The portal shimmered into existence—gold-tinged and pulsing with the quiet hum of Nova's magic. She stepped through it with Fin, Jax, and Cael behind her.
Her cloak—white with gold trim—draped elegantly from her shoulders, catching the wind like a banner. Fin gave it for her among many other things now hanging neatly in their closet in Shadowclaw. She hadn't noticed at first until he told her she should wear it. She'd blushed when she thanked him, quiet and sincere, her hand brushing his.
Her hair was half-up today, with the front twisted into a style and silver blonde waves falling around her down to her waist. Fin had seen her in training suits and just his shirt, but this version of her stole his breath clean.
And from the way the entire camp turned to look—he wasn't the only one.
Every man in the vicinity stilled. A murmur of motion paused in her wake—conversations, footsteps, even training drills seemed to falter. Heads turned. Eyes followed.
The men in that camp behaved like they'd never seen a woman before. Even with him standing there. It didn't matter that her mate was beside her. They looked at her like a prize. Like something they would risk everything to touch.
Fin's jaw tightened instantly.
Now he understood what Cael and Jax had been talking about. This wasn't casual glancing. This was heat. Hunger. Even after she saved the entire damn camp.
He moved closer to her, possessively. Everyone watching needed a reminder of exactly who she belonged to.
As the morning went on, it only got worse.
Nova seemed to not notice, and kept her gaze calm. Through the mate‑bond Fin felt the ripple of unease every now and again.
From across the training grounds, Alpha Lunaris leaned against a post. His voice carried, loud and unapologetic: "Well now, look who is walking with his mate. Tell me Queen, Your mate's mark looks fresh. Does he bite harder when he doubts you?" He smirked, letting his gaze linger.
Before Nova could respond, Fin did. "You've got a lot of nerve, talking about my mate's mark when your pack still bears mine."
Lunaris pushed off the post, slow, lazy. "A bold claim, considering you've let her stroll into a den of wolves. What kind of Alpha lets his queen fend for herself?"
Fin's smile didn't reach his eyes. "The kind whose wolves know better than to touch what's mine. Ask your own, Lunaris—if they still limp from learning that lesson."
A few of the nearby captains exchanged glances; someone stifled a laugh, quickly silenced by Fin's glance.
Lunaris's grin flickered but returned. "Still quick with the tongue, Fin. I almost missed it."
Fin took a step forward, the space between them tightening. "You didn't miss it—you avoided it. Like every fight you've lost since the day my pack broke yours at Blackridge."
The words landed heavy. The mention of Blackridge—his defeat—cut clean through the posturing. The warriors went silent.
Lunaris's jaw ticked once. "Careful," he said, voice low. "History has a way of turning."
Fin's tone stayed measured. "History doesn't turn, Lunaris. It kneels."
Lunaris lost his composure for a second, his knuckles white.
The two stood locked for a heartbeat longer before Lunaris laughed, the sound brittle but forced into something smooth. He let his gaze drift back to Nova, studying her in full daylight.
Lunaris pushed off the post and strolled closer, slow, deliberate. "Tell me, my queen, did he come back disappointed? The rumors said he did."
Fin's head turned slightly, voice sharp, carrying across the grounds without needing volume. "The only thing that disappoints me is hearing your voice this early in the day."
Lunaris only smiled, taking another step forward. "You know where to find me. I would never doubt or waver from you. You are by far worth my kingdom and more."
Fin's eyes narrowed. "You should focus on holding your own pack together before courting mine."
The corner of Lunaris's mouth curved. "You led well," he continued, ignoring him, his gaze fixed on Nova. "Yet somehow, the great Alpha Shadowclaw was ready to trade you for another woman. Tell me—did he look at you and wonder if he chose wrong?"
The training yard went still; even the wind seemed to hold.
Fin's fist moved before anyone breathed. The crack of knuckles meeting jaw echoed off stone. Lunaris staggered backward, blood bright against his teeth as the gathered warriors flinched.
Fin stood over him, voice low but carrying through the field. "Say her name again, and you'll pick your teeth out of the dirt."
Lunaris wiped his mouth, half laughing through the pain. "Struck a nerve?"
Fin stepped closer, eyes cold. "No. Drew a line. Now stay on your side of it."
He turned to the soldiers still frozen in place.
Movement returned to the yard in a rush of noise and breath, but no one met Fin's eyes. Lunaris spat blood into the dust and stayed down a moment longer than he had to.
