The air in this classroom was colder.
Both because of the fall weather and because of the way magic clung to the stone like damp shadow. There were no windows here. Just torches flickering in iron sconces along the walls, their flames blue instead of gold.
Nova sat near the center today, back straight, jaw tight.
She didn't like this room.
Something about it made her teeth itch.
At the front of the class stood Professor Malloran, lean and sharp as a crow perched on a grave. He wore layered black robes with red thread work across the shoulders — ancient runes sewn into his sleeves.
He didn't smile when he greeted them. He didn't introduce himself.
He simply waved his hand over a rune-carved desk, and a twisted object rose from beneath a veil of cloth.
It looked like a chain — black iron, scorched at the edges.
"Today's lesson," he said, voice dry, "is on hexed bindings. Instruments of control used by dark-blood mages to subdue or bind magical creatures and corrupted wolves."
No one spoke.
The object pulsed faintly on the table.
Professor Malloran paced, slow and deliberate.
"They cannot harm you in this state. Not unless activated by spell or touch. However…" He looked up. "Some of you may feel… effects. Echoes. Resonance. It will test your control."
His eyes landed on Nova.
"You. Moonveil."
Nova stiffened.
"Stand."
She rose slowly, throat tightening.
"Approach the binding."
She glanced at Elle, whose brows were furrowed in alarm.
"I—Professor—"
"Now."
Nova swallowed and walked forward.
The closer she got, the colder it became.
The chain on the table pulsed — softly — as if recognizing her.
"In battle, you hear and see signs of a cursed item if you look close enough. Observe and be careful not to touch until you identify what the item will do. Different curses cause different feelings in the body and soul." the professor said.
"Sir, maybe—" Elle started.
"Quiet."
Nova felt light headed. Like she was watching herself do something that she wasn't in control of. She reached out and her fingers brushed the iron.
Pain lanced through her.
It was deeper — like something inside her snapped taut. Like wires inside her chest pulling, twisting.
It grew more intense. To a point where it was unbearable. The sensation of a hot knife slashing her insides.
She gasped — eyes wide — but couldn't move.
The chain pulsed. It then glowed, changing from dark to bright silver.
The runes carved into the desk flared.
The torches flickered — once — then blew out, plunging the room into pitch blackness.
And then— Nova glowed, lighting the dark.
Her blonde hair lifted from her shoulders, floating as if underwater, strands glowing with an ethereal silver light with some gold specs, that shimmered like moonlight caught in snow. Her eyes blazed, not with fire — but with a cool, endless silver radiance, like a reflection of something ancient staring back through her.
She didn't look human anymore. She looked like a memory of the Moon Goddess herself.
And then— The chain cracked.
The iron snapped with a sound like a thunderclap, flying apart in two clean pieces that landed smoking on the stone floor.
Gasps echoed around the room.
Someone cursed under their breath.
Professor Malloran moved, fast — throwing a containment rune onto the table as if he feared something else might rise up next.
Nova stood still.
Swaying.
Until, just as suddenly—
The silver light in her eyes flickered.
Her knees buckled.
And she collapsed, unconscious, onto the stone floor.
______________________________________________________________
🌑The Pull
"…We'll double the patrols near the southern ridge and await confirmation from Cael's team," Finric said, arms folded, jaw set.
The advisors murmured approval.
Then—
A soundless crack tore through his chest. It grew more intense, right behind his ribcage. Pain. It was horrible.
His breath hitched. His hand went to his sternum.
"…Alpha?" Brutus asked, frowning.
Something was wrong.
Not here. Not in this room.
Inside him.
His pulse began to race. A pressure built at the back of his skull, like a scream trying to claw its way out.
And then—
His wolf.
Usually quiet, controlled. Now howling like it had just been wounded.
Xeon: Mate.
Finric's vision tunneled for a split second.
Xeon: Pain. She's in pain.
"Alpha—?" another elder asked, alarmed now.
Finric didn't answer.
He turned his head sharply—eyes flashing silver—and mindlinked the only person he truly could trust with this, as Finric was unable to leave this meeting.
Fin: Jax… can you locate Nova and bring her to me? It's urgent.
_______________________________________________________________________________
🕯️ The One He Carried
Jax felt a pain in his chest. Sharp. Unrelenting. His hand went to his sternum. Then Fin's voice came through the mindlink like a blade.
Fin: Jax… can you locate Nova and bring her to me? It's urgent.
Jax mindlinked Malloran open to Fin, so he could hear.
Jax:Is Nova Moonveil in your class?
Malloran only responded to Jax, privately. Not realizing it should have been left open to Fin.
Malloran: Now. Classroom Sublevel Three. She collapsed.
Professor Malloran didn't bother asking how he knew.
He was out of his seat before the meeting's end was even called, taking the stairs three at a time, ignoring the startled glances from passing omegas and patrollers. His wolf was already pushing forward — not panicking, but alert, ears up, claws itching under skin.
Please don't be dead. Please don't be broken.
His chest was tight, though he didn't understand why.
By the time he threw open the heavy oak door, the students were spilling into the hallway, whispering, glancing over their shoulders.
He saw her immediately.
Nova lay on the stone floor, pale and unconscious, silver hair fanned out like frost in moonlight. Her skin still shimmered faintly, her dark lashes twitching as if caught mid-dream. Steam rose off the broken chain beside her.
Malloran stood over her — wary, confused, shaken in a way Jax hadn't seen before.
"She touched a cursed binding and cracked it," the professor said stiffly. "I don't know what she did or how.. but—"
Jax didn't wait for the rest.
He crossed the room in three strides, dropped to one knee, and scooped Nova up like she weighed nothing.
The moment his arms wrapped around her, his wolf surged to the surface.
Protective.
Possessive.
Mine.
Again. It was a feeling he hadn't felt since his mate. The mate that passed away and the one who he still thought about everyday. Why did he care for this girl he barely knew? It didn't make sense.
"Come with me," Jax said curtly to Malloran. "You're explaining this to Elias."
He turned without another word and strode from the classroom — boots echoing down the hall, Nova limp but peaceful in his arms. Her cheek fell lightly against his chest. Her lips parted just slightly.
Every student in the corridor stared.
One boy muttered, "Is that the Gamma… carrying her?"
Another said, "She glowed. I swear it."
A girl whispered, "How is she still breathtaking unconscious?"
Ash, a friend of Nova muttered to himself, but everyone could still hear, "Born from the Moon Goddess herself."
Jax's grip on her tightened and he walked forward, pretending like he didn't hear them. She smelled so good. Intoxicatingly good.
He only heard the low growl in his own chest and the way her heartbeat faltered like a cracked drum.
He felt sparks where his skin touched hers.
His mind went back to wondering if she was his mate.
Why was the pull to her so strong? Why was her scent so intoxicating?
Yet his wolf didn't say mate to him.
But he didn't care. He didn't want to stay away from her.