that is scared of getting scolded like a schoolgirl by my father. I am Maeve f**king Hartgrave, and I can handle this.

I push open the door, and sure enough, the room is anything but empty. A smaller space would have looked crowded. But with how big my dad's office is, it doesn't matter that much that there are not only my parents in here. My brother, the acting commander of our guard Dane DeBoer, his mate and our resident warlock Ian Davis and one of their sons, Connor, who is working in IT at one of the pack's companies (can't remember which one) are sitting and standing around the room.

"Wow, now that is what I call a warm ‚good morning '. There wasn't even that big a crowd when I first came back.", I grumble.

"Come in, Maeve.", Mom says quietly and waves me to come closer and close the door behind me. I give them a grumpy shrug for good measure because I think that is the reaction that they expect from me.

"What's up?", I ask as nonchalantly as I can. And I thank the goddess for my gift of controlling my heartbeat. In a room full of shifters and a warlock, it feels deadly to give away how nervous I am.

"There… has been an incident last night.", dad says.

"Yeah, I know. I was there.", I scoff.

My dad throws me a glare.

"The guy… Liam.", he balls his hands into fists when saying that, and somehow I get the feeling that the anger in the room is not directed toward me. But then again, the voice in the back of my head is still nagging me, telling me not to get too hopeful.

‚We always mess up.'

"Liam came forward and claimed that you attacked him without reason.", Dane pipes up. He is my mom's closest friend, and growing up, I saw him and his mate, Ian, as fatherly figures, especially with Ian teaching all three of us how to use our gifts better, furthering the impact we can have. 
Now he looks at me blankly, and all the nice memories I have of the time with my Uncle Dane are gone in an instant. I feel like ice water is being poured into my veins.

"He groped, no, he flat out s*xually assaulted me. It was hardly unprovoked.", I scoff, trying to conceal that my breathing has gotten a little erratic.

"There is no proof of that.", Mom says, her voice only a whisper. My eyes fix on her, and I have to focus even more to prevent a spike in my heart rate. To not have my face drain of color.

"What are you trying to say?", I hiss. I'm not able to raise my voice, even though I'm screaming in my head.

"It's your word against his.", Dane says matter of factly, and I see Theo nod, deep in thought, and Dad's fists tighten again.

This can't be happening. Not again. The little voice inside my head is going nuts now. Images from a few years ago flashing before my inner eye. Me in this exact office. My parents behind my dad's desk, like now. Their faces forced into a mask of concern when I know what they are really concealing is disappointment. Disappointment that their insolent child has done it again. Beat up a classmate, got detention, skipped class.

"There is a video of you hitting him in the head with that jug circulating on ‚Pawsta '.", Connor looks at me with unconcealed pity in his eyes.

"A video?" I can't breathe. I swear I will fall off this chair and hit the ground. And I'm pretty sure I won't get up again.

"Yes. Someone uploaded it last night, and it has over 800 000 views already. Most of the werewolf community has seen it by now." The sheer pain and discomfort on Connor's face only deepen.

F**k me. Always. That's how it always goes.

"We believe you.", my mom hurries out. No, you don't.

"Yeah, sure.", I say, giving her a slight smile.

"We do." I hate the indifferent tone of Dane's voice. And I don't know him well enough, or more like, I can't remember him well enough to know if it is a defense mechanism or he is actually serious. I see his jaw clench when Connor shows all of us the video a few minutes later.

Mom looks away, and Dad is visibly upset. Of course, he is. I'm a failure—a disgrace to the Hartgrave name. Theo is the only one that doesn't show any emotion. When I was younger, I was a little creeped out by my stoic brother, but I also loved that he wasn't as loud and boisterous as Elodie. Now I envy him. Because I'm good, yes, outwardly, you won't be able to tell that I am horrified, scared to death, shaking like a leave. But I am not as good as him.

"As we said: We believe you. Which means it's your word against his. And since we want to be sensitive to the subject, we, of course, won't punish you for attacking another pack member. However, there was another way to go about it. Ryan was there; you should've let him…", Dad trails off. There it is. We believe you, but…. We are on your side, but…

"Given we won't punish you, we can't really justify punishing Liam either, though. There is no proof. We couldn't find any witnesses for him… We even checked the surveillance footage of the bar. So, there is no real case to build." Dad rubs the bridge of his nose, exhausted.

And something breaks in me. I know it sounds stupid because we have been here so many times before, but today, when he just now said that he wouldn't punish the guy who assaulted me… it just feels like I get final proof of the fact that even though they love me and I thought they would die for me, I don't matter as much. He will not put me above the pack. Never.

"He will be supervised for the next few months, and we will have an off-duty guard follow him to make sure he doesn't try something with someone else." I don't even listen as Dane continues to go on about the measures they will take concerning Liam. There is a fuzzy cloud in my head. My ears are ringing, and small yellow dots dance in front of my eyes. I don't matter. I knew it. But it hurts to hear it again.

"We will try to get the video taken down. I'm already in touch with the site, and by midday, we should have it deleted.", Connor types something on his tablet.

"Can I go?", my voice is flat.

"Maeve—

"I get it. Good that you are being cautious about Liam. And thank you for being on my side… and your efforts to delete the video.", I turn to Connor.

"But I wan to go now."

"Sure, honey.", Mom gives me a cautious little smile.

I get up and walk towards the door. Placing one foot in front of the other. Lazer- focused on that action, so I don't trip, don't show that my knees are like Jell-O. I bite my lower lip. Don't cry. I need Berti.