Chapter 32
Dane
My mind’s still hazy from her taste, the way she came against my mouth, her thighs quivering around my head. I barely register the moment Nova’s dazed expression hardens into something predatory.
She pushes off the wall, suddenly steady. Before I can stand up fully, her hands slam into my chest, shoving me backward with surprising force. I hit the floor hard, air punching from my lungs.
“My turn,” she growls.
She drops down, straddling my thighs, and yanks my jeans the rest of the way past my hips. The denim catches around my ankles, effectively trapping my legs. Her eyes rake over my cock, hard and straining against my stomach.
“Look at you,” she says, wrapping her fingers around my shaft. “So fucking eager.”
I hiss through clenched teeth as she strokes me, her grip firm but teasing. “Nova—“
“Shut up,” she commands. She rises slightly on her knees, positioning herself over me. The tip of my cock brushes against her slick entrance. She rocks her hips, sliding my length through her wet folds without taking me inside.
“Stop fucking around,” I growl, fingers digging into her hips.
She gives me a wicked smile. “Make me.”
I snap. In one swift motion, I grip her hips and yank her down onto my cock. We both cry out as I fill her completely. She’s tight, hot, still pulsing from her first orgasm.
“Fuck,” she gasps, hands braced on my chest. Her nails dig into my skin, leaving red marks.
She starts to move, setting a deliberate pace; too slow, too controlled. Her head falls back, exposing the column of her throat. I reach up to grab it, not squeezing, just holding, feeling her pulse hammer against my palm.
“Faster,” I demand.
She ignores me, continuing her torturous rhythm. Rising almost completely off my cock before sinking back down with agonizing slowness. Each time she takes me in, her inner walls clench, dragging a groan from my throat.
“Is this what you want?” she taunts, grinding her hips in a circular motion that has me seeing stars.
I’ve had enough of her games. With a snarl, I plant my feet and thrust up hard, deeper than before. Her rhythm falters, a surprised moan escaping her lips.
“No,” I say, voice rough. “This is what I want.”
I flip us over in one smooth movement, pinning her beneath me. My jeans are still around my ankles, limiting my mobility, but I don’t care. I hook one of her legs over my shoulder, the new angle letting me drive into her harder.
“Fuck!” she cries out, fingers clawing at my back. “Yes, like that!”
I pound into her relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the cabin. Her breasts bounce with each thrust, nipples hard and begging for attention. I lower my head, taking one into my mouth, sucking and grazing it with my teeth.
Nova arches beneath me, her body a taut line of pleasure. But just as I feel her starting to tighten around me again, she plants her hands on my chest and shoves.
“Off,” she commands.
I’m too surprised to resist as she bucks me sideways. My cock slides out of her, the sudden emptiness making me groan. Before I can recover, she’s on top of me again, this time facing away.
She reaches between her legs, guiding me back inside her. The view is electrifying: her perfect ass moving as she takes me in, her spine arched as she leans forward slightly, giving me a clear view of where we’re joined.
“Now watch me,” she says over her shoulder, eyes wild with lust as she slams down on my shaft again and again, moaning each time she hits bottom. I grab her hips and move inside of her.
The sight of my cock disappearing into her pussy from this angle almost makes me lose control.
“Fuck, Nova. Slow down! I’m going to—“
“Too much for you, Alpha?” She smiles back at me, then turns 180 degrees on my cock, facing me again.
“Fuuuuck!” I can barely growl as the sensation of her twisting around takes my breath away.
She starts to ride me again, but this time there’s nothing teasing about it. She fucks herself on my cock with abandon, chasing her own pleasure. Her movements change slightly, and I realize she’s grinding her clit against my pubic bone with each downstroke.
I pull her down so I can suck on her breasts, and at the same time, my other hand finds her clit, already swollen and slippery. I start rubbing quick circles around it.
“Yes,” she hisses, movements becoming more erratic. “Don’t stop. Right there.”
I pinch her nipple between my fingers, rolling and tugging while my other hand works her clit. Her inner walls start to flutter around my cock, the beginning pulses of another orgasm.
“Come for me again,” I demand, voice strained as I fight my own release. “Let me feel you come on my cock.”
Her rhythm falters as she starts to tip over the edge. “Dane,” she gasps. “I’m—“
She doesn’t finish the sentence. Her body convulses, inner walls clamping down on my cock in rhythmic contractions. The sight of her coming undone above me: back arched, head thrown back, a broken cry tearing from her throat, sends me over the edge.
I grip her hips hard enough to bruise as my own release tears through me. I thrust up into her one final time, burying myself to the hilt as I come, filling her with hot pulses.
We lie there for a moment, skin cooling, breathing ragged. Nova collapses against my chest, her hair sticking to the sweat on my skin. The cabin’s quiet except for our heartbeats gradually slowing down.
