Maeve Fanart Novels & Stories

“You’re making assumptions—” “I’m presenting facts,” Maeve said, unwavering. “Because I was there. Because I’ve been loyal. Because I believed in this pack and what it stood for, and I’m not letting it rot from the inside so that you don’t have to admit your son was part of it.” Silence fell. Then Maeve pulled out one final sheet, thin, translucent vellum etched in Sampson’s own handwriting, his seal pressed into the corner. A charm guide. Detailed. Specific. In his hand.

Her breasts brushed my arm but I did not flinch. "The same reason you're here tonight," I replied. "You've always been a man of very few words. I am not surprised you have nothing to say to me after the passionate nights we spent together." "Maruska." My attention immediately snapped towards Maeve, who had just stopped on the marble steps. She had an angry scowl on her face and hell, that made her even prettier. She had chosen the maroon dress and damn, did it look good on her. Pairing it with that emerald jewelry did the magic. She was smart enough to wear the jewelry with the same color as her eyes and heck, I was damn proud of her.

'You can never be too careful,' Maeve replied with a smirk as she slipped the necklace carefully over her tail, "There's not a chance that I'm leaving this off…' she muttered as she pulled it down to a satisfactory position, ensuring her fur hid it well. As soon as she was satisfied, she lifted her head eagerly and padded proudly out from behind the screen and across to the setting that had been prepared. The artist made appreciative gasps and agreeable noises as Maeve made her way past her, much to her delight. "Oh, such a beautiful, regal, Alpha Female! Just look at how her fur shines and ripples over her muscles… how her eyes radiate her primal power... just… I'm so honored that you would

He should as well get change. Maeve span around in the mirror. She looked so different from before, and sometimes she wonders if this was truly her. She touched her face. This was her? “Argh!” She felt a sharp pain on her chest. It came again. With force, pulling her down her knees, she groaned. Holding her chest. Her hand was black. And her long nails came out. She fell, hugging herself. What was this? The full eclipse was near, the sign. Green talked about, this was it?

Maeve slapped his hand away and moved past him, her eyes locking onto the trembling girl on the mattress. The blonde looked up with glassy, blown-out eyes, her chest rising and falling fast. She was beautiful with thick curves, swollen pink lips, and cheeks flushed a deep, burning red from Cedric's rough treatment. She looked about twenty, her youthful innocence practically radiating off her. Suddenly, a heavy, throbbing heat pooled low in Maeve's stomach. Her mouth watered. She loved seeing pure things broken. She held the girl's terrified gaze for a moment, then looked over her shoulder at Cedric. "Finish what you started," Maeve ordered, dropping into the leather armchair in the corner an

"Maeve, look." ​Maeve didn't look. She was staring at the horizon, her smile fixed and unmoving. "The sunset is beautiful today, isn't it?" ​"The flower," I pointed, my voice rising. "It’s bleeding." ​"It’s just the light, Aria," Maeve said, her voice sounding slightly distorted, as if she were speaking from the bottom of a well. "The sun plays tricks on the eyes. Stay here. Don't look at the shadows."

It’s exactly what I want our future to look like and seeing it makes my heart yearn for the future and my throat constrict at the thought of having everything in life that I’ve ever dreamed of. “Oh, wow,” Meadow says, and Maeve and I turn to see Meadow, Tate and Reagan looking at the image that Maeve has cast. “It was just an idea for furniture…” “It's perfect,” I interrupt her as she lets the image fall away. “Well, anyway, we won’t have to worry about that for a while. We still have Levana to deal with," Maeve says.

It’s exactly what I want our future to look like and seeing it makes my heart yearn for the future and my throat constrict at the thought of having everything in life that I’ve ever dreamed of. “Oh, wow,” Meadow says, and Maeve and I turn to see Meadow, Tate and Reagan looking at the image that Maeve has cast. “It was just an idea for furniture…” “It's perfect,” I interrupt her as she lets the image fall away. “Well, anyway, we won’t have to worry about that for a while. We still have Levana to deal with," Maeve says.

Maven said. “Do you have pictures or anything?” Aurelian asked. “Yes, a few of the pack members sent pictures,” he said, taking another file. He dropped it on the table, and we gathered it. Maven and I gasp. “Goddess,” Felix said. The pictures are terrible; I can’t even recognise the person. Their eyes are pure white, and their skin is black. Then, with red veins all over their bodies, they look hideous. “What is this?” I asked.

Her daintiness is a front, a cover for the beast that writhes beneath. She’s wearing a mask, but I’d know those eyes anywhere. I’ve seen them before–twice now–in person. The first time, she spilled boiling hot tea all over my stomach. The second, she’d been trying to hide herself in that grimy booth in that even grimier diner in Veiled Valley. Each time, those eyes gave her away. They’re the purest blue-green, like polished sea-glass plucked from crystalline, sparkling sand on a far off beach. Princess Maeve–soon to be Queen Maeve of Eastonia–turns her head ever so slightly, revealing the diadem resting on the top of her head, her hair woven through it to keep it place.