Warmth spread through Nova, slow and steady, like heat seeping into cold stone. Her ribs loosened. The ache in her leg eased. Even the pounding in her ears softened to a distant hum. She drifted with it, unresisting, letting the warmth draw her inward.
"Her rib has already started healing," a voice said above her, familiar enough that her chest loosened a little. Aeron. She would have known that tone anywhere. Clipped, authoritative, threaded with the patience of someone used to commanding stubborn wolves.
"Already? It's been less than an hour."
The second voice was deeper, masculine, and tense.
"She heals fast," Aeron said, a dark laugh catching in his throat. "It took her, what, two days the last time? When she was stabbed and drained of her magic."
"Yes. Only a fated mate could have done that," a third voice replied, steady and clinical in the way only Elias ever managed. "And with her being… well, her… nothing about her is normal. I think it was because of Jax."
Aeron's tone sharpened. "She did not use magic today. Correct?"
"No," Jax said. His voice brought warmth, rolling through her like a tide and pulling her closer to the surface.
The sound of him settled something in her chest, even as she floated halfway between waking and unconsciousness.
"Then she'll heal quickly. If she's too sore for Draven to put against a giant woman or three overgrown toddlers with swords… send her to me. I need her for something," Aeron said.
"She's not going anywhere tomorrow," Jax said, his tone edged with finality.
"Fine. Day after tomorrow. I'll mindlink her," Aeron replied, sounding far too casual for Jax's liking.
"What work do you have for her?" the other man cut in — sharp, clipped, the kind of tone that carried more resistance than curiosity. The same voice from a minute ago, familiar, yet still just out of reach. Whoever he was, he didn't like the sound of Aeron "needing" her one bit.
"Intravenous drugs and a wild orgy." Aeron shot back. "Use your imagination."
"It better not involve her passing out or her blood." Jax said.
"No," Aeron shot back. "I need her mind, actually." His tone was clipped and impatient. "It's beyond me why she's even wasting time in those stupid classes considering how sharp she is. Why is no one aware of this?"
Elias pushed back immediately. "No… I think she's exactly where she should be," he said, crossing his arms. "Unless you want to ship her off to another pack entirely. She needs basic self-defense, weapons fundamentals, and basic attack skills."
"Redmoon is no better than here," the man's voice clipped out, irritation edging every word.
"She's not going anywhere," Jax cut in, sharp enough to slice the air clean. "And she's not going against an opponent who isn't a student ever again. Not without prior authorization."
"The horse is the one responsible for this nonsense," Aeron spat.
"Gods, Aeron," the man groaned, exasperated. "I almost accidentally referred to her as that. You have got to quit calling her that."
Nova's sluggish mind caught on that voice.
Low. Commanding. Familiar in the way thunder is familiar.
She'd heard him before.
He was there when Ashbane stabbed her…standing above her… giving orders… the one everyone looked to.
Was that—Alpha Shadowclaw?
"I found her snooping again… but this time she was on this floor. I think she recognized Nova's scent," Aeron said.
"When?" Jax snapped. "Why was this not brought to my attention?"
"Because it was last night, you over caffeinated guard dog," Aeron shot back without missing a beat.
Nova heard the voices fading, thinning out one by one until they blurred into nothing. Darkness washed in gently, soft around the edges, pulling her under before she could fight it.
She wasn't sure how much time passed.
But then, there it was.
Her favorite scent.
Warmth slid through her like sunlight breaking over cold stone. It curled into her chest, soft and familiar, and her stomach fluttered in that helpless way it always did around him.
A hand brushed her cheek.
Sparks shot across her skin, bright and unmistakable. She forced her heavy eyes open with a slow blink, the world blurring into shapes and shadows.
Then she saw him.
"Jax…" she whispered, voice rough, fragile, but real.
He leaned closer, relief flooding his features the moment her gaze found his, like he'd been holding his breath the entire time she was gone.
"Hey beautiful... how are you feeling?" Jax's voice was soft, but his face was tight with concern. Before she could answer, he leaned in and kissed her lips and pressed another to her forehead.
He was lying on his side next to her, hovering protectively over her, one hand braced beside her head, the other holding a cool, damp cloth. His jaw was tense and eyes scanned her like he was memorizing every bruise.
"How did I get here?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"You took a pretty hard hit, and I brought you here," he said, choosing his words carefully. He wasn't hiding the truth. He was just smoothing the sharp edges for her sake.
Nova shifted, instinctively trying to sit up, but pain tore through her side. She winced, her hand flying to her ribs.
"Hey… easy, baby." Jax's voice sounded strained. His hand was instantly at her back, steadying her. "You broke a rib."
She blinked slowly, trying to gather the scattered pieces of memory. She was still in her training suit — torn at the thigh and across her ribs. It was damp from blood. She was lying across the blankets of Jax's bed.
Her breathing steadied a little.
