Nova Pov-
I woke up that morning with my hair sticking out in every possible direction and a cursed heat still crawling beneath my skin. It wasn't fair—one kiss, just one reckless, infuriating kiss, and Damien Blackthorne had managed to burn himself into my dreams like a brand.
God, the way his mouth had claimed mine last night—rough, demanding, like I was some challenge he had to conquer.
It was just a dream but why did it feel so real?
It wasn't soft or sweet. No, it was hot. It was fire. It was the kind of kiss that made my pulse sprint and my traitorous body melt for one second too long.
I squeezed my eyes shut, groaning into my pillow.
Stop. Stop. Don't even go there, Nova.
I hated him. Absolutely, irredeemably hated him. Damien Blackthorne: sexist prick, heir to a throne no one asked for, smug bastard who thought omegas like me were beneath dirt. Gorgeous, sure. Devil carved from marble, fine, I could admit it. But pretty looks didn't erase the fact that he was poison.
The last thing I would ever, ever do was fall for a jerk like him.
I pulled myself together and left the dorms, determined to shake him off my mind. But apparently, fate had other plans because the moment I stepped onto the courtyard, someone darted into my path like she'd been waiting for me all morning.
"You!"
I blinked at the girl. She had chestnut hair that fell in glossy waves, and wide brown eyes that were practically sparkling with gossip. She looked… eager. Too eager.
"Uh. Hi?"
"You're Nova, right? Nova Sinclair?" she asked, already leaning in like she couldn't keep the words in her mouth. "I knew it. Oh my God. You're the girl. The one from yesterday."
I raised a brow. "What about yesterday?"
Her gasp was theatrical. "Don't play dumb! I saw it. Everyone saw it. You stood up to Damien Blackthorne. Damien Blackthorne. Do you even realize what you did?!"
I shrugged, biting back a laugh. "Honestly, I was more annoyed than anything."
"I'm Tessa, Beta class level," She introduced.
So she's Beta class just like Serena.
"Annoyed Girl, do you know who Damien fucking Blackthorne is? he's the most brooding, most feared, the most wanted boy in this entire academy. Do you have any idea how many girls would sell their souls just to have him look their way?"
That one actually made me snort. "Most wanted? Please. I'll give you the gorgeous part, sure, but past his pretty face? He's got nothing worth wanting."
Which was when, of course, an image of last night's kiss from the dream shoved its way into my head again. Heat curled low in my belly, and I cursed myself silently.
No. Stop. Do not remember how good his lips felt. Do not imagine what else he could do if he—
I clenched my fists. I hated my brain.
Tessa, meanwhile, had gone pink in the cheeks. "Nothing worth wanting? Oh, I don't know. I've imagined plenty." She giggled, lowering her voice in mock secrecy. "Like, if Damien ever cornered me in the library, pressed me against the shelves—ugh, I'd let him do things to me that would get us expelled."
My jaw nearly hit the floor. "You—you just say things like that out loud?"
"Of course I do!" she grinned, totally shameless. "I mean, come on, we're teenagers, our hormones are basically running the show. Everyone thinks it, I just… say it. And besides, you can't tell me you haven't imagined what it'd be like to…" she trailed off, wiggling her brows.
Heat flushed my face. "I haven't," I lied flatly.
Tessa gasped, scandalized. "Liar! Oh my God, you so have. Especially after last night. You two were radiating hate-flirt energy. Everyone's already talking about it."
My stomach sank. "Talking about what?"
"You challenging him." She smirked knowingly. "It's like, enemies to lovers, except your families hate each other too. A forbidden romance, tragic yet hot—girl, if I didn't like you already, I would be jealous."
I stared at her, then groaned, rubbing my temples. "Okay, one: there is no love story. Two: I'd rather kiss a snake than Damien Blackthorne again. And three: can you please stop before I throw myself into traffic?"
She laughed like I'd just told the funniest joke in the world. "Fine, fine. But I like you, Nova. You're different. Most girls just sigh over the kings and play dumb. You? You've got an opinion, and it's spicy. I respect that."
I gave her a wary look, but couldn't help the tiniest smile tugging my lips. "Well, I appreciate that. But seriously, I don't want to be late for my first class. Do you, uh, know your way around? Because I don't."
