Fin punched Hadrian in the face. Hard.
The crack echoed through the speakeasy. Hadrian hit the floor. Gasps rose from the crowd, but Fin didn't hesitate. He grabbed Nova, swung her over his shoulder, and stormed toward the door. Before she realized what was happening, he was already outside of the speakeasy.
"Put me down Fin!" she said sharply, twisting in his grip.
"No," he said flatly.
She pushed against him, but it was like fighting stone. He didn't slow, didn't speak, just carried her straight out of the speakeasy and across the cold night air of the grounds.
She struggled the whole way—furious, frustrated—but he didn't budge. Minutes passed like that until her movements grew smaller… then stopped altogether. Her breathing hitched. And suddenly, she was crying.
His chest tightened.
Without a word, he shifted her into his arms—cradling her gently, holding her close. She tried to pull away, but he only held her tighter.
Her face was red. Her eyes refused to meet his. Her arms were crossed.
Fin was still fuming at what he just saw. Still, he couldn't help but think she looked adorable.
He carried her the rest of the way in silence all the way to their room.
He walked to the couch in front of their fireplace and sat down keeping her in his arms, now on his lap.
She struggled to get up. He held her firmly on him. Not letting her move.
"Fin. Let me up." She said so cross with him at this point.
He didn't answer.
She struggled once, weakly. Then she stopped, crossed her arms again, and turned her face away from him.
He felt it through the bond the second her skin touched his. Her body recognized his. Responded on instinct. That familiar pull, even if her pride refused it.
But even now, with rage simmering in his chest like molten steel, he couldn't help it—she still looked goddamned adorable when she was angry.
Her cheeks were flushed, jaw tight, arms crossed like a storm in miniature. She refused to look at him, chin tilted defiantly to the side, but he saw it—the way her pulse fluttered at her throat when his grip tightened slightly.
She was furious. Rightfully so.
And beautiful. Always beautiful.
Even when she was glaring like she wanted to set him on fire.
Especially then.
He held her tighter, still too angry to speak, too stubborn to let her go.
His jaw clenched, trying to find words—but nothing came out yet. Just heat and frustration and the bond between them sparking like wildfire under his skin. He felt it when her heart stuttered. The way some part of her—deep and involuntary—leaned into him, even as the rest of her burned with fury.
It wasn't forgiveness. Not even close. But it was something. It was her.
There was so much he wanted to say but he didn't know how. He stared at her for a long moment, the silence stretching unbearably between them.
Then, quietly, he said, "I broke something I don't know how to fix."
No answer.
Fin's voice dropped to a whisper. "You told me you missed me. And I—what I gave you..." His jaw tightened. "I yelled. Like a goddamn idiot."
Still silence.
His throat worked as he forced himself to keep going. "I saw the tears in your eyes, and I didn't stop. I was angry, and I took it out on you."
She didn't flinch, but the silence around her felt colder now.
He dragged a hand through his hair. "I made it about me. I made you feel like a mistake."
"I was scared," he admitted, softer now. "And instead of saying that, I hurt you."
Still nothing.
"I saw you nearly die, and I—I lost it. But that doesn't excuse it. I was cruel. I made you feel like you weren't enough, when you've been holding everything together alone."
He pulled her a fraction closer, like it would anchor her to him. "You have every right to hate me. To leave. To never speak to me again."
His voice broke. "And I hate that. I hate that the last thing I did was make you cry."
A breath. Shaky. Heavy. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I'm asking for it anyway."
Her silence cracked something in him. "Please," he said, voice catching, "I need to know I didn't lose you."
A single tear slid down Nova's cheek. She stared ahead, unmoving, her eyes empty.
On instinct, Fin reached out. His thumb brushed her skin, gently wiping the tear from her cheek. He lingered there, caressing her with a tenderness he wasn't sure he deserved.
She didn't stop him.
But she didn't lean into him either.
She was still angry that he wouldn't let her down earlier. But what she was really upset about is that he hurt her. How he'd spoken to her. His tone. The words he'd thrown like blades. Words that no apology could pull from her skin.
She had missed him. Ached for him. And he'd answered that ache by wounding her
Fin sat in the silence with her, the weight of her stillness pressing into his ribs like stones. He watched her stare ahead, unmoving, and felt like the air itself was brittle.
