Assigned & Departed
(Nova POV)
The principal's office smelled like old leather and authority—thick books, polished wood, and the faint metallic edge of pack power that always made my skin prickle. I sat in the stiff chair across from his desk, hands clasped in my lap to hide the slight tremble. The banquet was still raw in my mind: the stares, Kieran's steady arms catching me when I fell, Damien's hand reaching—then pulling back. And that almost-kiss in the guest room afterward, his forehead against mine, his voice cracking when he said he didn't know how to let someone in.
Now I was here.
Again.
With him.
Damien stood behind my chair, arms crossed, posture perfect, face a blank slate. He hadn't looked at me once since we walked in. The bond between us hummed—warm, steady, alive—like a second heartbeat I couldn't ignore. I tried to pretend it was nothing. Just the curse. Just a side effect. It didn't matter.
Principal Harrow leaned forward, sliding a thin file across the desk.
