Chapter 20
Nova
Four bedrooms. White shutters. Blue door.
Brent walks us over and I can feel the energy shift before we even get to the porch. The guys are tired — we’re all tired — but something is different.
“Do you know what this means?” Rane says. He’s looking at the house like it just proposed to him.
“No,” Locke says flatly. “What does it mean.”
“Dude, this place is ours. Like, ours. We can make it our own. It’s not the Academy. It’s not some bullshit cluster housing. This is something that can actually be ours.” He pauses. Goes slightly red. “With Nova.”
I feel my face heat up. Kyron catches it immediately.
“Smooth,” Kyron says.
“Shut up. I meant — you know what I meant.”
“We know what you meant,” Beckett says. And the way he says it is so quiet and certain that Rane stops trying to explain and just grins.
It’s embarrassing and sweet and I hate that I’m smiling but I can’t help it.
“I wonder what the kitchen looks like,” Vaelor says, already walking toward the door. Because of course that’s what Vaelor cares about.
We go inside. The house is old. Wood floors that creak in specific spots like they’re trying to tell you something. Narrow staircase. Wallpaper that was probably pretty once. It smells like dust and firewood and someone else’s history.
Trey goes straight to the fireplace and crouches down to inspect it like it’s the most important thing in the building. Rane is already halfway up the stairs taking them two at a time. I hear him yelling from above — “Four bedrooms! There’s a bathtub! An actual bathtub!”
Vaelor disappears into the kitchen. I hear a cabinet open and a long, satisfied exhale.
“Nova gets her own room,” Beckett says before anyone else opens their mouth.
Nobody argues. Rane and Beckett take the one next to mine. Trey and Kyron across the hall. Locke and Vaelor at the end.
I close my door. Sit on the bed. The quilt is soft and faded and the pillow actually has some give to it and I should be grateful for this. I am grateful for this.
I just can’t stop thinking.
My parents came to Minerva with a baby who had no mark. With me. I can’t imagine how scared they must have been. All I know is how scared I’ve been, but it’s not the same thing.
I shake my head at myself.
I don’t like admitting that.
Minerva told them she was building something and they never came back.
Because they died.
I sigh and tug at my hair because even after all this time, remembering they’re gone still hurts so bad it hurts to breathe.
Twenty-six years.
Every house in this town. Every person. Every shifter in that forest.
Because of me.
I lie down. Stare at the ceiling. The quiet is so loud it’s almost a sound.
I don’t know what to do with any of it. Not my parents. Not the promise. Not the way Minerva looked at me like I was the answer to a question she’d been asking for three decades.
I’m not an answer. I’m a twenty-six-year-old with bleeding feet and no plan.
Something moves in the hallway. I hear a door open, low voices. I get up and crack my door.
Vaelor is in the hallway. Locke is leaning against the wall beside their door, arms crossed.
“I’m going to go check supplies,” Vaelor says quietly. “Maybe talk to Jonah.”
Locke nods.
They both notice me at the same time.
Vaelor gives me a look that’s gentle enough to crack something. “Try to sleep.”
I nod. Close the door.
I try. I lie there for what feels like an hour but is probably fifteen minutes. Every time I close my eyes I see Minerva’s face when she said “they never came back.” The thin voice. The composure holding on by a thread.
I sit up.
I don’t want answers. I don’t want to talk about it. I just don’t want to be alone right now.
Beckett and Rane’s door is three steps away. I knock quietly.
It opens almost immediately. Beckett. He takes one look at my face and steps aside.
“Yeah,” he says. Like I asked a question. I guess I did.
Rane’s on the bed, still dressed, staring at the ceiling. He turns his head when I walk in.
“You know you have your own room,” he says.
“I know.”
He pulls the blanket aside without another word.
I climb in. The bed isn’t big enough for three people but we make it work. Rane behind me. Beckett on the other side, facing me. It’s awkward and too warm and someone’s elbow is in the wrong place and I don’t care.
Beckett brushes the hair off my face. His fingers are careful. He doesn’t ask if I’m okay because he already knows the answer.
“You don’t have to be alone tonight,” he says.
My throat tightens. I nod.
Rane’s arm comes over my waist and I lean into it.
We lie in the dark and listen to the house settle. Floorboards. Wind. The faint sound of a door opening and closing downstairs — Vaelor leaving.
“He’s probably organizing their kitchen,” Rane murmurs behind me.
“Or interrogating Brent,” Beckett says.
I almost smile.
A few minutes later I hear voices. Faint. Drifting up through the floor.
Vaelor’s voice, low: “You knew something. Back there. When she said eleven.”
Silence.
Then Brent. Tired. Tight. “I can’t right now.”
A door closes. That’s the end of it.
Rane’s breathing is slowing behind me. Beckett’s hand is resting on the pillow between us.
I should close my eyes. I should try to sleep.
Instead I get up. Just for a second. I cross to the window to pull the curtain shut.
I look outside.
At the edge of the yard, just where the lamplight fades into shadow, there’s a shape. Low to the ground. Still. Watching the house.
The fox from the forest. Just sitting there. Like it’s standing guard.
I look at it. It looks at me.
I close the curtain.
I go back to bed. Rane shifts to make room without waking up. Beckett’s eyes open, find mine in the dark, close again.
“We’re in this together Nova, promise.” He whispers and I nod.
I lie between them and let the warmth settle around me.
I don’t know what I am yet.
But I’m not alone.