He inhaled slowly.
"I said it was stupid. That what you did was stupid. And I know that's not what you needed to hear. Especially not from me." His voice cracked, just slightly. "You made a call that saved lives. That took guts. And I threw it back at you like you were reckless instead of brave."
He let the silence stretch again, his throat tightening. "I said it wasn't how a queen should act. But what I should've said... is that I've never seen anyone wear that title with more grace. You were more of a queen in that moment than I've ever been a king."
Still, no movement. No reaction.
He didn't stop.
"I said you trusted Rex too easily. But the truth is, I was jealous. And insecure. And I let that come out like poison." His jaw ticked, self-disgust flashing in his eyes. "You did what you had to. You had no backup, and the person who just saved your life is the correct person to choose in that situation. And I turned it into something else. Something ugly."
He shifted slightly, voice rougher now, but still low.
"I told you you weren't indestructible. Like you didn't already know that. Like you haven't carried your own weight ten times over. You were already hurting—and I just added more."
She still wouldn't look at him. But her hands had stopped tensing. He noticed—but didn't comment.
"I said you acted selfishly. But nothing you've done has ever been selfish. Not once. You put others first, even when you shouldn't. Even when it breaks you."
His hand moved to gently brush her knuckles again. She didn't push him away.
"And worst of all..." His voice dropped lower, strained. "I made you feel like a mistake. Like I regretted you. And I swear to the gods, Nova… that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the only thing I've never questioned."
Another silent tear fell down her face. He wiped it again with his thumb, fighting everything in himself to not kiss her.
She was still closed off. But listening. He could feel it, faintly—like their bond was a wire under snow. Still there. Still pulsing.
"I see it now," he whispered. "How badly I messed up. How I failed the one person I said I'd protect. And I'll carry that. But I will keep trying. I'll keep showing up. Because you matter more than my pride. More than my guilt. More than anything."
He drew a shaky breath and looked at her again.
"And what I said about wasting our time…" His voice cracked on the word wasting. "That was cruel. That was not true. I would do that for you again in a heartbeat. It was the least we could do. You saved the entire camp."
His hand trembled slightly as he dragged them down his face. He swallowed hard. He looked over, eyes red-rimmed but steady now.
"I'm sorry. For all of it. Especially that."
His voice came quieter now, lower, like he didn't trust it to hold steady. His gaze dropped to his hands. He swallowed hard.
"And Onyx… I accused you of recklessness but I was the one being reckless because I never paused to ask why and understand." His hands tightened into fists. "I should've known you wouldn't just jump on a dragon head 200 feet in the air… or call an arrow from the sky on a whim. There was probably more going on there."
He looked up at her—really looked—and whispered, "I'm sorry for that most of all."
A single tear slid down Fin's cheek as he swallowed hard.
By now, tears were streaming freely down Nova's face. She hiccupped softly, and Fin reached up, gently brushing them away with his thumbs, his hands cupping her face with the kind of care that made her chest ache. She missed his touch—desperately—but she wasn't ready to lean into it. Not yet.
She opened her mouth, then hesitated, blinking back more tears as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.
Finally, she spoke—quiet, unsteady. "It's okay, Fin. I understand."
A pause. She took a shaky breath.
"The truth is… you'd probably be better off with someone raised for this life. Someone who knows what they're doing."
Another breath, heavier this time.
She looked down, her voice catching.
"I don't feel like you made the right choice in choosing me," she whispered. Her gaze drifted to the far wall, unfocused and hollow. "I think you see it too."
Fin's chest caved inward at her words. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She didn't resist—but she didn't return the embrace either. She just sat there, still and quiet, while he held her like she might vanish.
"No," he said, voice firm, cutting through the fog between them. "You are the best choice. The right choice. The only choice—for me, and for this pack. Period."
He paused, swallowing hard, then added more quietly, "You're the only person I want. I regret not claiming you the first day I brought you here."
Nova shook her head, wiping at her tears again. She took a breath—long, deep, trying to steady herself—but Fin could feel it now.
The disbelief. She didn't fully believe him anymore. Not deep down.