"How long was I out for?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"An hour. Not that long," Jax said softly. His hand came up, cupping her chin, thumb brushing along her cheek in slow, reverent strokes — like he was afraid she might disappear if he stopped touching her.
"Thank you for taking care of me," she murmured.
The words hit him harder than any punch had ever landed. His expression softened instantly, something tender flickered through his eyes. His heart didn't just melt — it dropped straight to the floor.
"You're welcome," he said quietly.
Everything else — the fear, the rage, the instinct to tear apart anyone who'd hurt her, the overwhelming relief that she was awake and breathing — rose in his throat so fast he couldn't speak past it. He just kept his hand on her cheek, holding her like that was the only thing keeping him steady.
There was a lot he wanted to say.
He slipped an arm beneath her knees and another behind her back, lifting her with slow, deliberate care so he wouldn't aggravate her ribs or the bruises scattered across her body. She felt weightless in his arms — or maybe that was just him, holding her like she was something precious.
He carried her into the bathing chamber attached to his bedroom.
Steam curled through the air. The scent of healing herbs rose from the large bath waiting for her. The warmth hit her first, then the realization.
Nova blushed.
"It will help with your soreness," Jax said softly, brushing a kiss against her mouth as he crossed the threshold.
He caught the color in her cheeks and laughed. "You are so adorable," he murmured. "Like we haven't been in here together every day."
He pressed his forehead to hers, a quiet, grounding touch, before gently lowering her onto her feet.
The moment her weight settled, reality crashed into her. Pain flared through her leg, her neck, her shoulder, and both ribs all at once.
Jax didn't let go. "I've got you," he murmured, keeping her upright, his thumb tracing slow circles over her hip as she caught her breath.
He pressed a soft kiss against her lips.
"Let me help you…" he whispered, voice warm against her mouth.
He reached for the zipper of her training suit. Only then did she notice how much blood and dirt stained the fabric — how torn it was.
Jax tried to ease the suit down from her right shoulder, but the moment the fabric tugged she winced.
He froze.
"Gods…" he murmured. He felt her pain like it was his own, and the sound of it in his voice made her glance up in concern.
He shook his head, jaw tight, then softened when he saw her expression.
"No… your back is more bruised than I thought." He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.
He exhaled hard, steadying himself. "I'll be right back."
He disappeared through the doorway, returning moments later with a pair of scissors in hand, determination etched across his face.
"Wait, Jax… I…" Nova said, realising what he was holding.
"It's not like you can wear this again," Jax said gently, a quiet laugh. "I've already ordered you a whole set of these. They're not supposed to rip like this."
He gestured to the torn fabric along her ribs and leg. "That means it was overworn."
He lifted the scissors, ready to cut.
Nova's hand flew to his wrist.
"Wait. Stop." Her voice tightened. "It's not mine. It's Elle's."
Jax paused, then shrugged like it was the simplest problem in the world. "Then I'll tell Cael to get her new ones too. Where are yours?"
Nova blushed again. The truth was, her best one had ripped the day she was stabbed. "We were meaning to get more," she muttered. "We just… didn't have time yet."
It wasn't a complete lie.
But it wasn't the truth either.
She and Elle barely got paid. They were the lowest-ranked omegas out of all the students there. Neither attended to Princess Meredith or were assigned extra duties — which they were grateful for, but it also meant they got paid virtually nothing. No one in Nova's class had extra duties on top of school. Nova wondered how any omega would be expected to do both.
Between dawn training and dusk returns, when exactly were they supposed to earn anything more? Or go shop for things that cost more than they made?
Jax looked at her, sensing her unease but unable to figure out what it was. He could always read her and understand her emotions through their bond. But right now, there was something he was missing.
"What's wrong baby?" He whispered, kissing her on the forehead. "Tell me."
"Nothing… I just remembered I need to get Milo a new one too…" she muttered, more to herself than to him.
"Why do you need to get Milo a new one?" He asked.
"He had to rip his sleeve to help me." Nova said, eyes dropping.
Jax didn't press her. "Elle can't wear this one again regardless of whether we cut it or not," he murmured, brushing a kiss to her forehead.
Before she could argue, he slid the scissors into the torn fabric and made quick, careful work of it — straight down the front of the ruined suit, then along her right sleeve, then up through the collar. The sound was soft but final.
Nova knew that if he hadn't done it that way, peeling the blood-stiffened fabric off her ribs and shoulder would've been agony. Still, guilt twisted in her stomach. She and Elle could've patched this one. They would've made it last another month.
He cut through her sports bra, the blade slipping through fabric with a whisper. Once it was peeled away, discarded like the rest, her blush returned in full force beneath his gaze.
Jax, for a moment, forgot everything else. The bruises, the tension, the blood—they blurred at the edges of his vision. All he saw was her. Stunning, even marred by pain and battle, luminous in a way that made his chest ache. His breath caught. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers with a gentleness that bordered on reverence.
