
Beacon Hills burned behind her.
Starling City doesn't know what's coming.
Beacon Hills – The Night Allison Died
The scream tore from Nova's throat before she even realized it was hers.
"Allison!"
The rain was cold, but the blood was warm. Sickly warm, soaking through the knees of her jeans as she hit the ground, scrambling to the body in the center of the plaza—her body. Allison's. Her girlfriend. Her everything.
Nova's boots skidded on stone slicked with blood and shadows, her heart hammering louder than the Oni's footfalls, louder than the panic pounding through every nerve.
"Allison, no—stay with me. Please—please, don't—"
Her voice cracked, her hands already pressed against the gaping wound in Allison's stomach, but it was too late. The sword was still embedded in her. The fucking mask still lay where the Oni fell.
Allison was smiling through the pain.
Her eyes fluttered. Her blood bubbled at the corners of her lips.
"I got it," she whispered. "I... protected you."
"You idiot," Nova sobbed, pushing hair from Allison's blood-slicked face. "You weren't supposed to die. We were supposed to get out of this together. You don't get to leave me."
Allison's trembling fingers found Nova's hand and squeezed.
"I love you," she said, so softly it might've been carried by the wind.
Nova's eyes flooded. "I love you too. Always."
Then... nothing.
The world tilted. The weight of silence crushed her.
She didn't even feel the shift coming.
One heartbeat, Allison was there—her body still warm.
Allison's chest stilled. Her eyes faded. Her hand went limp.
Something inside Nova shattered. Cracked wide open like brittle glass and spilled across the cold pavement. The grief was too big for her skin, too brutal for a girl to hold.
The next, Nova Hale exploded.
The Oni didn't have a chance.
She tore it to pieces, ripping flesh from bone, its sword snapping in her jaws like kindling. Blood sprayed the pavement, the walls, her fur.
By the time Derek and Scott reached her, the fight was over.
Nova stood over a pile of twitching black cloth and ash, her fur bristling, her mouth frothing with blood and grief.
She didn't shift back.
She couldn't.
She just howled.
For Allison.
For herself.
For everything she lost.
Two Weeks Later – The Funeral
Nova stood silent, arms wrapped around herself, dressed in black that didn't feel like hers.
She hadn't spoken in two days.
Cora stayed beside her. Derek stood behind them, as unreadable as ever. Scott sobbed openly. Chris Argent stood at the front, tall and broken.
The casket closed.
The ground opened.
Nova didn't cry. Couldn't. Not here. Not where everyone could see.
But she still wore Allison's jacket.
Still smelled her perfume—lemon verbena and pine, still sharp in the seams.
It haunted her.
Everything in Beacon Hills haunted her.
The Argent house. The high school. The Jeep. The preserve. Every trail she used to run with Allison—gone. Buried in memories and blood.
She needed out.
And the universe answered.
That Night – The Stilinski House
The couch was too big.
Or maybe Nova had just gotten too small.
She sat curled tight at one end, knees hugged to her chest, hoodie zipped all the way up to her throat like armor. Her hair was still damp from the rain at the cemetery. Allison's scent—lemon verbena and pine—still lingered faintly in the lining of her jacket. It clung to her like it didn't want to let go either.
The living room was dim, the only light coming from the muted glow of the lamp near the Sheriff's desk. Faint sounds drifted from the kitchen—Sheriff Stilinski boiling water, clinking spoons, moving around like he knew how to be useful but couldn't figure out what kind of useful she needed.
Nova hadn't spoken in hours.
Not since the dirt hit the coffin.
Not since she'd walked away from Scott, who had tried to touch her hand like that would fix something.
She didn't want comfort.
She wanted to scream. To shift. To burn the world that let Allison die in her arms.
Her knuckles were white from clenching the blanket.
"Nova?" the Sheriff called softly from the kitchen doorway. "You want some tea?"
She didn't respond. Just stared ahead, eyes blank.
A knock came.
Sharp. Precise.
It wasn't a neighbor. It wasn't a deputy.
Something about it felt final.
Stilinski frowned, drying his hands. He crossed the room and opened the front door slowly.
The woman who stood there didn't flinch in the wind.
Moira Queen was elegance wrapped in armor. Long dark coat, tailored to perfection. Her hair pinned back, not a strand out of place. Her lipstick was a deep, commanding red. And her eyes—sharp, scanning, immediately locking on to Nova the moment she stepped inside.
Walter Steele followed her, broad-shouldered and grim as ever, a quiet sentinel behind her presence.
"I'm looking for Nova Hale," Moira said.
The Sheriff glanced back. Nova didn't move.
"She's right there," he said, voice cautious. "She's been silent for a few days."
Moira stepped in gently, her heels clicking softly against the wood floor. She paused before the couch, not too close, but not afraid either.
