Nova Pov-
The air between us was molten. Damien's words still dripped into my bones, hot and poisonous.
He stood too close, eyes burning through me like he could see the things I buried deepest.
"You don't belong here, Sinclair," he murmured, voice so low it vibrated against my skin without touching me. "You can claw, you can fight, you can spit fire at me all night—but in the end, you'll break. They all do."
My nails dug into my palms. "I'll prove you wrong."
"Prove it?" His smirk cut deeper. "You're not proving anything. You're trembling. You're already on the verge of begging."
"I hate you," I bit out, even as my throat betrayed me—tight, breathless.
He tilted his head, studying me like prey. "Hate is just hunger with sharper teeth." His gaze dropped, slow and merciless, down the curve of my body. "And you're starving, Sinclair."
Heat shot through me so violently I wanted to slap him again—wipe that cruel, obscene smile from his face. But my body didn't move. My body leaned in.
He chuckled darkly, knowing, and let the silence stretch, let me drown in it. Toying with me. Always.
"You want to know the difference between you and the girls you claim you're not like?" His words were velvet filth. "They admit what they want. They crawl to me for it. You?" He leaned close enough for his breath to graze my jaw. "You'll suffocate on your pride before you whisper it out loud."
"I am nothing like them," I hissed. My knees betrayed me, weakening. My pulse raced hard enough that I hated myself for it.
His smirk deepened. "Liar."
The word slashed through me, sharp as his eyes.
And then—
"Nova?"
The voice cracked the heat. My stomach dropped.
Tessa.
Her wide eyes froze on us—me pinned against the wall, Damien's body a breath from mine, his shadow swallowing me whole.
"Ohmygod—sorry—I didn't know you were—uh—busy—oh no, not busy—wrong word, totally wrong—" She flailed, hands waving as she tried to backpedal, her face red as her curls. "I wasn't spying, I was just looking for you and then—wow—this looks worse than—okay shutting up now."
I wanted to sink through the floor.
Damien turned his gaze on her. That slow, merciless turn.
Tessa froze like prey caught in the dark. His eyes dragged over her, cold and sharp, until she squirmed under the weight of it.
"Run along, little lamb," Damien said softly, lethal silk. "Before you trip into a wolf's mouth."
Tessa squeaked, actually squeaked, then bolted a step back—eyes darting to me like I was insane for being so close to him.
"Nova—um—when you're done—uh—whatever this is—come find me!" she stammered, before practically fleeing down the hall.
The silence she left behind was unbearable.
Damien smirked, slow and cruel, stepping back just enough to leave me breathing but not enough to leave me free.
"Saved," he murmured, "by a girl who still believes in fairy tales." His eyes lingered on mine, unreadable, burning. "Careful, Sinclair. She won't always be around to drag you out before you choke on your own want."
And then he turned, unhurried, walking away like he owned the last word. Like he always did.
My knees buckled the second he was gone. My chest heaved with rage, shame, heat.
I hated him.
I hated him more than anyone.
So why did part of me want him to come back?
The air still burned against my skin where Damien had been. I pressed my palms to the wall, breathing hard, willing the heat to bleed out of me. Gods, what was wrong with me?
The door creaked open.
"Nova?"
I whipped around, heart seizing—only to find Tessa standing there, eyes wide, lips parted like she'd stumbled on a crime scene.
"Oh. My. Gods." She slapped her hands over her mouth, squealing through her fingers. "I knew it! I knew it! You and Damien Blackwood—"
"We weren't—"
"You totally were!" She bounced on her toes, voice climbing higher with every word. "You were pressed against him like he was about to—oh gods, Nova, if I hadn't walked in, he would've had you—"
"Tessa!" My cheeks burned hotter than fire. "It wasn't like that. We were… talking."
"Talking?" Her brows shot up, skeptical. "Sweetheart, that was not talking. That was 'I want to rail you against this wall' silence. The kind of silence you only see in forbidden scrolls."
I groaned, covering my face. "I'd rather die than let a guy like Damien touch me."
"Mhm." She wiggled her brows. "Funny. Because I was the one standing in the doorway, not drooling in the dark."
I shot her a glare. "Have you seen Serena?"
"Oh! Right. Yes." Tessa snapped her fingers, like she'd only just remembered. "That's what I came to tell you before I walked in on your—whatever that was."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Tessa."
"She's in the lounge." Tessa leaned in, lowering her voice. "And Nova… you're going to want to see her."