"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he murmured against her mouth. "Inside and out... gods, how did I get so damn lucky?" The last part was barely spoken, more a thought given voice, as if he still didn't quite believe she was real.
He lifted her again, careful as always, lowering her slowly into the steaming bath. The water lapped over her skin and she sucked in a sharp breath at the heat — wincing at first, then melting into it as the herbs began their work.
Jax didn't hesitate. He set his things aside and stepped into the bath behind her, settling in with quiet purpose before gathering her carefully against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, slow and steady.
She winced when he pulled her back against him.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked immediately, loosening his hold.
"No." She said with finality. She placed her hands on top of his, not letting him loosen any more.
He lowered his chin to the top of her head, drawing in a slow inhale. Her scent filled his lungs in a way that grounded him completely.
He felt sparks everywhere they touched. Sparks deeper than anything he'd ever felt.
But then it hit him—something fierce and sudden through the matebond. It surged from her like a wave, overwhelming and pure, stopping him cold.
Love. Raw, unfiltered adoration. Appreciation that reached deeper than anything she'd ever directed at him before. Awe. Directed not at what he'd done, but at who he was. It mirrored what had lived quietly in him for weeks, but this… this was the first time she'd felt it back, this strong.
He swallowed hard, his throat tightened and his eyes welled. He'd known she cared for him but not like this. Not with this level of intensity. Not with this level of depth.
She turned her head and kissed his shoulder, soft and unthinking.
He exhaled shakily. There was so much he wanted to say, words that had sat heavy on his chest for weeks. But they hadn't been in each other's lives long—barely a few months.
She didn't wear his mark in public yet. He hadn't brought it up again, waiting for her to. Not wanting to press.
They hadn't even been fully intimate yet. He assumed she was a virgin and he was moving slow, careful, never pushing.
He didn't want to scare her away and fought his instincts on a daily basis.
He carefully wrapped her in a towel and dried her slowly, brushing her hair back with feather–light strokes and dabbing the droplets from her skin. She watched him the whole time, eyes soft and full of something so tender it nearly undid him. Love. Trust. Devotion. Every time it flickered across her face, his chest tightened.
He pulled her closer, both of them still wrapped in warm towels, her body resting easily against his. Her eyes fluttered — heavy, tired, the exhaustion settling deeper than bone. She fell asleep in the circle of his arms without hesitation, as though being held by him was the safest place she'd ever known.
Jax watched her for a long time.
Her relaxed breaths. The tiny crease between her brows was finally smoothing out.
The way her hand rested over his arm like she belonged there.
He loved her — gods, he loved her so intensely it felt like wildfire catching behind his ribs, burning bright enough to consume him. The instinct to protect her, to keep her near, was so strong it bordered on ache.
He wanted her living here. In his quarters. Their quarters.
He had wanted that since the day she arrived at Shadowclaw — wanted it quietly, secretly — but now the desire clawed at him with a force he could barely contain.
His eyes finally grew heavy as he held her, the weight of her against his chest grounding him. He drifted off with her tucked safely in his arms.
He wasn't sure how long he slept — only that the next thing he felt was her stirring, shifting faintly against him. His mind snapped awake instantly.
The towels were still wrapped around them. Morning light spilled across the bed, warm and golden, softening the edges of everything. The sun had risen fully… meaning they'd slept like that, tangled in each other, for at least ten hours.
Nova blinked slowly, her lashes fluttering against his skin before her eyes finally opened. She inhaled — a small, sleepy sound — and her gaze lifted to Jax's.
"Hey beautiful girl," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of damp hair from her cheek. "How's your rib?"
She shifted — winced — then relaxed again, her head dropping back against his shoulder. "Sore," she admitted. "But… better."
"Good." His thumb stroked her cheek, slow and soft.
He exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders as though that small smile alone could steady him.
Nova blinked at the sunlight warming the blankets. "Did we… fall asleep like this?"
"Yes." His voice softened even more. "You were exhausted. And I wasn't letting you go."
She blushed. He made her feel so warm. Safe. The matebond hummed low and content, wrapping around them like a second blanket.
"How long?" she asked.
"About ten hours."
Her eyes widened just slightly. "Ten?"
"You needed it." He cupped her jaw, brushing his thumb along her skin again. He couldn't seem to stop touching her and she didn't want him to. "And honestly… so did I."
She studied him — the shadows of exhaustion lingering around his eyes, the tension still sitting in his jaw, the way his thumb kept moving like he needed to reassure himself she was real.
"Jax?" she murmured.
"Hm?" he answered.
"Thank you… for staying with me," Nova said.
His eyes softened in a way that made her breath catch. "Always," he whispered.
She rested her head against him, letting the warmth seep deeper.
Nova slipped back under sometime between Jax's heartbeat and the distant hush of falling snow.