"You may not remember me," she began. "But I knew your mother. Talia."
Nova's head turned slightly. Her eyes finally lifted. Barely.
Moira's voice softened. "We met a few times. When you were very small. Your mother and I were friends once—deep ones. Before the fire. Before the world changed."
Nova's breath caught. Her voice was a ghost when it came out.
"You knew my mom?"
"I did. She was one of the most powerful women I've ever known." Moira paused, studying Nova. "And she trusted me. Enough to ask me—before she died—that if anything ever happened to her, and if her children were in danger, that I would take you in. You specifically."
Nova blinked slowly. "Why me?"
Moira didn't answer immediately.
"Because you need help," she finally said. "Talia didn't say it outright, but I think she knew you'd need someone who wasn't afraid of the world you came from."
Nova's lip trembled.
She didn't cry.
Moira knelt in front of her, lowering herself to eye level without ever losing her poise.
"You don't belong here anymore, Nova," she said softly. "You're not safe in this grief. This town—this past—it's going to devour you."
"She needs out," another voice rasped.
Nova's eyes jerked toward the hallway.
Derek stood there, leaning against the wall like he'd been listening the whole time. His eyes were hollow, but steady.
"She's not eating," he said. "Not sleeping. She growled at Stiles."
"I didn't mean to," Nova whispered, guilt flaring for a second.
"You nearly broke his wrist," Derek added, flat.
Moira's lips twitched just a little.
"I can offer you space," she said. "Quiet. A school you'll hate a little less. And one person, at least, who will understand what it's like to feel like a ghost in your own skin."
Nova blinked. "Thea."
Moira nodded.
"She still remembers you. Ask her yourself."
Nova didn't answer.
Walter finally stepped forward, slow and calm. "We're not here to pressure you. If you want to stay, we'll respect that. But if you need to leave—if Beacon Hills is going to drown you—you have a place with us. You always have."
The room fell silent.
The tea kettle whistled in the kitchen. Unattended. Forgotten.
Nova stared at the floor.
Then, slowly, she stood.
Derek's eyebrows twitched. "You sure?"
Nova nodded, eyes still blank. But her voice—her voice was solid.
"I can't stay here."
Sheriff Stilinski stepped forward. "Nova, are you—"
She hugged him.
Brief, tight, and without a word.
He froze for a second—then hugged her back.
"You're welcome back anytime," he said quietly into her hair.
Nova turned to Derek.
"Tell Cora I'll text."
Derek gave her a firm nod. No emotion. But he followed her to the door and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll come if you need backup," he said.
Moira opened the car door.
Starling City waited.
Nova didn't look back.
She slid into the car, curled against the window as rain streaked the glass, her heart aching like a bruise that might never heal.
But in the distance—
A different kind of silence waited.
Not the silence of death.
The silence of something about to begin.
Six Weeks Later – Queen Mansion
Starling City gleamed like it had never known pain.
Nova watched it through the window of the car the day she arrived—shiny steel towers cutting the sky, glass reflecting sunsets like polished lies. It was loud, fast, a city that pulsed with money and control.
She hated it instantly.
The Queen Mansion was worse.
It was all marble and silence. Rooms too large, too cold, too clean. Staff that moved like ghosts. Everything smelled like lemon polish and power—nothing like the iron-tang of blood, or forest moss, or the comforting musk of wolves.
She didn't belong here.
Even her breath felt too loud in the halls.
Moira gave her space. Walter offered quiet nods and a few stiff dinners.
But no one saw her.
Not really.
Until—
Thea.
Nova had expected a memory.
A girl in denim overalls and scraped knees, who once dared her to climb onto the roof and screamed when she actually did it.
What she got instead was gravity.
Now Thea was sixteen, and drop-dead gorgeous.
Tall. Sharp hips. Tousled brown hair.
Eyes like stormy skies.
And a cocky smirk that Nova hadn't seen in years.
"You got taller," Thea said on Nova's first morning, leaning against the banister with a mug of coffee. She wore a tank top and tiny shorts that screamed yes, I know I'm hot, thanks.
They locked eyes.
Nova froze.
Thea smiled.
Not sweet.
Predatory.
Like she remembered everything—and was glad Nova had finally come back to see it.
"You got taller," Thea said again, sipping slow.
Nova arched a brow.
"So did you—and so did your ego."
Thea tilted her head.
"And hotter."
Nova choked on her own spit.
"What?"
Thea just smirked. Turned. Walked away.
Hips swaying like a challenge.
And just like that...
They clicked.
Like there hadn't been five years and a lifetime of pain between them.
A beat of silence passed between them—charged. Electric.
And from that moment, it started—slow and insidious.
Flashes.
The way Thea passed behind her on the stairs, one hand brushing the small of her back.
