Chapter 27 - Nova #2
Riot leaned back, her frown deepening as her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Takes a hell of a lot of magic and knowledge to pull that off. Some of those spells eat at your life force if you're not careful. Most mages won’t touch them.”
“Not unless you're paid enough,” huffed Calix.
“Or,” I said, pulling the blade from my jacket and laying it flat on the table, “they’re not using the usual kind of magic.”
The metal caught the light, the runes along its edge still pulsing faintly. Their eyes widened.
“This is the knife that I texted you all about.” I told them where I’d found it, about the man who used it, and about the wound it left on me. I mentioned Deslen and how he healed my leg.
Ezra’s brow furrowed. “How exactly did he heal it?”
I shrugged, playing it casual. “His saliva neutralized the curse. Fae jaguar thing.” Once Deslen and I figured out what was going on with all of us, I’d tell them it was a mate thing—or whatever the situation was.
Ezra nodded slowly. “Interesting. Good to know, but let's keep that quiet. There aren’t many of his kind left.”
We all nodded, though Aniyah was already smirking, her eyebrows dancing in the kind of way that made my ears burn. Why does she think she knows everything?! She knows nothing… I hope.
“Send the knife my way,” Calix said, getting that gleam in his eyes that said he was accepting a challenge. “I’ll see what it’s made of.”
“Will do.” If anyone could unravel what was going on with that knife, it was him.
“I’m still digging into this ‘doctor’ the leads have mentioned,” I said, leaning back. “Once I find something worth sharing, you’ll all know.”
Ezra’s gaze met mine, understanding and a clear warning in her eyes. I needed to find this man, and do it quickly.
The conversation drifted on for another ten minutes before wrapping up, all of us saying our goodbyes as their images blinked away.
Grabbing the handle of the knife, I could still feel the pulse of that blade like a heartbeat. I was going to need to double wrap this before I gave it to the courier.
Once everything was done, all emails and phone calls answered, my office turned into a tomb of silence. The last few days had been a blur of chaos and emotion. This was the first moment I’d had to actually breathe.
After what happened with Nick, I’d spent an hour running wild through the forest, trying to quiet my wolf before she tore something apart.
She fought with other wolves, went hunting for game, and by the time I came home in the middle of the day, I was covered in dirt and blood.
Zeth, Conrad, and Deslen had been waiting at the door, calm and steady, like they’d been there the whole time.
Deslen insisted on a bath, Zeth had movies queued up, and Conrad had Hellfire booze waiting for me in a glass. Even with my heart cracked wide open, they held me together piece by piece.
We’d curled up on the couch, one on each side, another stretched between my legs, watching movies until the sky turned dark. No one mentioned Nick. They just… stayed. Present. Warm.
Conrad left first, groaning about meetings he’d already postponed before brushing a kiss over my lips and heading out.
Deslen followed, saying something about his manager blowing up his phone.
Zeth lingered the longest, kissing me deeply enough to steal the air from my lungs before promising to handle the lieutenants and other Syndicate issues so I could rest.
Now, hours later, I sat alone in my chair, the hum of the computer in my office still echoing faintly. My gaze drifted over the wood grain of the desk, the patterns twisting like the thoughts I kept burying in that dark, quiet corner of my mind.
Is it because he doesn’t like me?
Nick hadn’t seemed to mind fucking me in the forest… but maybe that had been a mistake to him. Maybe he’d been at war with himself the whole time, hating the side that wanted me. Hating the side that saw me as his mate.
That thought gnawed at me as I sat there, staring blankly at the desk.
Why would he fight something so natural?
Something written into our bones. On our souls.
People spent their lives dreaming of this connection, chasing a bond some would never feel, yet he’d spit in fate’s face the moment it reached for him.
The second that realization hit, I dropped my forehead onto the desk with a sharp thud.
“God, I’m an idiot.” I’d done the same damn thing. Birds of a feather and shit, I guessed.
Yes, Zeth had rejected me, but I’d also been betrayed by men before. Staring down at my fists, I remembered how it felt when I’d heard Liam in that locker room. How it felt to be deceived by someone you thought was truly interested in you.
It was that kind of hurt, the kind that dug bone-deep, the kind that made you want to take the whole damn concept of choice away. But why? Why had I done it?
To keep yourself from ever being hurt again. To hide your weakness.