Through their matebond, her emotions began to bleed into him. The quiet pain she'd kept locked away for days—grief, acceptance of it —surged through the connection like a wave, crashing into the part of him that had gone numb without even realizing it. That aching void he'd been carrying? It snapped back into focus. And it hurt.
Like his soul was reaching, pulling hers back to his—desperate to close the distance.
And gods, when she said she didn't feel like the right choice, something inside him twisted. Every hour she'd been walking around thinking he didn't want her—every moment she had carried that weight alone—it hit him like a punch to the chest.
It felt like they were back to square one. Like all the work he'd done to show her he wanted her—every word, every touch, every second of finally having her—had shattered in a matter of minutes. And he had no one to blame but himself.
No wonder she'd been avoiding him. She thought she wasn't wanted. That she had failed him.
Fin bent his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair, following instinct more than thought. He pulled her tighter against his chest.
"I hate that I made you feel that way. I promise you, I've never doubted you." He whispered into her hair. "You are without a doubt, the best choice. I am the luckiest king in all the continents to have you by my side."
"You've been queen for less than a week," Fin said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "And I should've said this the second you woke up… I am so damn proud of you."
He took a breath, cupping her cheek gently. "You rose and led like a queen—and then some. You stood in front of Alphas and represented me, our people, and yourself with grace, strength, and instinct. You didn't just fill the role—you elevated it. There's not a shadow of a doubt in me that you were meant for this."
"When I said you weren't acting like a queen… I was wrong." His jaw tightened, shame coloring his words. "I mean this… I wasn't acting like a good king when I said that. Not even close."
He looked down, his voice lower now. "And let's say, for argument's sake, that something you did wasn't 'queenly'—even though that's not true. But if it were... it was my job to guide you. To support you. You are less than one week into wearing a crown you never asked for, and you carried it alone."
He held her tighter, gently brushing her hair back. "But you didn't just survive—you thrived. And I will never forgive myself for not telling you that first. For letting my pride, my fear, and my ego lash out instead."
His voice cracked slightly. "Moving forward, you will not do this alone. I will be there every step. I swear to you—I will never raise my voice at you like that again. I don't know what came over me… but you didn't deserve it. You deserve to be spoken to with respect, always. And if something concerns me, I will ask. I will listen. I will not assume."
"I'm not a perfect king," he said, shaking his head. "I'm especially not a perfect man. But I promise you—whatever time I have left in this life—I will spend it making this right. Because you make me better. You make me whole. I need you by my side."
She finally leaned her head into him then. The soft brush of her eyelashes on his neck made his chest ache—because they were wet with tears.
Fin kissed her hair, tender and reverent. "I love you so much, baby," he whispered. "I always have. And I always will. Nothing will ever change that."
A moment later… he grinned and shook his head with a chuckle, "For not being raised for it… you play the part so well, you fooled a room full of cunning Alphas… not to mention an entire camp of betas, gammas, and officers."
"I played Alpha for three days…" Her voice broke. "And it's not easy." Nova swallowed, her tone shaky, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I missed you so badly… and I was so scared you'd be d-disappointed."
He cupped her face, his voice thick. "Hey… look at me." His thumb brushed her cheek, soft and steady. "You have never disappointed me. Not once. You couldn't. I am so proud of you—proud to have you as my queen, my mate, my wife. I love you, Nova. With everything I have. And you deserve that kind of love. You always have."
She paused, as if something else weighed heavy on her chest. Her lips parted, then closed again. But after a moment, she took a breath and let it out.
"The comments… the c-comments about me being an omega…" Her voice was thinner now, cracking at the edges. "Jax and Cael were so angry. They were offended on my behalf.'
She wiped a tear, then swallowed hard.
"If they knew the truth…" Her next words trembled out. "I'm actually w-worse. In Ashbane, I wasn't even omega. I—I was ranked the same as a slave when Riven took over."
She hesitated, then added barely above a whisper, "Omega in Shadowclaw was a step up."
Fin froze. His breath caught—like the words physically hit him.
"I went from slave… to queen," she whispered, voice breaking. "No one realizes that."
Fin stared at her, stunned. She'd never said it aloud before. It hadn't fully dawned on him until then what her rank was. They didn't have slaves in Shadowclaw, but they did in Ashbane. It would make sense, but it was also so wrong.
