<h4>Chapter 34: Chapter 34: DIRTY TALK</h4>


    <strong>MAEVE’S POV</strong>


    "What are you doing out here?" she asked, peeling off her sses with a sneer. "Shouldn’t you be off somewhere, stirring your little peasant herbs or whatever it is you people do?"


    There were dark circles under her eyes, hinting at ack of sleep. Again, I wondered where she had been.


    Not because I cared. It was more of a gnawing curiosity.


    A she-wolf as insecure and territorial as Serena would never choose to leave Ivan alone under the same roof with me for an entire night.


    Unless she was up to something.


    "Actually, I should be asking where you’ve been," I said smoothly, letting my gaze rake over her. "You look like you’ve been off enjoying yourself..."


    "I was at a resort," she said coolly, brushing invisible lint off her sleeve. "Figured I deserved a little pampering after all the stress you’ve caused me these past few days."


    "Really?" I snickered. "But I’ve barely done anything."


    "I heard you caused quite the ruckus with Lydia yesterday," she continued. "You must be pleased to have turned Ivan against his mother."


    "You heard wrong. All I did was call it as I saw it. Everyone else made up their minds on their own."


    "Is that what you tell yourself to feel better about the awful things you’ve done?"


    "Careful now. You of all people should know better than to say that to me, especially with the graveyard of confessions you’ve handed me." I tilted my head, and Serena instinctively straightened her spine.


    She knew exactly what I was referring to—the fact that she had poisoned me five years ago, nearly causing me to lose Asha.


    "Tread wisely, Serena," I said, taking a slow step forward. "I may choose to stay quiet about the callous things you’ve done to me, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten, or that I hate you any less."


    Serena opened her mouth, but no words came out. Once more, I had her cornered.


    As much as she hated that I was here in Ash Creek and wanted me gone, more than that, she feared having Ivan discover that she had nearly murdered his heir five years ago.


    A secret like that would shatter the fragments of her already shaky rtionship with him. And knowing Serena, I could tell that was thest thing she wanted.


    She loved Ivan. She wanted to be Luna of Ash Creek so badly.


    I watched her lower her gaze to her shoes. She cleared her throat, visibly ufortable.


    "You can ignore I said anything. As far as I’m concerned, we never had this conversation."


    With that, she dismissed me and hurried up the front steps, disappearing past the double doors.


    That night, in my room, I took a long soak in the tub. Asha was already in bed, busy with his storybooks.


    After my bath, I dressed in my nightwear and headed to the adjoining sitting room, taking a seat in front of the firece. It was a warm night, yet I relished the heat of the fire.


    At exactly nine p.m., I called Devon. In typical Devon fashion, he picked up immediately.


    "Maeve," he said, his voice sounding so familiar and yet so far away.


    "Dev," I breathed, his name barely audible on my lips. "Honey. I’ve missed you."


    It was the truth.


    It didn’t matter how physical I had gotten with Ivan or how passionately my wolf seemed to crave him. I missed my husband—so much.


    I missed the warmth of his embrace. His stability. His kindness. His sce.


    "I’ve missed you too, pretty girl," he replied, his voice light, and I could almost picture the smile on his face. "How’s Asha?"


    "He’s fine," I told him. "He misses you. He can’t wait to see you."


    "I miss him too," Devon murmured. "And while I can hardly wait to have him back here with me, you do understand why you both have to remain there for now."


    "Yeah, I know," I sighed, leaning back into the plush chair. "It hasn’t been easy though—especially with Lydia. And... Ivan." My voice dropped lower, hesitant. "He suspects me. I think he’s got spies nted on me. But don’t worry, I’m being careful."


    There was a brief silence on the other end, like he was considering his next words.


    "How are you coping, though?" he asked gently. "I mean... seeing him again? Being under the same roof with your ex-mate. Is that... hard for you?"


    I froze. My throat tightened for a moment, because yes—it was hard. Harder than I wanted to admit. And moreplicated than I could exin.


    I started to speak, but he filled the silence before I could.


    "Don’t tell me he’s been trying to woo you again," Devon said, attempting lightness with a forced chuckle.


    Iughed, too—but the sound was short, tight. Weak.


    "No, of course not," I said, lying through my teeth.


    I could still feel the light trace of Ivan’s lips on mine, still hear the way my wolf had whimpered for more. Before I could stumble my way through a proper answer, Devon continued.


    "I’m joking, pretty girl," he said. "I trust you. You’re mine. And I love you. You know that, right?"


    "I know," I whispered. And I did. But the knot in my chest didn’t ease.


    Then, his voice dropped, lower, rougher.


    "What are you wearing right now?"


    I blinked, surprised. I nced down at myself, at the thin satin of my pyjama robes sticking damply to my skin from the bath.


    "My nightwear," I said, cautiously.


    "What kind?"


    "A robe."


    "What color?"


    I swallowed. "Red."


    "Fuck," he groaned. "That’s my favorite. You know what I’d do to you right now if I was there?"


    I didn’t answer. My pulse fluttered. I felt it in my stomach first, then lower.


    "I’d pull those little straps off your shoulders with my teeth," Devon said, voice husky and hungry with need. "I’d press you down into that chair and kiss every inch of you. Lick you until you begged. I’m fisting my cock right now just thinking about your lips around it, your breath on my neck..."


    My breath hitched, heat crawling up the sides of my neck. I gripped the phone tighter. But just as I parted my lips to say something back—


    <strong>Knock knock knock.</strong>


    I jolted, heart jumping into my throat.


    "Devon," I whispered quickly, standing from the chair. "Someone’s at the door. I’ve got to go."


    "Fuck. Fine, hang up," he said immediately, his voice shifting back intomand. "I’ll keep in touch."


    I ended the call, breath still shaky, and rushed to the firece.


    With shaking fingers, I tucked the burner phone behind the mantle, hiding it in the dark crevice just as footsteps sounded faintly outside my door.


    But even as I stepped back, the tightness in my chest deepened. What rattled me wasn’t the knock at the door.


    It was the fact that—despite the dirty talk, despite Devon’s voice, his love, his trust... my body hadn’t thrilled the way it used to.


    I forced the thought away, crossing the room and unlocking the door.


    The wolf standing on the other side of the threshold wasn’t a servant. It wasn’t Marlo or Nina either.


    It was Ivan.


    Ivan Cross.