Chapter 3 - Maisie

The pack center is quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that wraps around you like a heavy blanket, muffling the world. The hum of distant crickets drifts in through the open window. The air smells like late Spring, the trees and flowerbeds clustered around Rosecreek exuding a perpetual fragrance as the seasons slowly change. Occasionally, my chair creaks. All is silent aside from these small sounds: the flipping of pages, the scratching of my pencil, the whistle of my soft breathing.

I sit hunched over a book, surrounded by towering shelves that hold countless volumes of paranormal medicine, herbal lore, and shifter physiology. The library here isn’t grand by any means; it’s small and intimate, with books that have been passed down through generations of pack healers. But to me, it’s a treasure trove.

The air smells like leather, aged paper, and a faint trace of incense that someone must have lit earlier. Triste must have been here. I breathe it in, trying to let its scent calm me, but my mind keeps wandering. My fingers absentmindedly trace the edge of the page in front of me. A detailed illustration of a shifter’s circulatory system stares back at me, intricate and complex. It’s fascinating—how our bodies are so similar to humans yet so vastly different. There’s a magic woven into us, something ancient and primal, something I’ve always wanted to understand more deeply.

But understanding has always seemed just out of reach. It’s like this knowledge exists on the other side of a wall, one I’ve never quite had the courage to scale.

I remember my mother’s voice, cool and distant. I was thirteen. She didn’t hesitate to say it: “Maisie, you’re better off sticking to practical work. I don’t think you can expect to have a skilled career. You know I love you, but you’re not exactly the smartest.”

She didn’t mean to crush my spirit. She said it with this detached practicality, like she was giving me advice that would save me from disappointment.

And for years, I listened. I kept my dreams small, manageable. I made myself as small as possible, too.

The chapter I’m reading now is on magical healing, the way shifters can draw on the energy around them to heal not just with herbs and medicine but with intent and power. It’s a concept that’s always fascinated me, the idea that we have this untapped potential inside us, waiting to be unlocked.

But it’s also terrifying. What if I try and fail? What if I don’t have it in me to do what others can?

Outside, the wind picks up, rustling the leaves of the trees that surround the pack center. I pull my cardigan tighter around me, feeling the slight chill that’s crept in with the night. I’m wearing soft, loose, comfortable clothing I’d not feel comfortable anywhere else in, afraid they made me look larger than I am. But here, I feel safe, softened by the rhythm of the nighttime.

I sigh, leaning back, as the memory of earlier today flickers in my mind—Rafael sitting on the edge of the exam table, his dark hair matted with sweat and his gaze unfocused. The bruise blooming across his temple looked worse up close, the skin swelling around it, the beginnings of a nasty knot forming just beneath the surface.

“Just stay still for me, okay?” I’d said softly, pressing a cool cloth against his forehead. He winced, his jaw clenching, but he didn’t move. “You took a pretty hard hit.”

“Yeah…” Rafael’s voice was groggy, distant. “He wasn’t holding back.”

I didn’t say anything in response to that. I’d already pieced together what had happened by then. Bigby never confirmed it, but I’m not stupid. There’s only one person in this pack who’s been erratic enough lately to put Rafael in that state.

The thought of him had made my heart clench then, as it does now. I’d spent the entire time patching up Rafael trying to shove those thoughts aside, but they kept creeping back in. They always do.

“You’re gonna need to take it easy for a few days,” I told Rafael, examining the gash just above his eyebrow. “Make sure someone checks in on you tonight, okay? And if you feel dizzy or nauseous, I want you to come straight back here.”

Rafael nodded slowly, his eyes still a little glazed. “You’re always taking care of us,” he said, his voice lowering slightly. “We don’t say it enough, but… thanks, Maisie.”

I offered him a small smile, more out of habit than anything else.

“Stop it. It’s my job,” I replied, pressing a fresh bandage to the cut.

His gratitude seemed to make me hollow inside. I felt carved open somehow, as if this had been my fault. I didn’t apologize for what Zane had done, but I still felt like I should.

I glance down at the stack of books beside me. Books like these are my oldest and most dependable friends. Some are old, their pages yellowed with age, filled with ancient spells and rituals. Others are more modern, focusing on the science of shifter physiology. I’ve always been fascinated by this balance between the magical and the scientific. It’s what drew me to healing in the first place.

But fascination has always been where it stopped.

I’ve never been brave enough to take the next step and actually try using the magic I’ve read so much about. There’s always that nagging doubt in the back of my mind, telling me I’m not good enough, not skilled enough. That if I try, I’ll fail, and failing means proving everyone right—proving that I was never meant for more than the simple, practical work of patching up wounds and prescribing herbs.

But there’s a part of me, small but persistent, that wants to push past that fear. That wants to believe maybe I could be more. Maybe I could be like the healers in the stories my father told me. Maybe I could find that magic inside myself if I just had the courage to try.