Her eyes lit up, and she practically grabbed my arm. "Yes! Let me show you everything. You're stuck with me now."
And just like that, I had a new shadow. A very chatty, hopelessly boy-obsessed shadow. I barely had time to nod before she was dragging me through winding corridors, showing where the dining hall was, where the dueling rings were, and which bathrooms "smelled the least like piss and potions."
By the time first class ended, My head spun, but Tessa grinned at me like we've been friends forever.
" Where's the principal's office," I asked when we got out of class.
"Principal's office is down the south wing," Tessa said, pointing. "But I gotta jet—alchemy calls. You'll be fine!" She winked and disappeared into the crowd.
Alone, I smoothed my palms down my skirt, nerves fluttering in my stomach. I needed to explain the accident at the museum—the crash, the damage. Apologize. Maybe get some clarity. Because no matter how I turned it over in my head, my car hadn't been faulty. Something else had happened. Something that smelled wrong.
The door to the principal's office loomed ahead, dark oak with carved wolf heads at the corners. I lifted my hand to knock—then froze.
A voice seeped from inside. Familiar. Too familiar.
My father.
My heart tripped.
"…she's not ready," his voice was low, tense. "The only reason I wanted her here was to keep her safe. They'll come for her when they realize what she carries. And she's not stable enough to—"
My stomach flipped violently.
She? Which she?
Me? My sister?
My fingers dug into the wall as my mind reeled. Why was he even still here? He was supposed to have left after the ceremony.
Snap.
I jolted as a small vase toppled from its pedestal near my elbow, shattering across the marble floor. The sound cracked like thunder.
Shit.
Voices inside went silent. Panic screamed through my veins. Before anyone could fling open that door, I bolted, racing down the hall, up a stairwell, and out onto the rooftop.
The air was sharp and cold, wind tugging at my hair. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to breathe, trying to make sense of what I heard.
That's when she saw him.
A boy dressed in the school uniform standing on the edge of the roof, his back to me, wind tugging at his shirt like it belonged to it. Broad shoulders, messy blond hair catching the sun, and that kind of careless stillness that only comes from either arrogance—or despair.
My chest tightened.
"Hey!" I called, stepping closer, panic flashing hot in my veins. "What the hell are you doing?"
He tilted his head, just slightly, like my voice was background noise. And then—he turned.
And God help me.
The face staring back at me wasn't one you could look away from. Striking jawline, dangerous smile curving like a sin he knew you'd beg to commit, and eyes so bright it almost hurt to meet them. I froze, my breath lodging in my throat, because whoever this boy was, he didn't look scared. He looked… amused.
Then, without warning, he jumped.
"No!" The scream tore out of me before I even realized I moved. I sprinted to the edge, heart slamming against my ribs, my stomach dropping as I looked down—
Only… nothing.
No body.
No broken bones.
No blood smeared across the ground.
Just air. Empty air.
I staggered back, clutching the railing, my pulse rioting. "What the—what the actual hell just—"
A low laugh cut me off. Behind me.
I whipped around.
There he was. Standing a few feet away now, perfectly unharmed, leaning casually against the wall like he hadn't just jumped to his death. That smile again—dangerous, taunting, with a glint in his eyes that said he lived for the shock painted across my face.
"You scream loud for a girl who doesn't even know me," he drawled, voice smooth, threaded with arrogance that crawled right under my skin.
My jaw snapped shut. Anger flared hotter than fear. "Are you insane? You could've died!"
"Could've," he echoed, pushing off the wall. He walked toward me with lazy confidence, like he owned the rooftop, the school—hell, the air I breathed. "But then I'd miss this." His eyes dragged over me, slow and deliberate, before meeting mine again with a smirk sharp enough to cut. "The way you're looking at me right now? Priceless."
Heat flushed my face—anger, shock, something else I refused to name. I scowled. "You're an asshole."
He grinned wider. ".Yeah... but you're still here talking to me"
And just like that, he strolled past me, hands shoved in his pockets, as if he hadn't just flipped my entire world upside down in under five minutes.
I stood frozen, pulse still erratic, my mind screaming one truth louder than the rest:
I didn't know who the hell he was, but something told me—this wasn't the last time I'd see him.