Damien Pov-
The welcoming party was supposed to impress. Gold light poured from chandeliers, the string quartet had been upgraded to a DJ at the board's insistence ("modernize the brand," someone had said), and the faculty moved through the crowd like well-dressed ghosts, all fake smiles and old grudges. Tables of crystal flutes lined the walls. Black banners with silver wolves rippled in the air-conditioned draft. On paper, it was perfect to them.
I was bored.
But I did the rounds anyway—shook hands I didn't care to shake, let board members congratulate me for things that had stopped meaning anything years ago. Prodigy. Top of his year. Unbeaten on the mat. Cold, controlled, inevitable.I knew the titles because they'd been fitted to me like a suit. And like every fine suit, they felt tight across the throat.
Parties are the same everywhere. Loud music. Drunk laughter. Too many eyes pretending to matter.
I leaned against the column, bored as hell, letting the chaos swirl around me. This was supposed to be a "welcome celebration." What a joke. I didn't need a party. I didn't need anyone.
Girls kept staring. A few tried to come close, smiling like they already knew what my bed sheets smelled like. They weren't wrong. I'd had them all before—blondes, brunettes, curves, legs. They all blurred together. Easy. Forgettable.
Until her.
Nova Sinclair.
She was the one thing I couldn't figure out. The one puzzle I couldn't solve.
I hated it.
She walked into my world yesterday and shook it up like a storm ripping through still water. I'd lived my life on a straight path—school, power, fights, women, repeat. Nothing surprised me anymore. Then she shows up, glaring at me with those fire-filled eyes like she wasn't afraid of who I was. Like she wasn't afraid of what I could do.
And now, no matter how much I told myself not to, my eyes kept finding her.
The world was noise. She was the only thing I heard.
"Blackwood, right?"
A girl stepped into my view, trying too hard. Pretty, polished.
"I'm Serena, Sinclair" she said, smiling like she expected me to hand her my attention.
Sinclair huh? so she's the sister, I quickly noted how she was nothing like Nova.
"I've heard a lot about you."She continued.
Of course she had. Everyone had.
"Good for you." I didn't bother smiling.
Her lips twitched. "Maybe we could talk later—"
"Not interested," I cut her off.
Her face froze for a second before she smoothed it over.
"We should talk sometime."
"Not interested," I said flatly. "Excuse me."
Her lips tightened before she quickly masked it with another smile. She walked away. I didn't watch her go.
"Cold, even for you," Malakai muttered with a smirk.
My focus was already across the room.
Nova.
She came in with her little circle—Two girls, and a boy, I recalled his name to be Luca, the Beta's son.I knew who he was, but we'd never spoken. He was background to me.
Nova didn't even try to own the room, but she did anyway. Simple black dress, nothing flashy. But fuck, the way she wore it—like armor, not decoration—made it impossible not to stare.
And then Luca asked her to dance. She hesitated, then took his hand.
My jaw locked.
I told myself I didn't care. That it didn't matter. That it was none of my business.
Then his hand slipped lower on her back, bold, like he had any right.
And that was it.
I moved. The crowd parted. They always did.
I cut between them, caught her wrist, and pulled her away from him. Not gentle. Not asking.
"Hey—" Luca started, but I didn't give him the chance.
"I'm not asking," I said without looking at him. My eyes were locked on Nova.
She glared up at me, fire and fury in every inch. Her pulse was racing under my fingers. and I could see she hated that I felt it.
I leaned down, close enough that only she could hear. "If you're so desperate to be touched, Sinclair… don't fucking do it where I can see."
Her breath caught. Just a second. But I noticed.
Her chest rose fast, like she wanted to scream at me. Her eyes burned. Her lips parted like she was about to snap something back, but her heart betrayed her. I fucking felt it skip and I heard.
And God, that did something to me I didn't want to admit.
"You don't own me," she hissed, jerking her wrist.
I don't give her a reply.
Her face flushed—anger, embarrassment, both. She hated me. She wanted to claw my eyes out I could see that.But under it, I saw the truth she didn't want to admit. She felt this fire too.
Behind me, I heard Kieran chuckle. Malakai muttered something about me stirring shit again. Lucian stayed quiet, sharp-eyed, taking it all in.
I took her and hand, taking her out of the room.
I didn't stop moving until the music was a dull throb behind us and the hallway swallowed the noise.
Nova yanked at my grip, but I wasn't letting go until we were alone. When I finally did, she spun on me, eyes blazing.
"What the hell was that, Blackwood?"
Her chest rose and fell, flushed from anger, from being dragged, from… something else.
I leaned back against the wall, folding my arms like I wasn't burning inside. "You shouldn't even be at that party, Sinclair."
Her brows shot up. "Excuse me?"
"You crashed your car into the school museum, did you forget Omega? The principal's punishment was supposed to be cleaning that place up. Maybe you missed the memo."
A flicker of confusion crossed her face, then suspicion. "Funny, because the principal didn't say a word about that."
Her voice was sharp, but her eyes searched mine like she knew something didn't add up. Because it didn't. I was lying through my teeth.
Truth was, I couldn't stand seeing Luca's hands on her. The thought of him touching her—Beta's son or not—lit a fire in me I didn't want to admit existed.
I smirked, slow and infuriating. "Then maybe the principal forgot. Guess you'll just have to take my word for it."
Her lips parted, outrage clear, but she stepped closer instead of backing away. "You don't get to decide what I do."
Her fire scorched. And damn it, my body responded in ways I hated.
I tilted my head, closing the gap until I could feel the heat rolling off her. "You think you're untouchable? You think I didn't notice how fast your heart was racing back there?"
Her breath caught again. She hated that I noticed.
"You don't own me, Damien," she whispered, low but sharp, as if saying my name cost her something.
My jaw tightened. Her defiance was a drug.
I leaned down, lips almost brushing her ear. "No. But maybe I should."
Her eyes widened, chest heaving. For a second, the space between us throbbed with something dangerous—hate, want, maybe both.
And I hated how much I wanted to close it.
She shoved me back, just enough to put air between us, but not enough to break the tether. "You're impossible."
I laughed, rough, dragging a hand through my hair. "And you're in way over your head, Sinclair."
Before she could spit another insult, a voice cut through the hallway.
"Well, well…"
We both turned. Kieran leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes glinting with amusement like he'd walked in on his favorite show.
"Didn't know I was interrupting something," he drawled, gaze flicking from me to Nova and back.
Nova's glare could've burned the school down. "You're not."
Kieran smirked, stepping inside. "Could've fooled me.