Chapter 30
Serafina
My final trial is tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
And I haven’t seen Ishla or Jax. The feeling of fear that used to be ever-present in my life—the feeling I haven’t felt in weeks—is back. And I hate it.
I hate it because now is not the time for fear. Now is not the time to doubt myself, to want to sink into a hole and disappear.
I hear a knock at my door, and truly, I couldn’t even begin to guess who it is.
Certainly not Jax.
Maybe Ishla? Or perhaps Theo, who has visited me multiple times since I saw him in the throne room. He’s taken it upon himself to continue my sparring lessons.
He puts even less effort into fighting me than Jax did, despite how many times I’ve begged him to try harder. But he’s adamant about not hurting me.
A statement that makes me groan.
Every.
Single.
Time.
But even so, I appreciate him taking the time to teach me. Especially because I’ve gotten better. Noticeably better.
I smile.
Moving to open the door, my breath catches as I gaze upon the one person I did not expect.
Jax.
And now that he’s finally here, now that he’s standing before me?
My throat feels like it’s about to close, threatening to suffocate me and all my thoughts, all my desires, as if such a thing could ever occur.
Not when I’m in the presence of him.
“You’re here,” I finally say when I’m sure he won’t say anything at all.
His golden gaze traces my face, his lips part as if he’s in pure agony, as if the sight of me alone makes him want to fall to his knees.
A sight I’d surely worship if it were to ever occur, one I might even be tempted to beg for.
He runs his fingers through his onyx strands, his other hand shaking slightly as he holds up a letter.
A fucking letter.
My brows crease as I take it from him.
This is what he came here for? To serve as a gods-damned messenger boy?
After all these days?
All these weeks?
I manage to tear my eyes from his just long enough to see who the letter is from.
Char.
My brow creases even more, and I frown. A fucking letter. I don’t even want to look at him.
“Don’t worry,” Ryjax finally says, clearing his throat as if a lump has formed. “You’ll see him soon.”
See him soon? That’s what he thinks I’m worried about? What I’ve been worried about?
I want to smack him. He more than deserves it, but for some reason, I can’t even lift my gaze to meet his.
I can’t move.
I can’t say anything, and then the bastard turns to leave.
Fuck. That.
“No,” I seethe, grinding out the word through teeth that couldn’t be more clenched. I drop the letter to the ground, and Ryjax turns to face me, his eyes pinned on where the parchment rests on the floor. “You don’t get to walk away. Not after all this time. Are you serious?”
I’m barely able to control my rage, and if I had felt this way two months ago, surely I would have already burst into a ball of fire.
But I’m stronger now.
More in control.
So my flames remain concealed beneath the surface of my skin.
But I still feel hot.
So hot, and he’s the reason why.
He opens his mouth, but before he can speak, my lips collide with his and everything disappears into a beautiful haze of golden mist.
Like a million tiny suns behind my eyelids, the most transcendent thing I have ever seen. A warmth like no other washes over me, drowning me, devastating me, radiating from the place we’re so intimately connected.
I pull myself closer, clinging to him like he’s the air I need to breathe, the one thing—
He hasn’t moved.
His lips are still.
His body tense.
And I freeze.
What the fuck did I just do?
For weeks now my feelings for the prince, this man, have done nothing but grow, tormenting every part of me, every waking moment of my day, and somehow, in all that time…never once had I considered that he did not feel the same.
Horrified, I pull away, and he lets me.
I turn my back to him as my shoulders shake—shit, my entire body shakes.
He doesn’t want me. Of course, he doesn’t want me. He is the prince, and I am no one.
“Just go,” I say, needing him to leave, needing him to not see the mess I am about to become.
Silence.
So much silence.
But I know he’s still there. I know he hasn’t listened to my command.
I can feel him.
I ready myself to turn, to face him, to let him see how undone I am because of him, but before I do… he speaks.
“Do you know why,” he says the words slow, ragged, and raw, as if he’s as undone as I am. “I call you Nova?” he asks through panted breaths.
My stomach twists, my chest squeezes, and my knees threaten to give out.
I say nothing.
