Chapter 17 Nova #2
Zeth didn’t fight back, raising his hands like a man who had learned how to be careful. “She’s not my type,” he said, eyes flicking to me with something unnameable that made my chest bruise and swell at once. “I’ve always seen her like a little sister, not a woman.”
I could hear Gideon’s teeth rattle, and I moved between them without thinking, my palm landing on Gideon’s arm. “You can’t have it both ways,” I said. “You can’t crucify him for not wanting her, especially when you didn’t want him to begin with.”
Gideon shoved him against the wall again, a warning, before he slowly let go, his face collapsing into a tired kind of defeat.
“You're right, Nova,” he whispered. “I know you are, but…” He swallowed hard before facing me. “I don't want to be the one to see her eyes go dim when her little crush on this asshole,” he threw his thumb at Zeth, “goes fucking south.”
Gideon rubbed his hands over his face again and took a long, deep breath before asking me, “Can you tell her? She respects you.”
My jaw ticked as I went back to my desk. Several emotions flooded me at the thought of telling her to back off Zeth, including my wolf itching to tell her to back off her mate, and that worried me. In the state I was in, I could do more damage than good, and Lucy was still Syndicate. Still family.
Zeth answered for me. “I’ll tell her. I’ll be firm but gentle.” His voice was low and calm, trying to put Gideon at ease. Gideon’s glare softened into a warning, the kind parents felt before storms. “You better not hurt her,” he snapped, then he stomped out, leaving us with the echo of his anger.
For a second, the room hung between us, words unsaid, the clench of something dangerous and tender. I watched Zeth’s hands, the slow tug of his sleeves, the way his jaw tightened as if chewing on regret. My fingers found each other under the desk because they needed something to do.
“Thanks,” I said, but the word felt thin. We stood there, two people with more between them than either wanted to name, the air tasting of restraint and longing.
*“Where did you go this morning?”
His voice was smooth, too smooth. It held the kind of calm that was as peaceful as a blade pressed against the skin. I didn’t need to look up to feel the heat of his gaze drilling into the side of my face.
“For a run,” I said, keeping my tone flat. “Letting my wolf out.”
The sound of my voice felt foreign, too controlled, too casual. My fingers twitched as I clicked through my emails, forcing my eyes to stay on the screen instead of him. The soft hum of the computer was safer than the silence between us.
He didn’t answer. I could feel the shift of air as he walked away. Zeth was too quiet when he wanted to be, too deliberate.
The door clicked shut.
I froze.
When I finally looked up, he was leaning against the door like he owned the room. His eyes were darker than I remembered, the kind of dark that swallowed everything in its reach.
“Finally,” he murmured, “you’re looking at me.”
I forced a tight smile, folding my hands on the desk to keep them from fidgeting. “Is there something you need, Zeth?”
For a second, he just stood there, lips pressed into a thin, angry line, then he took a step closer. “Yeah. I want to talk about last night.”
My throat tightened, and I looked away. The cursor blinked on my screen, mocking, steady, waiting.
“We fucked,” I said, pretending to type. “Got it out of our system. Let’s move on.”
The lie tasted like acid.
A soft set of steps creeped closer to me, making my whole body tense up. “What if I don’t want to move on?” I swallowed hard. “What if I want to do it again? What if I want to kneel down in front of you right now, part your sweet thighs, and—”
“Zeth.” His name broke from my lips, coming out sharper than I meant, but it was the only thing keeping me from drowning in the sound of his voice and the memory of his hands on my skin. The way his mouth felt on me as we fell into bed.
Then Gideon’s face flashed in my mind, his fury, his heartbreak for Lucy, and all I could remember were all the women who’d claimed pieces of him before I ever could. That hurt and anger from this morning began to run through my veins once again.
My tongue lashed out before I could stop it. “What the fuck, Zeth? Do you need it so badly that you take it from any woman you can get your hands on?”
His head snapped back like I’d slapped him. “W–what?” His voice cracked, confusion carving lines across his face. He looked to the door then back at me. “Are you talking about what Gideon was thinking? I told you, I’ve never thought of her like that!”
“You could’ve fooled everyone with the way you two were pawing at each other yesterday.
” My arms and legs crossed automatically, a weak shield against the anger clawing inside me, calling me to demand he pay for his betrayal with his blood.
