Nova POV
When his skin brushed mine, it was like being shoved out of my own body.
A flash.
Fire. Screams. Someone's voice—hers—echoing through the dark. A girl with laughter too bright for the world, snatched away before he could save her. Kieran's hand reaching, grabbing at nothing, the sound of his own breath breaking as everything he loved burned to ash.
It wasn't just an image.
It was grief.
Bone-deep, ugly, endless grief.
I gasped and staggered back, heart slamming, my hand flying to my chest. My mouth opened, but no words came.
He—he lost someone. Not just anyone. Someone he couldn't live without. And I felt it.
"Kieran…" My voice cracked. "She—who was she?"
His eyes snapped to mine, sharp, panicked, then shuttered with that cocky smirk I hated. But it didn't cover the flicker of shock in his gray eyes.
"You weren't supposed to see that," he muttered, low, like it was a sin I'd caught him in.
Before I could press him—before I could demand the truth—the air shifted.
That voice.
Smooth. Lethal. Cold enough to slice through bone.
"Well," Damien drawled, every syllable a quiet threat, "if it isn't my favorite Omega playing rooftop games with another King."
My blood froze. I spun around.
Damien stepped out of the shadows, his presence swallowing the rooftop whole. His gaze burned into me first, then slid to Kieran like he was ready to carve him open.
"Kieran," he said softly, too softly. "You've got a bad habit of touching what isn't yours."
Kieran didn't flinch. His grin only widened, dangerous and infuriating. "Funny. I didn't see your name stamped anywhere on her skin. Unless, of course…" He tilted his head, smirk deepening. "You want me to check?"
My stomach twisted. Heat prickled across my skin. The tension between them was a noose tightening around my throat.
Damien closed the distance in slow, deliberate steps. He reached for me—his fingers cold and commanding as they curled around my wrist. "Come. You owe me something, Sinclair." His voice was low, steel hidden under velvet. "And I don't like waiting."
The word owe cut through me, though I couldn't breathe long enough to ask what he meant.
Before I could move, another hand clamped around my other wrist.
Kieran.
He pulled me toward him with a sharp jerk, his voice laced with amusement that was just begging for a fight. "Not so fast, Blackwood. I'm not done with her yet."
My breath stuttered, my pulse wild. Both of them holding me—one cold and merciless, the other hot and taunting—both refusing to let go.
The air crackled.
They stared at each other, faces inches apart, like wolves circling. Damien's jaw tight, eyes narrowed, fury caged in his calm. Kieran smirking hard, like every second of Damien's rage was his favorite form of entertainment.
I was caught in the middle, tethered to two Kings, heat and danger dragging me in opposite directions.
The silence stretched so sharp I swore it would snap and cut us all.
And I—
I couldn't breathe.
"Enough!" The word ripped out of me before I could stop it. "Both of you—just leave me the hell alone!"
Their grips loosened a fraction, surprise flashing in both pairs of eyes.
I yanked my hands free, chest heaving, and stumbled back. My throat felt raw, my skin burning where their fingers had been.
Neither of them moved. They just stood there, locked in a stare that could kill, the rooftop thick with something deadly and unspoken.
I didn't wait.
I bolted.
The door slammed behind me, the echo chasing me down the stairs as my pulse thundered in my ears.
Gods help me.
I didn't know which one of them scared me more.
Or which one scared me because I couldn't stop feeling something every time they looked at me.
The second I yanked my hands free of them, I ran.
I didn't wait for Damien's voice—sharp, low, commanding—to pull me back. I didn't glance at Kieran's smirk curling like smoke behind me. I didn't care who saw. I just… ran.
Down the rooftop stairs, past the echo of my own pounding heartbeat, I flew like if I moved fast enough I could outrun the heat on my skin, the weight of their stares, the electricity that still crawled through my veins from being caught between them.
By the time I shoved open the door to the dorm wing, my lungs were burning. My pulse roared in my ears. But the whispers were faster than me—they were already there.