It was easier that way. I could tell myself it wasn't me, that I wasn’t unlucky in love. Men were just too intimidated or too scared, and none of that was my fault.
I could blame it all on the mate-blocker tattoo, but that was just an excuse. My shield. The reason I could claim I’d never found “the one” when I knew what the truth was. I thought “the one” had left me.
When Aniyah confessed that her tattoo had stopped working, two things had taken root inside me—hope and fear. Of course, it was the fear that thrived. It grew wild, tangling around everything I wanted until I couldn’t tell where it ended and I began.
So, how could I fault him for rejecting something that had been forced on him when I’d willingly done the same thing? I’d beaten him to it, denying myself the opportunity before anyone else could.
And the cruelest part was—I knew better. I’d grown up surrounded by fated mates, proof of what that mate bond could be like.
The more I thought about it, the clearer it became. Nick and I weren’t opposites; we were mirrors. Both lost between what our bodies screamed for and what our minds refused to accept. His mind wanted to stay human, so even if his wolf wanted me, he didn’t.
If that had been the only source of my pain, maybe I could’ve let it go. Maybe I could’ve stopped thinking about him. Then I remembered his true purpose. His betrayal.
He was a cop sent by humans to watch me, to see if I slipped up so they could take advantage. So they could take me and my family down. It wasn't the first time, but the fact that it was him, my mate, sent rage crackling through me, hot and sharp as sparks of steel.
My fingers locked together, knuckles whitening, and something deep inside me trembled. He’d played me. Betrayed me. Betrayed us.
But in his mind, he wasn’t part of that us. He was still human, just one cursed with fur and fangs. A man who hated what he’d become.
The memory of that cave and how he’d looked at me hit like an uppercut.
The way he’d pulled that boy behind him, shielding him from me like I’d tear into a terrified human child just for breathing the same air as me.
That hurt worse than the betrayal. That was how he saw me, as something monstrous, dangerous by nature.
The ache in my chest throbbed. We hadn’t even spent that much time together, but somehow, it was enough to make his judgment feel like a blade to the gut.
Yeah, I was rough around the edges. I mean, I’d grown up in a mob family.
Violence was in our blood—hell, it was the main way we communicated—but so was control.
We hit hard because that was how our world worked.
Supes could take it. We healed fast and bounced back, shrugging off things that would kill a human.
To us, losing an arm wasn't a tragedy. It was a major inconvenience.
That was why humans feared us. Why they whispered ‘monster’ behind closed doors. Why someone like Nick would never want to be tied to someone like me.
I slumped over the desk, exhaustion making my body heavy as stone. My mind was spinning between bad thoughts and worse ones until I stopped trying to rein it in.
If I’d been more his type, maybe he would’ve looked past my lifestyle, my past. Men did it all the time, falling for women who were bad for them because they couldn’t see past a pretty face, but not him. Story of my damn life.
The sting in my eyes warned me before the tears came.
I buried my face in my arms, trying to choke them back.
“Bet his type’s some fragile little thing,” I muttered into my sleeve, voice rough.
“Someone soft he can protect.” Men like that, they lived for it, and I was never going to be that. I couldn’t.
A single tear slipped free, hot against my skin. I swiped it away, furious.
Don’t you fucking cry over him. Don’t you dare. You’re the fucking Rossey boss. You have to be strong. Show no weakness. Strength is your only defense.
Another one fell, then another, until they came so hard and fast I couldn’t wipe them away, carving silent tracks down my cheeks.
My shoulders shook, breath hitching. This is so stupid, I told myself. He’s just a man. I have three other mates. Do the math, Nova. You still win.
But the truth cut through, soft and cruel.
He was supposed to be my mate, too, and he didn’t want me.
“Nova? You there?”
Dread knifed through me the moment I heard the voice. An image of my mom popped up in front of me, all warm and excited.
“My rose,” I heard Daddy Lex calling in the background, “you’re all-powerful and ethereal in my eyes, so you can do no wrong, but… I think you hit the direct button. Those are only for emergencies.”
Perfect. Of course, I’d chosen to have a meltdown in the one place where people could still reach me. I should’ve curled under my covers, in my bed, like a normal person. Hiding from the world.
“This is an emergency, Lex,” Mom snapped. “I’m their mother, and when I want to talk to them, it's an emergency.” Her logic slammed down like a gavel.