The ballroom glittered with candlelight and crystal. Frost still clung to the windows from the late winter storm, but the room itself pulsed with warmth — velvet, gold, murmuring laughter, and the subtle hum of power beneath every movement.
The Bloodmoon Pack's arrival made everyone tread carefully. Allies… but barely.
Nova stood at Jax's side, her hand resting gently in the crook of his arm. The sapphire gown he'd given her shimmered like moonlit silk, hugging her waist and trailing behind her like water. She looked like royalty.
Jax hadn't taken his eyes off her all evening. Not until—
"Meredith has arrived," someone whispered.
The room turned subtly. The Princess of Ashbane entered wearing a dark crimson gown, her black hair fell to her shoulders. The conversation dipped, curiosity piqued — not just by her presence, but by the man across the room who straightened the moment she entered.
Grant Bloodmoon.
Nova watched it happen. Their eyes met and the entire ballroom shifted.
His lips parted. Hers did too.
Everything else fell away. Like gravity tilted.
It was as if the mate bond exploded between them in real time — two puzzle pieces snapping into place after years apart. The joy, the awe, the disbelief.
They hadn't seen each other since they were children. And now?
They were of age.
Fated mates.
A few guests gasped. Fin raised an eyebrow. Even Cael, ever the skeptic, let out a soft, "Well, damn."
Grant crossed the room without hesitation. Meredith held her ground, but her eyes shone like she'd just found something she thought she'd lost forever.
"Meredith," Grant said, almost reverently.
"Grant," she whispered.
He reached for her hand. She gave it, not even glancing at Fin. The bond crackled to life in full. The room burst into subtle murmurs.
Nova couldn't help but smile. She was watching destiny unfold. For once, the night felt warm — like spring really had come.
Until the doors opened again.
And everything went still.
"Introducing… Princess Marra of the Bloodmoon Pack."
Nova turned her head.
So did everyone else.
A woman entered the room with black hair and soft brown eyes. Nova remembered her friend and was excited to see her.
Her crimson gown was edged in obsidian beading, matching the circlet that sat atop her dark curls. Her presence was regal, poised. But something about her pulled at Nova's senses immediately. A pressure. A warning.
She looked at Nova. Their eyes met for a moment too long.
Jax's grip on her arm went rigid.
Then she looked up at Jax.
His jaw was clenched. His knuckles white around the glass in his other hand.
"Jax?" Nova whispered.
He didn't answer.
His breath was shallow. Eyes locked on Marra like something ancient and dangerous had just walked into the room.
Nova felt it in their bond — a pull. Like something foreign was brushing against it. Trying to crack it.
Her chest tightened.
Princess Marra stepped fully into view. Her golden eyes scanned the room until they landed on Jax. A long beat passed. Her lips parted. Her pupils dilated.
She felt it too.
Nova stepped back slightly.
Then Jax did something he had never done before — not with her.
He stumbled.
Physically stumbled back a step, as if hit with an invisible force.
Nova felt her wolf recoil.
"No," Jax whispered under his breath.
Then Nova heard it too — a voice, soft and sharp like wind through trees.
Second chance.
It wasn't coming from Jax.
It was coming from the bond.
Nova felt a crack of pain in her chest. Her mate bond screamed — not breaking, but shifting.
Princess Marra was Jax's second-chance mate.
The one the fates gave you if your first mate dies. Rare. Pure.
Only Nova hadn't died.
She was still standing right next to him.
And fate was trying to offer him someone else anyway.