Fin felt rage—hot and immediate—at the thought of her ever being treated that way. Then came something deeper. The moment her emotions bled through the bond, it shattered him.
A quiet, aching defeat. Like she believed there would be consequences for speaking the truth. But also—relief. Like she had finally let go of a weight too heavy to carry alone.
His heart broke wide open.
Without thinking, Fin surged his emotions back through the bond—love, certainty, fierce understanding. He didn't just send comfort. He sent conviction. Unshakable truth.
She gasped softly and flinched. The wave had hit her too hard, too fast—like the warmth of a fire after days in the cold.
He watched her eyes widen, then blink rapidly, absorbing what he gave her. Every ounce of love he felt. The absolute certainty that she was his, that she was worthy, that she was powerful.
His voice was low when he spoke, but it trembled. "What they did to you in Ashbane… it makes me sick, Nova." His jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on hers. "I don't care what rank they gave you."
He reached for her hand again, grounding them both.
"That's a legacy and a story worth telling. People want to follow not because they're forced to, but because they believe in it. An underdog that people want to get behind. Not something you carry alone, and not something you should be ashamed of."
"And Nova… we all knew to an extent. Maybe not every detail, not the exact rank, but it was clear from the moment I found you—chained like that—that Ashbane didn't just treat you poorly. They tried to erase you. "
He paused, thumb brushing her knuckles.
"I may not have known it was slave rank, but I knew it was lower than an omega. I didn't care then, and I don't now. Neither did Jax. When he brought you back, I gave you omega quarters—he fought me on it. I think if I'd let him, he would've taken you into his own space."
His voice softened, eyes never leaving her.
"Everyone saw it, Nova. Even if the world couldn't name it yet—we knew. You weren't just an omega or a warrior. You were becoming. You were born for greatness."
He took a breath.
"And I knew you were meant to be mine. To rule beside me. But even if fate hadn't tied us together, I still would've fallen for you. Just from the way you are. I would have still chosen you as my queen. I would have still burned for you. There's no doubt in my mind. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen inside and out, and I would have fought until you agreed to be mine."
He wiped the tears from her cheeks, his touch unbearably gentle now. And gods—no wonder his words had shattered her. No wonder Jax had said he'd never raised his voice to her. Hearing Nova admit what she had just confessed only confirmed what Fin had always known—but had momentarily, unforgivably, forgotten.
She was his to protect. And she was still healing.
He'd forgotten the waves of panic that snuck into her and the calming tonics she still took twice a day. He had seen her strength and let it blind him to the wounds that strength was built on.
"You went from slave to queen in one lifetime. Meanwhile, I'm still trying to figure out how not to screw up in under ten minutes." He said.
She hiccupped with a tiny laugh, the sound fragile but real. Fin smiled gently, then kissed her forehead and pressed his own against hers, their breaths mingling in the space between.
"I love you so much baby" he whispered. "I've been going crazy these past two days. I wanted to apologize right after, but I couldn't find you."
His voice cracked slightly, softening into something almost like a plea. "Please don't leave again. I… I need you next to me. In the war room. In the council chambers. In my life. It's killing me not having my favorite person in the realm want to speak to me. I've missed the crap out of you.."
He didn't pull away. Just held his forehead to hers, eyes locked on hers—those fierce, beautiful green eyes he'd nearly forgotten how to breathe around. For a long moment, she didn't move. Then she swallowed and gave a single, small nod.
Fin didn't hesitate. He pulled her into a tight hug, arms locking around her like he was afraid she might vanish again. She hiccupped once more, but this time, she melted into him.
Through the bond, he felt her emotions shift—confusion still lingered, but relief pulsed beneath it. She wasn't sure yet, but she was trying. She wanted to forgive him. That was enough.
Then she whispered, barely audible, "I love you too, Fin."
Another hiccup.
He couldn't wait any longer.
Fin kissed her before she could pull away, before anything else could wedge between them. The moment their lips met, sparks exploded under their skin—sharp and bright. He had almost forgotten how sensitive lips were, compared to other parts of the body. He breathed in her scent.
Fin could finally feel her emotions, feel her presence and he vowed, right then and there, he would never let that happen again. Gods did he miss her. He needed her.