Then again, fascination wasn’t where it stopped with Zane. And look where that landed me.

A low voice breaks the silence, startling me so much that I nearly jump out of my chair.

"Burning the midnight oil again, Maisie?"

I whip my head around to see Aris standing behind me, his tall figure half in shadow. He’s dressed in his usual dark attire, blending into the dimly lit room with a presence that’s hard to ignore now that I’ve picked up on it. How did I miss him coming in?

The Alpha of the Rosecreek pack carries himself with easy confidence, a commanding energy that always makes me feel smaller by comparison. His dark hair, streaked with silver at the temples, gives him an air of wisdom, though I know better than to assume his calm exterior means he’s soft.

“Aris,” I breathe, clutching the edge of the table to steady myself. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

He offers me a half-smile, his sharp eyes flicking over the open books on the table. “That’s because I didn’t want you to.” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice, but it fades as his gaze settles on the tome I’ve been studying. His eyebrows lift slightly. “Magical healing? I didn’t realize you were diving into the deeper stuff.”

I shrug, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “Just trying to expand my knowledge.”

Aris hums thoughtfully, stepping closer to examine the pages of my notes. His presence fills the small space, and I find myself holding my breath as he reads over my shoulder. I’ve always respected him, admired his strength and intelligence, but his proximity now makes my skin prickle with nerves.

“You’ve always been diligent,” he says after a moment, his tone neutral but laced with something that feels like… approval? “But this is more than just diligence, Maisie. This is dedication. Most healers would stick to what they know and stay within their comfort zones. But you’re digging deeper, trying to understand both the magic and the science. That’s impressive.”

I blink, taken aback by the compliment.

I’m not used to praise from someone like Aris—someone who’s seen more battles than I can imagine, who’s led this pack through countless challenges. My heart flutters with a mix of pride and doubt.

“Thank you,” I manage, my voice a little shaky. “But I’m just… trying to be useful.”

“You’re more than just useful, Maisie. You’ve got potential. A lot of it. And I’ve been thinking…” He pauses, his expression becoming more serious. “You know, I could use someone like you on the next mission.”

I stare at him, the words not fully registering. “On a mission?”

He nods, pulling up a chair and sitting across from me, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. He doesn’t crowd my space, just sits watching me with assured calmness radiating from him. In the dim, soft light, there is no forcefulness there. He comes at me with no demands, only a clarified expectation that I’ll at least consider his offer.

“We’ve got an infiltration coming up. Sensitive work, requires quick thinking and someone who can blend in. It’s not a combat role,” he adds quickly, seeing the alarm in my eyes. “It’s recon. Gathering intel, assessing the situation, and providing medical aid if necessary.”

My mind races, trying to process what he’s saying. I’ve been on jobs before; a few times in the last six months I’ve been on standby near the site of an infiltration. But this is different. I imagine all the things that could go wrong and they sear themselves into my mind all at once.

At the same time, a brilliant chill of excitement pulses through me. A chance to prove myself differently, to show that I can be more than this, more than something mostly unseen.

“I don’t know…” I hesitate, chewing my lip. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“That’s exactly why I’m asking you,” Aris says, his voice steady and reassuring. “You’ve got the skills, Maisie. You just need the opportunity to use them. This mission is low-risk, but it’s important. We need someone with your knowledge and your calm under pressure. You’ve been patching us up for years. Now, if you feel ready, it’s time to see what you can do out there.”

His words settle into me, planting seeds of both doubt and possibility. I’ve spent so long thinking I wasn’t good enough to do anything more than what I’ve been doing. But here’s Aris, someone I’ve admired for so long as a leader, telling me he believes in me and offering me a chance to step out of the shadows.

A chance to try.

“I… I’ll do it,” I say, the decision spilling out of me before I can second-guess it. “I’ll be part of the mission.”

Aris’s smile is small but genuine. “Good. I knew I could count on you.”

He stands up, pushing the chair back with a scrape of wood against stone. I almost stand, too, then think better of it. I don’t know what to do with my hands; I drop them into my lap, where they fiddle incessantly.

“We’ll go over the details tomorrow. For now, get some rest. You’re going to need it.”

I nod, still feeling a bit dazed by how quickly everything is happening. Aris turns to leave but pauses at the door, glancing back at me with an unreadable expression. He looks like he’s searching for something within me. After a few long seconds, he nods once and vanishes. Whatever he was looking for, he found it.

I breathe out slowly through my nose and glance down at the spellbook, its pages filled with ancient wisdom. Something inside me shifts like an unsettled tectonic plate.

Maybe this is exactly what I need: a push out of my comfort zone. A chance to prove that I’m more than what I’ve let myself believe.

But even as I tell myself that, I can’t shake the uneasy feeling in my chest that any moment now, the other shoe is about to drop.