Two girls leaned against the wall near the vending machine, eyes slicing straight through me. Their smirks were sharp enough to cut.
"Did you hear? Both of them. On the rooftop."
"I swear, she had Kieran Vale cornering her."
"No, it was Damien. He was the one holding her hand."
"Maybe it was both. Maybe she's just that kind of girl...a slut."
Their laughter followed me down the hall like smoke. My stomach twisted, my fists clenching until my nails bit into my palms.
Then I saw Tessa waiting at the end of the corridor, arms crossed, foot tapping like a drumbeat of impatience. She spotted me, her eyes narrowing, scanning me head to toe.
"Nova." Her tone was razor-sharp, like she'd been holding back an explosion. "What the actual hell happen? you look like a mess are you okay?"
"Where's Serena?" I asked, ignoring the question.
"She's in her room resting, she had alot to drink but she's calm now,"
I tried brushing past her, but she caught my arm.
"Don't you dare ignore me right now."
"Don't." My voice cracked, harsher than I intended.
Her hand fell, but she didn't back off. She shadowed me as I stormed down the hall, each step heavier than the last.
By the time I shoved my door open, I couldn't breathe. The dorm room walls felt too small, too close. I pressed my back against the door, chest heaving.
But even here, I wasn't safe.
The whispers seeped under the door, carried on giggles and mocking tones.
"Did you see them? Both Kings. fighting over her."
"Bet she loves it. Who wouldn't? but it must obviously be some kind of bet"
"Two Alphas and an Omega? Please, she'll spread her legs for both before the month's over."
The words hit like stones. My vision blurred, fury surging hot and choking.
Tessa slipped in, quieter this time. She crouched in front of me, eyes softer now. "Nova," she said, steady. "Talk to me. What did they do?"
I let out a laugh that wasn't a laugh at all. It was sharp, bitter, broken. "It's not what they did. It's what everyone thinks they did."
Tessa's mouth pressed into a thin line. She squeezed my hand, grounding me. "Then don't let them twist it. You know who you are."
But her words didn't untangle the storm in my chest.
Because I still felt it.
Damien's hand gripping mine, cool and unyielding, like he dared me to break away. The way his eyes had sliced through Kieran with a single look, but never softened when they landed on me.
Kieran's touch on my cheek, rough but startlingly human, pulling ghosts from his past straight into me—images I couldn't explain, a glimpse of pain so raw it left me gasping. And his smirk when Damien appeared, like he'd staged the entire moment for the sole purpose of riling him up.
My body still hummed with leftover heat, traitorous and wild.
"I hate them," I whispered, voice hoarse.
Tessa tilted her head. "Both of them?"
"Yes. Both." My chest ached. My nails dug harder into my palms. "I hate the way Damien thinks he can command me. I hate the way Kieran looks at me like I'm a new toy. And I hate—" My throat closed. I couldn't finish.
Tessa studied me like she wanted to push, but didn't. She just squeezed my hand tighter.
But even with her there, the whispers outside only grew louder.
"Give it a week, she'll be used up like the rest."
Something inside me snapped.
I shoved up from the floor and yanked my window open, gulping down cold air like it could burn away the heat choking me.
But the images didn't fade. Damien's eyes, steady and cold. Kieran's smirk, daring and amused. Both of them pulling me into their gravity like I had no choice.
And the part of me I hated most?
That tiny, traitorous spark deep in my chest that burned hotter, whispering what I refused to admit:
That being wanted by both of them—no matter how wrong, how dangerous, how humiliating—made me feel alive in a way nothing else at Noctis Dominium ever had.
I dropped my forehead to the glass, a bitter laugh breaking free.
I was supposed to be proving I belonged here. Supposed to be fighting to show I wasn't weak, wasn't fragile.
But instead, I was becoming the center of the ugliest rumor storm the school had seen in years.
Two Kings. One Omega.
And I was right in the middle.