The Hidden Luna Queen (Maeve and Xaden) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82 

XADEN POV 

The moment I entered my bedroom that afternoon, I instantly gravitated towards my mate, who was seated near the open window overlooking the back gardens. Before she could even begin to greet me, I pulled her into my arms and k*ssed her. 

Despite her initial surprise, she responded in kind, wrapping her arms around my neck. Slowly, I gently let her settle back on her feet. 

“Hi,” Maeve breathed, lighting up. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” 

It was true–I still had quite a bit of work to do before my day was done. But… as I caressed her jaw, the soft curve of her ears, I knew I’d needed to see her. There was too much confusion for me to think straight, and I needed her to help me out. 

“You seem distracted,” she murmured, snapping me back. “Did something happen today?” 

I took a breath. “This might be a strange, sudden request, but please,” I implored, gently squeezing her hands and rubbing my over her knuckles, “could you humor me, just for a little while…?” 

Her brow creased. “What is it?” 

“Could you bring out the necklace we picked up from Moonstone that day? The one with the purple gemstone?” 

“Oh,” she said after a puzzled pause. “Of course. Give me a moment.” 

thumbs 

Maeve went over to our bed and rummaged in her silk pillowcase, pulling out that familiar small pouch that she’d retrieved that fateful day in Moonstone. She even apparently took to hiding it in the same location–inside her pillowcase. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was purely out of habit that she kept the necklace there… 

Or did she truly hold the necklace in such high regard that she couldn’t rest unless she knew it was nearby and safe? 

“May I?” I asked, extending my hand towards her. 

There was a brief moment of hesitation as she stared at my open, waiting hand, clutching the pouch tightly, closer to her body. 

An understandable hesitation, I thought–especially if the object was as precious to her as I had figured in my mind. Even with someone 

as close to her as I as the recipient, she would not hand over such an item unless she felt perfectly comfortable to do so. 

In the end, Maeve smiled nervously, gently removing the necklace from its pouch and placing it in the palm of my hand with the utmost delicacy. 

*Please be careful with it,” she whispered. 

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else,” I promised, looking down into my hand. 

And there it was. 

The necklace itself, in all its glory. 

The thin silver chain was immaculate. Not a tangle or sign of tarnish to be seen, even after its twenty years of living in a pouch. And the purple crystal attached to the chain, brilliant and sparkling and perfectly polished, looked like something that belonged in a museum. Something priceless… timeless, that should never be handled by mortal hands. 

No wonder she was so protective of it. 

And it was nearly a dead ringer to the bracelet I’d found mere hours ago. 

“It really is stunning, you know,” I murmured after a while, my gaze flickering between her curious stare and the item in my hand. “Unlike any piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen before. Not even my mother has ever owned something so unique. Did you by chance make it yourself?” 

Maeve seemed particularly surprised by this. 

“I never told…?” she started to ask until the words slowly died in her mouth. The slight guilt that weighed on her features did not slip past me, but I left it alone. “I… suppose I didn’t. I’m sorry, I thought I told you,” 

I shook my head. “We just haven’t taken the time to talk about it.” 

“It used to be my mother’s,” Maeve admitted, gazing at the necklace. Her blue eyes glowed with purple, despite the warm lamplight 

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around us. “It was the only thing of hers that my that I was allowed to keep” 

Hearing her confirm that the necklace had once belonged to her mother made my stomach twist a little, but I kept myself in check. All of my concerns were still purely circumstantial. For all I knew, her mother might have only had a unique taste in jewelry and had fashioned the necklace herself, unaware of where the style might have originated from. 

I needed to know what Maeve knew–if there was anything she could share. 

“You never really talk about her. Do you know anything about her?” I tried to gently prod. “What pack she might have come from, perhaps…” 

She opened her mouth, poised to answer my question, but nothing came out at first. “I.. I don’t know, actually,” she tentatively said after a while. “My father never told me anything about her. He always avoided the subject whenever I brought it up.” 

“You don’t need him to get answers. We can figure out what your mother might’ve been by the size of your wolf” 

Maeve blinked. “My wolf?” 

“Yes. One’s rank determines what size wolf one has. Alpha wolves grow up to six feet tall and are built for battle, but omega wolves can stand as much as a foot shorter, with significantly less prowess and muscle mass,” I explained. “How big is your wolf?” 

I was met with uncertain silence. 

My pulse sped up ever so slightly. “You have shifted before, haven’t you?” 

Maeve fidgeted under my gaze. “Um… actually, no. No, I… I haven’t,” she admitted, shocking me. “Sarah hasn’t either,” she added quickly once she saw surprise flicker across my face, “but she’s only just turned eighteen.” 

My inner conflict deepened in light of this new revelation. 

It was entirely possible for her wolf to be delayed because of… special circumstances. I still had no real idea of what she was subjected to growing up—what sort of strenuous physical labor or malnutrition she might have been forced to deal with at the hands of her terrible family and how that might have stinted her development–and nor was I an expert on such matters… but never had I actually heard of 

such a case. 

Alpha or omega, one’s wolf always emerged around their eighteenth birthday. 

But Maeve was twenty. Twenty years old, with no apparent wolf to be seen. 

Something was not right here. The mystery surrounding Maeve’s mother needed to be looked into more carefully. 

“I’m not surprised something might be wrong,” Maeve’s quiet voice spoke up, reclaiming her necklace and putting it back in its pouch. “I didn’t grow up under ideal circumstances.” 

“No,” I insisted, wanting to alleviate her concerns for the time being. “It’s not common, but it can sometimes take time for one’s wolf to emerge. When it does, I’m sure it’ll be as breathtaking as you—with those striking blue eyes that I always love to look at… and thick, silky, black fur to match your hair,” I murmured, running my fingers through the ends of her hair. 

Having her in front of me, seeing her… smelling her…. touching her, I made up my mind then and there. None of this mattered in the end. I did not care if Maeve was half–wolf, half–bear, or anything else. I wanted her exactly as she was, no matter what that ultimately 

meant. 

I wanted her. All of her. 

Even if your wolf doesn’t emerge, I added silently, I’d never let you go. Not in a million years, nor a million lifetimes. 

She smiled, avoiding my gaze. “Perhaps one day,” she said, and I followed her eyes down to her protruding belly, where she rubbed the growing bump. “After things have calmed down.” 

“Of course.” 

I lowered my hand to hers, interlacing our fingers together. Unconsciously, my focus honed in on the feeling of her fingers locked between mine. How long and thin they felt, the roundness of her knuckles, how soft her skin was, despite her harsh upbringing. 

I loved her hands. But I couldn’t help but feel something was missing. 

“If I were to buy you some new jewelry,” I suggested, drawing her attention back to me, “something that you could wear whenever and wherever you’d like… what sort of styles might I go about looking for?” 

Her eyes widened a bit. “Why would you want to do that?” 

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Chapter 82 

I shrugged. “Maybe I just want to buy things my Luna might like.” 

She smiled, shaking her head. “I don’t need any. You’ve already given me more nice things than I could ever ask for.”