The way her eyes lingered too long when Nova wore anything sleeveless.
The faint grin when she made Nova blush—on purpose, and often.
Late nights became routine.
They watched terrible movies in Thea's bed.
Curled under the same blanket.
Bodies tangled at the edge of too much.
Thea stopped counting how often she woke to Nova's breath on her neck.
And Thea?
She didn't push.
Not until the moment Nova needed her most.
Not until the night the storm came.
-Smut starts here. You can skip if you want.
Starling City, Winter Rainfall
It started with a storm.
Rain lashed against the Queen Mansion's windows, the sound rhythmic, hypnotic.
Thea's bedroom was bathed in a soft amber glow from the single bedside lamp, half-lit, half-shadowed. A movie played on her laptop at the foot of the bed—some action flick neither of them was watching.
Nova lay curled on her side under Thea's sheets, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other resting just near Thea's thigh.
The silence between them had grown warm over the weeks.
Shared grief.
Whispered secrets.
Late-night laughter.
But this was different.
Nova turned her head.
Thea was watching her.
Their eyes locked.
Something shifted.
Nova's lips parted. Her breath hitched, subtle but telling.
Thea's gaze dropped to her mouth for just a beat too long, her tongue brushing her own lower lip unconsciously.
"Can I kiss you?" Thea asked softly.
Nova nodded—so small, so afraid to break the moment it almost wasn't a movement at all.
Thea leaned in.
Thea's hand slid up Nova's neck, fingers tangling in her hair, the kiss deepening into something hungrier, wetter, urgent.
Nova whimpered—soft and breathy—and that sound lit something primal in Thea's eyes.
The kiss was gentle at first—uncertain, soft, the tentative press of lips like a question searching for permission.
But when Nova's fingers curled into Thea's hoodie and pulled her closer, everything ignited.
Thea's hand slid up Nova's neck, fingers tangling in her hair, the kiss deepening into something hungrier, wetter, more urgent.
Nova whimpered, soft and breathy, and that sound made something primal flicker in Thea's eyes.
Thea pushed forward, gently guiding Nova onto her back, one leg slipping between hers as she leaned over her.
"I'm not like other girls," Thea whispered, voice rough. "I mean... I have—"
Nova kissed her again, fiercer. "I don't care," she growled. "You're still Thea."
"Tell me to stop," Thea whispered, her breath hot against Nova's lips.
"I won't." Nova whispered back, voice trembling, pupils blown wide.
Thea kissed her again—deeper, fiercer, her tongue sliding past Nova's lips like she meant to possess and own her.
And Nova?
Nova melted beneath her like butter to flame.
Touch
Hands wandered.
Thea's fingers slid beneath Nova's hoodie—one of Thea's own, oversized and warm—rising up the curve of her belly, exploring.
Nova arched into her touch with a soft gasp, every nerve raw, alive, needy.
"You're so soft," Thea murmured against her skin, dragging her lips down Nova's throat, her tongue flicking along the pulse point.
Nova gasped, her thighs tightening around Thea's waist.
"Thea—" she breathed, eyes fluttering closed. "God—"
"Don't close your eyes," Thea growled, voice low and possessive. "I wanna watch you fall apart."
Nova obeyed, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-bitten and parted, every inch of her trembling.
Thea slid lower, pulling the hoodie up and off, revealing Nova's bare chest beneath. Her breasts were small, perky, perfect, nipples already hard from the chill and anticipation.
"Fuck, Nova." Thea hissed, leaning in to suck one nipple into her mouth, biting gently—not breaking skin, just enough pressure to make Nova squirm and moan, high and breathless.
Thea's hand slid between Nova's legs, over cotton shorts already damp. Nova bit her lip hard as Thea's fingers rubbed slow, firm circles against the soaked fabric.
"You're dripping," Thea teased, licking back up to her neck. "You want this that bad?"
Nova nodded, frantic.
Nova nodded frantically. "Yes—fuck—please—"
Thea smirked.
She pulled Nova's shorts down slowly, teasing, exposing inch by inch of flushed skin and glistening slickness. Nova whimpered, her thighs twitching open wider.
"No panties?" Thea asked, grinning.
Nova turned red. "Didn't think I'd need them—"
"You didn't," Thea murmured.
Then her fingers were inside.
Two slipped in with ease, Nova's pussy so slick and tight it clenched around them immediately. Nova arched off the bed, a choked cry ripping from her lips, eyes wide, pupils nearly full black.Thea kissed her as she fucked her slow, steady, curling her fingers just right.
Thea fucked her slow—fingers curling, watching Nova unravel.
Every moan.
Every breath.
Every twitch of her hips.
Nova gasped, back arching again. "Shit—Thea—fuck—you're gonna—gonna make me—"
"Come for me," Thea whispered against her mouth.. "I wanna feel you break."