“While I was fighting, by the way.” I gripped my arms so hard I thought they would break off.
His eyes widened like the realization just hit him. “Is that why you were mad at me yesterday?” His hand raked through his hair, tugging at the strands as he huffed and took a step closer.
“Didn’t you see me push her hand off me? She’s like that with everyone! I didn’t want to humiliate her in front of a crowd,” he threw his hand out, motioning to where all the fighters were training, “but if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”
His hand fisted at his side, eyes narrowed on me. “I’ll walk out right now and tell her there will never be anything between us. I don’t even find her attractive!”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, torn between feeling bad for the girl and being excited by the prospect.
It was very un-bossly of me. “No,” I sighed, hating how much I actually cared about the people under me.
“Don’t do that, Zeth. That's just mean, and I don’t want Gideon to kill you. Plus, she’s not the only one.”
That got him. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing as he stepped in closer. “What else?” His voice dropped, low and deadly calm. “What other misconceptions do I need to clear up so we can be together?”
The last word cracked me open, and my hand slammed against the desk. “I know about them!”
He blinked, brows pulling together. “Them?”
“The women that go to your place at night once a week!” I snapped, the words tumbling out faster than my breath. “You didn’t think I’d find out? You didn’t think I’d smell them?”
“Women?” His voice broke with his disbelief. “There are no women, damn it! I haven’t had anyone in my bed for six years.” His hands hit my desk hard enough to make my laptop wobble. “You think I could stomach touching anyone else after you?”
The emotion in his voice wasn’t anger; it was armored heartbreak.
“If you’re talking about the girls that I’ve posted around town to gather intel, then, yes, I’ve had females come to my house to tell me what they’ve learned and who was doing what, but that’s my damn job! It was better for them to meet me at my place so they didn't blow their covers.”
His words trailed off with a pained sound. “You thought I…. You always thought….”
Everything about him—the way his words cut off, his head hanging down, and his hunched back—hit me like a punch to the gut.
He circled the desk, moving slowly, deliberately, until he was standing over me. His hands gripped the armrests of my chair, trapping me—not with force, but with the weight of everything we’d never said. His breath brushed my cheek, and I could smell the truth on him, raw, desperate, real.
“I don’t see anyone but you,” he said, his voice breaking. “You’re my everything at work, but I want you to be my everything all the time.”
His words wrecked me in the best of ways, and I couldn’t help but lean toward him.
Hope peppered my mind until I remembered this morning.
The horns. Did he know we were mates? Was that the first occurrence?
If those words came from a place of awareness instead of ignorance, the sharp pain in my chest would’ve become unbearable because that would mean he’d chosen to hurt me.
“Why now?” The words came out edged and hot even though I tried to keep them from turning venomous. Everything I’d buried, every ounce of confusion, longing, and humiliation rose in a flood that burned my throat.
I shoved back my chair and shot to my feet, fists tightening until my knuckles cracked. “Why would you care what makes me upset? You rejected me!” I jabbed a finger into his chest, every syllable reopening a wound. “You. Rejected. Me.”
He didn’t flinch, but his eyes, those summery turquoise eyes, had gone storm-dark, pain streaking through them. His lips parted, breath hitching on words too heavy to swallow. “I didn’t want to,” he said, swallowing hard. “I’ve only ever wanted you, wanted us, since we were kids.”
That still didn't answer my question. I scoffed in his face, turning away from him. I was done feeling like shit. I was done not having an explanation.
His hand shot out, gripping my arm and yanking me back to face him. “I mean it, Nova.” His words rushed out, desperate. “I—I…”
The hesitation raised my hackles. “Don’t put yourself out on my account,” I snapped, tearing my arm free. The metal desk screeched across the wooden floor as I shoved it aside, heart pounding as I made my way around him.
I made it two steps before he caught me again. His inky arms wrapped around me from behind, locking me in place. My back hit his chest with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. His breath became ragged, shaking against my ear.
“I couldn’t control it,” he said, the words slicing me open.
“That day, when we sparred, I got so worked up, and it-it just burst out of me. My manipulation magic. I couldn’t stop it.
” His voice quivered as he rushed on, sounding almost panicked.
“I thought… I thought you confessed to me because I made you feel that way.”