She read the letter again and again. And then again and again, and unfortunately, it didn't bring her any additional comfort at all. The contents were still as ominous as they had been the first time, despite the note of welcome within them.
What unnerved Maeve the most, was the fact that she just had to acknowledge that this letter was written by a witch. A real life witch.
How in the world did they know she had just had her Howling?
How did they know she had already been chosen by an Alpha?
These questions forced Maeve to acknowledge some of the aspects about witches she had not taken to heart from Aaron and Ryan's exposition two days ago.
Had they not said that Glendale practically belonged to the witches of the Old Coven – apparently called the Coven of Mareeda – and the New?
"Appear with the best physical impression at the gathering, or we will be forced to throw you out?" she read aloud.
"They are expecting the same from all of us. It sounds like they literally want us to look like walking gems. Or maybe roses. That's both haunting and exciting," Melanie said from the bench. She had set a cloth over it before she sat down, minding the cold dew.
"Exciting? What the fuck is exciting about this?" Maeve grumbled as she gripped the letter tight in her hands "Are we going to be exhibiting ourselves on some runway or something? I thought this was supposed to be a serious event?"
Melanie shrugged.
"It is, but you of all people should know beauty and prestige matter in any context," she said with a bit of sullenness. Maeve almost missed it. Melanie's letter made no mention of her beauty and prestige, likely because she had yet to find a backer. But Maeve wasn't too worried for her. The Vales Gathering, according to Aaron, was also a stage for aspiring Lunas to find support.
Maeve breathed out frustratedly.
"I'm really not into playing dress-up. If I wasn't scared of the witches, I would have probably shown up in my work uniform," she said. "Do you know what the witches look like?"
"Nope. Witches are a secluded bunch. My parents never told me much about them, but apparently, they are just humans with extraordinary powers."
Maeve kept imagining long noses with warts, and pointed hats.
But in any case, she was glad to share with Melanie the matter about this letter. She couldn't have handled it alone.
When she first read it, unimaginable panic had consumed her. The first thing she had latched onto was the fact that this Jennifer Haslow who wrote the letter, was up-to-date with all the events happening in Maeve's life. The fact that the letter had been delivered to the Pages' house only emphasised the newly awakened wolf's fears.
The witches knew everything, and that was an additional layer of danger on the people Maeve cared about. But unfortunately, she couldn't tell them. She could confide in Bridget. She couldn't, not under any circumstance!
She had had to deal with the contents of the letter on her own until morning came, and she had found herself dialling Melanie's number. She hadn't thought she'd need it so soon.
And here they were, sitting in the still silent Verdant Jungle Memorial Park.
"So, about that Alpha who's interested in you…" Melanie said, wiggling her fingers nervously. "Have you met him? Is he handsome? Do you like him back?"
"No. Probably not. And no," Maeve hissed with a tsk. "He couldn't be bothered to show himself. He had to send someone else. Stephen Bargrave or whatever."
"Oh..."
Maeve suddenly realised she might have been coming off as insensitive and prissy. The fact that she could dismiss an Alpha who was interested in her when Melanie had none looking her way sounded luxurious. She sighed, a little embarrassed.
"Anyway, I'm really scared about what might happen if I show up underdressed – by Jennifer's standard," she said. "If you're an expert in clothing – extravagant, over-the-top clothing – I'd really appreciate it if you took me along to pick something nice."
Melanie beamed. She suddenly looked as though she had been waiting to hear this exact line from Maeve.
"Yes! The answer is yes! And don't even think about backing out! In fact, I've decided. How about we go pick some outfits today, hmm? We can go after you're done with work. I know so many stores that will still be open by that time. Custom places too! Though, I guess there's really no time for made-to-order. But wow, I can't wait!" Melanie shrieked.
Maeve was already starting to regret it.
For some reason, a vision of Billy asking her why she never wore skirts floated into her mind.
Melanie was close to bursting with excitement. Her enthusiasm was neither unwarranted nor misguided. Maeve agreed that they needed to get their duds for the Vales Gathering as soon as possible. Today was the 17th, so less than two days remained.
Maeve was about to tell Melanie to calm down when she suddenly caught a whiff of the smell of wet dirt mixed in vinegar. The scent was much stronger than Melanie's.
The two ladies turned at the same time, and found a tall, broad young man walking towards them. They both recognised him at once, but their reactions could not have been more polarising.
Ryan's long, dark brown hair, ever long, ever teasing his shoulders, bounced as he approached. His gaunt face must have been the stuff of Melanie's daydreams because she shot up from the bench when he reached them.
"Hey," she said to him.
"Hello," he returned, soullessly.
"Stalker," Maeve greeted with a nod, and Ryan scoffed.
"I wish you'd stop calling us that," Ryan said. He seemed have more he had wanted to add, but he stopped himself. He then looked at Melanie, who wouldn't stop grinning. "I assume you both got your invitations?"
Maeve waved her letter and Melanie nodded vigorously.
"Right. Aaron's assigned me to you two. Personal protection, he said. We suspect your lives will be in even more danger now, given what we were able to learn from Jake," Ryan said.
Maeve perked up.
"What? What did he say?" she said, looking frantic.
Jake was the vampire Aaron and Ryan had knocked out when they came to her rescue two nights ago. They had said they were going to interrogate him but the product of that endeavour had become less and less of a concern of Maeve's with each passing day.
Ryan looked between the two ladies.
"It seems the vampires might be getting some help from the witches in hunting aspiring Lunas."