After a minute, maybe two, Nova moves. No lingering, no afterglow. She simply sits up, pulls away, and stands.
I watch her reach for her clothes, scattered across the floor. She dresses methodically—underwear, jeans, bra—each movement efficient. Clinical. Like what just happened between us was nothing but a momentary distraction.
“You good?” I ask, my voice still rough.
She doesn’t answer. Just pulls her shirt over her head, runs her fingers through her tangled hair.
I sit up, muscles aching in a way that should feel satisfying. Instead, there’s a hollow space opening up beneath my ribs. I search her face for something, anything that shows what passed between us mattered.
Her expression gives nothing away. She checks her pockets, shoulders tense.
“Nova.”
She pauses at the door, hand on the knob, but doesn’t turn around.
I could say something. Ask her to stay. Tell her this isn’t just fucking anymore, and we both know it. But the words stick in my throat.
“Don’t try to stop me. I’m doing it with or without your support.”
She walks out, closing the door quietly behind her.
I lie back down on the cold floor, staring at the ceiling, the scent of her still on my skin, wondering exactly what just happened.
I drag on my jeans and tug my shirt over my head before heading out after her a couple of minutes later. My neck muscles are still tight, body humming with the aftereffects of what just happened in the cabin. But something’s wrong—I can feel it before I even reach the clearing.
The air feels strange, heavy with potential. Like the moment before lightning strikes. I quicken my pace.
By the time I get there, the wolves have already formed a wide perimeter around the clearing. None of them stands closer than twenty feet from where Nova kneels at the center. Their faces tell me everything: fascination mixed with primal fear.
Nova doesn’t look up when I approach. Her pale charcoal hair hangs differently now. Limp against her neck where it usually moves with that chameleon-like shimmer.
The violet undertones have deepened to something darker. More unnatural.
She’s focused entirely on her task, fingers tracing symbols into the dirt with precise, practiced movements. A circle of salt surrounds her, dotted with small black stones at cardinal points.
“Give her space,” Lyanna murmurs from somewhere to my right. “She knows what she’s doing.”
I’m not convinced.
Nova looks wrong. Her movements are fluid but somehow mechanical, like she’s running on muscle memory rather than conscious thought. Her hands move with surgical precision, but they’re not quite right either. Fingers too stiff. Too controlled.
The set of her shoulders is too rigid, spine too straight. Even her breathing seems different—deeper, more deliberate, like she’s fighting for each inhale.
More concerning is the energy coming off her. Her usual signature, wild honey and citrus magic, now pulses with something darker. Oily. Foreign. The scent makes my wolf recoil, hackles raised.
She begins the ritual without ceremony. First, the salt line glows faintly blue. Then she draws a small blade across her palm, letting blood drip onto the symbols she’s drawn. The scent hits me instantly; metallic, yes, but with that same wrongness underneath.
When she lights the small pyre of herbs at the center, the flames leap up unnaturally high, curling around her fingers without burning them. The fire shouldn’t be that color: deep purple with flashes of something that looks almost black.
My muscles bunch as every instinct screams at me to pull her out of that circle. To stop whatever the fuck is happening. But I hold my ground.
Across the clearing, Ben shifts uneasily, moving a half-step closer to Harper. It’s instinctive, protective; he doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it. Kari takes a step back, nostrils flaring. Even Rafe looks concerned, his usual calm mask slipping just enough to show what’s beneath.
Nova begins to chant. The language isn’t one I recognize—not Latin, not the old tongue of the wolves, something older and sharper. Ancient Fae, probably. Her voice rises and falls in a cadence that makes my stomach clench.
The air around her starts to distort, rippling like heat waves over pavement in summer. The magic builds, pressure increasing until my ears pop. Several wolves whine low in their throats, backing away further.
I take an unconscious step forward.
“Don’t,” Lyanna warns. “Breaking the circle now could kill her.”
Nova’s body jerks suddenly, back arching. The symbols around her flare bright enough to leave spots in my vision. Her chanting continues, but something changes—her voice shifts mid-word, taking on a resonance that doesn’t belong to her.
The dual tones send ice down my spine. It’s still Nova’s voice, but layered underneath is something else. Something that makes my wolf want to bare its teeth and charge.
The wolves at the treeline shift nervously, some dropping into defensive crouches. I can feel their fear, their confusion.
Nova’s head snaps back, eyes wide open but seeing nothing. Her violet eyes have gone completely black. No iris. No gold flecks.
Just endless dark that reflects the unnatural fire like polished obsidian.
The foreign voice grows stronger with each word she speaks.
I take another half-step forward, hands clenched into fists so tight my nails break skin. Every muscle in my body is coiled, ready to spring.
Not into the circle. Not yet.
But close enough.