“It’s not because of your last name, Serafina,” he continues, his words mixed with the sound of him moving closer.
“I call you Nova because to me, that’s exactly what you are.
” His voice deepens, a dangerous, velvet rasp that pulls me under, leaving me weightless and wanting.
“Your sudden appearance in my life has been nothing short of a bright light—blinding, unstoppable, cataclysmic. A celestial event so rare it rewrites everything it touches. You lit up every dark corner of my ravaged soul, and I will never be the same. And much like the stars and galaxies, the infinite space beyond what we understand, I can’t explain it.
I can’t name it. I can only feel it. That’s what you are to me. That’s the mess you have made me.”
The mess I have…
I turn so quickly that I fear I might crash to the ground, but before I can, his hands are on me. Strong fingers flex around my waist, anchoring me as though he’s afraid I might disappear, and before I can think, before I can breathe, he kisses me.
It’s raw, carnal, and devastating all at once, a kiss to end all kisses. A kiss that could only exist in a dream. But this isn’t a dream.
This is real.
This is him.
My eyes slam shut at the contact, at the desire to have one less sensory function, so I can focus all of my attention on just one.
I cannot hear.
I cannot smell.
I cannot taste.
I can only feel.
Feel one thing and one thing only.
Him.
And the feeling is insatiable. Like I could never get enough. Like I could live in this exact moment forever, and I wouldn’t spend a single second wishing for anything else.
But then his tongue glides over the seam of my lips, beckoning me to open for him, and I do, and I realize I was wrong.
This.
This is the feeling I need to die with.
But first, I need to live in it.
My tongue collides with his in a dance I’m in no control of. He is dominating, he is all-consuming, and I fucking love it.
His hands move, sliding along my torso to my back. One hand grips my ass while the other tightens around the back of my neck, his long finger reaching around, squeezing just enough to make me gasp, forcing me to lean into him. And he’s more than ready for it.
He hoists me onto him, and my back hits the wall as my ankles lock around his waist.
The kiss—if you can even call it that—continues. Never stopping, never wavering, never needing a moment to breathe.
I am lost. Time doesn’t exist. Space doesn’t exist.
Nothing exists but him.
He groans. The most delicious sound I have ever heard.
My hands find his hair, holding him to me, needing him closer, closer, closer.
I want you. I need you. My thoughts are a whisper in my mind as our tongues continue to battle, rough and unyielding.
He makes a noise that sounds more animal than man.
I have no idea what I’m doing, but I let instinct drive me, fuel me, and control me.
“Nova,” he moans, the nickname pulling me back to what he said before, about what that name means to him, why he calls me it, but then he grabs my wrists and forces my hands from his hair.
His fingers lace with mine as he presses them ever so gently on either side of my head.
He’s panting. I’m panting. But then he gives me a look that makes my whole chest heave.
No.
No.
“We can’t do this.”
His words slice through me, and I feel an ache in my heart that rivals the pain that came with wielding my flames.
We can’t…
“Don’t do that,” he says, gripping my chin between two of his rough fingers.
“Don’t you dare think I don’t want this.
” His eyes land on my waist, his hips grinding into me, making it clear exactly what he’s talking about and exactly what he wants.
“I want this. I want you,” he emphasizes, his eyes finding mine again. “But we can’t do this.”
He is the prince.
He is the prince.
And I cannot have him.
So, of course, we cannot do this.
I allow my legs to fall, leaving his hips and touching the floor.
He releases me, his hands no longer on my body, the places they left feeling cold and empty.
He turns to leave, and my eyes sting in a way they never have before.
My heart hammers because this isn’t right, this isn’t—
“Wait,” I say, my words surprising even myself, “you called me Nova only days after we had met.” A shining light, changing him forever…How could he possibly—
“I did.” He doesn’t look at me, but his fingers flex, and the tears that had been stinging my eyes start to fall.
“So…even then?” My voice breaks.
“Even then.” He takes another step toward the door, and my heart shatters at his admission.
Even then…he’s felt all these things, had all these thoughts…
“And, Nova?” he says, turning his head just barely. “You don’t need anyone.”
Then, he closes the door, and I fall to the ground.