And Nova did.
She shattered.
Her entire body seized, hips grinding up into Thea's hand, mouth open in a silent scream before it broke into sobbing moans. Her cunt pulsed around Thea's fingers, soaking the sheets as she came harder than she ever had before.
Thea didn't stop.
She fucked her through it, slow and relentless, whispering her name like a chant until Nova was shaking, whimpering, begging for a break.
Only then did Thea kiss her forehead and pull away, licking her fingers clean with a wicked smile.
More
Nova stared up at her—panting, flushed, glowing.
"I've wanted that for years," Thea whispered, brushing Nova's damp hair from her eyes.
Thea straddled Nova, slowly, deliberately, her fingers dragging down Nova's bare arms like she was marking her territory. Her hoodie was long gone—Nova lay bare beneath her, flushed and trembling, dark hair fanned across Thea's silk pillows, nipples tight in the cool air, thighs already parted in surrender.
The storm outside roared against the windows, but all Nova could hear was the sound of her own breath, ragged and desperate, and Thea's voice—low, steady, soaked in hunger.
"You sure you want this?" Thea asked, mouth just above her ear, lips brushing her skin.
Nova swallowed hard.
Nova swallowed hard. "Please."
Thea kissed her—slow and deep, tongue exploring, teeth tugging Nova's bottom lip. She didn't ask again. Didn't need to.
Nova gasped as cool air hit her soaked cunt, thighs instinctively squeezing shut—but Thea pushed them apart again, firm and calm.
"Don't hide from me," she said. "Let me see how wet I made you."
Nova's cheeks burned, but she obeyed. Her legs opened wide, and Thea sat back on her heels between them, eyes fixed between her thighs.
"Goddamn..."
Nova's pussy was glistening—lips puffy and slick, flushed dark and glistening under the warm amber lamplight. Thea licked her lips.She slid her hands up Nova's thighs, spreading her further, and leaned in.
Nova thought she was going to be eaten alive.
Thea's tongue dragged a slow stripe up her cunt, from clit to dripping entrance, groaning against her like she'd just tasted something forbidden.
Nova cried out, hips bucking. "Oh fuck—Thea—"
"Mmmh," Thea hummed, licking deeper, devouring her. She sucked on Nova's clit, slow and steady, circling it with her tongue until Nova was shaking, her fingers tangled in the sheets, moaning like she was losing her mind.
Then Thea pulled back.
Nova whimpered.
And then she saw it.
The bulge in Thea's boxers.
She watched, heart hammering, as Thea sat up on her knees and reached for the waistband—slow, teasing. Her cock sprang free, hard and thick and flushed at the tip, already slick with precum.Nova's breath hitched.She couldn't look away.
Thea's cock was fucking perfect—long and girthy, smooth, veined, heavy in her hand as she stroked it once, slow and teasing.
Nova couldn't look away and stared, wide-eyed.
"Still want me?" Thea asked, stroking herself slowly, precum smearing across her shaft.
Thea kissed her again, grinding their bodies together. Her cock slid through slick folds, catching on Nova's clit.
She gripped Nova's hips and pushed forward slowly, her cock parting Nova's folds, pressing against her tight entrance.
She pushed in slow.
Nova cried out, back arching.
Nova's head fell back, a cry ripping from her throat as Thea stretched her open, inch after thick inch sliding inside her drenched pussy.
Nova couldn't speak—just gasped, legs shaking.
"So fucking tight," Thea hissed, gripping her hips.
When Thea bottomed out, she paused, panting. "You're perfect."
Then she started to move.
Each stroke hitting just right.
Long, slow thrusts that made Nova sob and claw at her back.
Each stroke hit deep, sliding against her most sensitive spot, making her shake, her breath hitch, her moans get louder.
Thea picked up the pace.
Her cock slammed into Nova, hips snapping hard, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the storm-lit room.
"You like being fucked like this?" Thea growled. "Like my good girl?"
"Yes—yes—don't stop—"
Thea didn't.
She slammed into her harder, faster, her cock pounding Nova's soaked, stretched pussy, her balls slapping against her ass with each thrust.Nova broke.She screamed, her pussy clenching hard as she came around Thea's cock, her whole body shaking with the force of it.
And Thea—
Thea thrust a few more times, then groaned deep, hips jerking as she came inside her, flooding Nova's pussy with hot, thick cum.
They collapsed together, bodies tangled, breathing hard.Nova's legs shook around Thea's hips, still twitching with aftershocks, eyes fluttering half-shut.
Tangled. Sweaty. Shaking.
Thea kissed her softly, fingers brushing hair from Nova's damp forehead.
"Holy fuck," Nova whispered. "That was..."
"Everything," Thea said.
"You wrecked me."
"You loved it."
Nova smiled.
Because she had.