---
The music hit us the second we pushed back into the lounge. Lights stuttered across the room, shadows and color bleeding together. And there—
Serena.
My stepsister sat perched like a queen at the center of it all, a glass in her hand, her hair gleaming under the lights. People surrounded her—laughing, gasping, eating out of her hand as she told a story with sweeping gestures.
"…and then Damien looked at me," she drawled, her voice carrying over the music. "Like he knew. Like he'd already chosen me."
Laughter, squeals, murmurs.
My stomach sank.
"Serena," I hissed, pushing through the crowd.
She beamed when she saw me—but it wasn't warmth. It was smugness. "Nova! Just in time. I was telling them about Damien's power. You should've seen it. Dark, dangerous—almost demonlike." She tipped her glass, liquid sloshing. "The kind of power that makes you want to kneel."
The crowd rippled with whispers.
Heat surged into my face—anger, shame, confusion. I grabbed her wrist. "Enough. You're drunk. We're leaving."
She yanked back, laughter sharp. "Always the little guardian, aren't you? Always pretending you're above it all." Her eyes gleamed. "But don't fool yourself, Nova. Damien doesn't look at you the way he looks at me."
A hush spread. People leaned in.
My chest tightened. "You're a fool if you think Damien Blackwood 'looks' at anyone. He doesn't choose. He destroys."
For a moment, silence. Serena stared, lips parting. Then she laughed—a brittle, sharp sound. "Gods, you sound jealous." She leaned closer, eyes glittering with cruel delight. "Do you know what people are saying? That you were in the hall with him. That you looked like you wanted him to eat you alive."
My blood froze.
Tessa shifted awkwardly beside me. The whispers were already rising, like a tide I couldn't stop.
Serena tilted her head, voice dropping just for me. "Tell me, sister. Do you tremble for him the way I imagine I would?"
I stiffened, fury burning through the cracks of my shame. "Careful, Serena," I said, low and sharp. "You're playing with fire you don't understand."
She smirked, reckless and wild. "And you're pretending you don't want to burn."
The crowd roared with laughter and gasps. My nails dug into my palms as I grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the circle, out of the lounge, out where the whispers couldn't reach.
She struggled, hissing in my ear. "Let go of me!"
"Do you want to ruin yourself?" I snapped. "Do you want to end up another girl he chews up and spits out?"
Her laugh was venom. "Maybe I'd rather be ruined than live like you. Bitter. Afraid. Pretending you don't ache when he looks at you."
I froze, heart hammering.
Because she wasn't entirely wrong.
And I hated her for it.
Serena jerked against my grip, her glass sloshing dangerously close to my dress.
"Stop embarrassing yourself," I hissed.
"Me?" She wrenched free, her voice shrill enough to turn more heads. "You think you're better than me, don't you? Just because you can throw around Daddy's name like a shield."
The words hit harder than the crowd's stares. "At least I'm not parading myself like some desperate little girl begging Damien Blackwood to notice her."
Her face twisted, sharp and ugly. "And what about you? Running into dark corners with him, letting the whole school whisper about how he had you pinned against the wall like a whore?"
Gasps cut through the crowd. My chest heaved, shame and fury bleeding together. "You don't know what you're talking about. Damien doesn't want you, Serena. He doesn't see you. You're just another face in the crowd—like the rest of the girls he leaves wrecked."
Her eyes glossed with rage. "Better a wreck he's touched than nothing at all."
And then—she shoved me.
I stumbled, heels slipping on the slick floor, and hit the ground hard. The crowd broke into a shocked hush.
Serena's face crumpled, tears spilling even as her lips twisted in something cruel. She turned and bolted into the sea of bodies, vanishing before I could gather myself.
"Nova!" Tessa dropped to her knees beside me, hands fluttering uselessly over my arm. A few others lingered at the edges, whispering. Watching.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to sit up. "It's fine," I muttered, though my voice shook. "Go after her. Make sure she's safe."
"Are you—"
"I just need a minute."
Her worried eyes lingered before she nodded and darted off into the crowd.
I pushed myself to my feet, brushing off the sting of humiliation as eyes darted away from me, whispers already spiraling. My chest burned—not just from the fall, but from the shame of being torn down by my own sister.
I couldn't breathe in here.
I turned and made my way to the rooftop. A place the has somewhat become my sanctuary.
The rooftop was blessedly empty, the night air sharp and cold as I leaned against the railing. My hands trembled; I pressed them flat to the stone, willing myself steady.
"Rough night?"
The voice made me stiffen.
I turned—Kieran.