Maeve Wiley Novels & Stories

Same way of looking at a person like she's deciding what you're hiding from her, and doing it fast. Maeve Hayes is beautiful. Early sixties, maybe, but wearing it like she negotiated the years down. Blonde-grey hair styled perfectly around her shoulders. Cream trousers. A dark green blouse. Gold at her wrists and throat. Elegant. Controlled. Cold enough that I feel it from the doorstep. Her eyes land on Declan first. "Declan." "Ma." That's it. That's the whole reunion. Then her eyes shift to me, and her expression doesn't move an inch. "So." Oh, God. "You're Maya."

I can't have him in the same state just earlier. "Greetings, Luna and Alpha Coven." I jumped and almost stumbled back at the sudden appearance of a man wearing a blindfold right outside the carriage doors. It's a good thing Quinn was there to catch my back if he didn't have to run his mouth for an untold remark. "Told you." "I apologize for startling you. I am the Lycan King Caius's attendant, Beau." "Where's Raedan?" The guy beside me snaps causing me to glare at him.

She crossed her arms and leaned against the edge of his desk, completely at ease, completely unbothered by the fury radiating off him. "Oh, please," she said. "That little intern? The one who's been following you around like a lost puppy? You expect me to believe you actually care what she thinks?" "Her name is Eveline." "I know what her name is." Maeve waved a dismissive hand. "I also know that she's a half-breed, an omega, a nobody from a pack that barely exists anymore.” She said, raising each finger as she listed them out, “And you…" She pushed off the desk and stepped closer, close enough that he could smell her expensive perfume that she always wore when she wanted something. "You are

Gisselle introduced, "Chelsea, this is Maeve Salazar. She is four years older than us. I usually call her Maeve. You called me early to meet me. Fortunately, Maeve is free. Why did you get up so early today?" "I couldn't sleep, so I got up." Chelsea gave a perfunctory reply and turned to look at Maeve. According to the information that Gisselle had sent before, Maeve was about thirty. Logically speaking, she was still young, but maybe because she was more worried about taking care of her children, she looked a little more haggard than her peers. Maeve was 63 inches tall and thin. Her skin was not white, but she was somewhat a beauty, clean and tidy. Besides, she looked very pleasing.

I say, before shooting my mother a glare from across the room and leaving. In the hallway I come face to face with Maeve Norrix, daughter of Bryce Norrix, leader of the Undying Moon Coven. Her full red lips are on me before I can fully take her in. Her arms wrap around me in a possessive hold, and her tongue slips into my mouth with a moan of desire. I feel her body press against mine and almost give in to the feeling before shoving her away harshly. “Dammit Maeve, what the fuck?” I groan out, pissed at myself for almost giving in to her again. She’s smart and she’s a good fuck, but she’s far too selfish and manipulative for me to ever trust her to be queen.

I take a sip from my cup to calm myself, I slightly lean back as I wait for her to make an appearance. The door opens and a petite body walks in. My eyes meet soft brown infused with honey color eyes, I think it’s hazel. My wolf howls in my head uncontrollably as he sees her, wanting to mark her and go raw with natural instincts. My gaze travels down her body desperately to see what Moon goddess has chosen for me. But confusion engulfs my head as I see her wearing a shirt and suit, further down I see pants. Wait, pants? Why?

Emily Warner, the crazy and happy go lucky side-chick in all of the stories. She is happy that all of her friends met the man of their dreams but she hasn’t. She has never met a man who even remotely loved her. As a kid, she always hoped for a crazy life story like beauty and the beast or toy story or finding nemo. But she worked at a nine to five job, at the age of twenty nine, she was single, while all of her friends were either getting married or pregnant. And there she was sitting in front of the television, eating chips out of her hair.

But it wasn't Aria in the glass-walled shower. ​Through the frosted pane, I saw the silhouette of a woman. It wasn't the slight, fragile frame of the girl on the bed. ​The water clicked off. The door to the shower slid open with a hiss of escaping heat. ​Maeve stepped out. ​She wasn't wearing a hospital gown or the rags of a victim. She was draped in nothing but a thin, damp towel that clung to her curves, her skin flushed pink from the heat. She didn't flinch when she saw me. She didn't scream. She simply stood there, dripping water onto the marble floor, looking at me with eyes that were no longer hollow or afraid.

“I don’t want her to see me.” Maeve looked at me confused. I met her eyes, “that’s Lyla.” Maeve’s eyes bulged as realization dawned on her. “Oh fuck,” she gasped, “that’s the C.U.N.T that douche-canoe left you for?!” She whisper yelled back to me. I couldn’t help but chuckle at her choice of words for Lyla and Allister. “You would be correct.” Maeve sat back in her seat with anger in her eyes. I had never seen Maeve angry before, but it was quite unnerving to see the ray of sunshine that she was, turn into a fireball that could kill you with one look.

by Maeve in her room in the pack house was preoccupied with the strange mark on her wrist. It was an intricate illustration of a white wolf identical to Ulrika, her wolf, intertwined with a mysterious creature that shared some wolf-like characteristics, yet remained distinctly different. Ava couldn’t help frowning, her brows contorting giving her a fierce but cute look. “I need to talk to father about this” she mutters to herself feeling restless. As Maeve pulled her to her feet, Ava's thoughts were jolted back to reality. She gazed down at the stunning white gown that adorned her body, its sleeveless design showcasing her toned arms.