He turned without another word and walked back to her, the field still buzzing with the echo of what had just happened. Fin reached for Nova's hand, intertwining their fingers together. He felt her relief pulse through the bond — quiet, trembling, real.
She looked up at him with eyes so full of love and gratitude that it nearly broke him open right there in front of everyone. He caressed her cheek and brushed his lips onto hers, slowly. When he drew back, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. They didn't need words; the air between them spoke enough.
No one moved. The camp, the soldiers, even the wind — everything seemed to pause in reverence. It was the kind of love they'd only read about in old tales, the kind that lodged a lump in the throat. The kind that every wolf longed for but only few had experienced.
Fin knew she'd endured that man's remarks for days, knowing no one could intervene without igniting a pack conflict. She had stood alone, and he hated that. Jax and Cael were powerless.
They started walking, and Cael murmured from behind them, "Thank the gods you shut him up."
Jax added, quieter still, "Hopefully that sends a message to the rest of them."
Every look, every whisper, every lingering glance built into a steady rise of attention. Commanders paused mid-step. Lieutenants pretended to focus on maps but stared anyway. Even Alphas slowed as Fin guided her forward, his hand resting lightly at her back.
It didn't matter. The attention followed her like a shadow.
A few paces down, Alcide Nightbane, Gamma of the Wolfric Pack, broke from a conversation with his officers. His gaze swept over Nova, sharp and unashamed.
"Stunning," he said under his breath—quiet, but not quiet enough. "A sight like that could make even loyalty stumble."
Fin felt his jaw tighten.
They continued on.
Near the training grounds, two Betas stepped aside to let them pass. Donte Clawris of Darkfang let out a low whistle.
"Heads are turning faster than wolves at a howl."
Fin's hand at Nova's back flexed.
A little farther, near the armory entrance, Lycan Thornhelm—Gamma of Lunaris—leaned against a stack of crates, eyes following Nova with poorly disguised awe.
"Who would want lesser when she walks among us?"
Fin exhaled slowly, deliberately.
They rounded another corner.
Damien Stonevein of Moonfang passed them, arms full of scrolls. He didn't stop walking, only murmured,
"If eyes could claim, she'd have ten mates by now."
Fin's aura flickered.
And finally, near the command tents, Boris Helmfire of Darkhowler bowed his head in greeting, staring a moment too long. His voice carried reverence.
"Even the gods would stop to stare."
The comments came from different corners of the camp, drifting like sparks on the wind—honest, unfiltered, and far too bold.
And each one struck Fin harder than the last.
Fin's hand stayed at Nova's back as they walked away, every step heavy with meaning. When they stopped, he squeezed her hand beneath her cloak. Quiet. Protected.
Fin was speaking with Commander Romulus Fowler of the Darkhowler Pack, a hard-faced man with a voice like gravel and eyes that never quite softened, not even for an Alpha. The conversation was tactical — troop rotations, perimeter shifts — but Fin's attention kept flicking past Romulus to where Nova stood across the grounds.
The soldiers were pretending to train, though most of them were simply watching her. She moved with that quiet, unthinking that drew eyes as surely as flame drew moths. Whether she noticed or not, she gave no sign. Her expression gave nothing away. Fin knew her well enough to suspect she did.
Even Romulus, seasoned as he was, wasn't immune. His gaze strayed toward her between sentences, and Fin caught the slip. He didn't call him out for it. Yet.
Nova," Rex Redmoon called, crossing the space with a respectful bow. "Onyx has returned from his flight. He's restless. I thought you'd want to see him."
At that, Nova's expression shifted relief, breaking through composure. "Of course," she said, the faintest smile touching her lips. "Thank you, Rex."
Fin watched the exchange—the casual familiarity in the way Rex spoke her name, the way she used his without hesitation. The quiet spark of understanding that always seemed to pass between them.
It wasn't anything inappropriate.
But it was something.
And every time he saw the two of them together, unease curled low in his chest, tightening like a knot he couldn't undo.
"Commander Fowler. My king." Nova offered a polite nod to Romulus and Fin, her tone perfectly neutral. "If you'll excuse me."
She turned without waiting for a dismissal. She walked beside Rex toward the ridge where Onyx had landed. The sun caught in her long silver-blonde hair, turning it gold as she moved.
Romulus snorted under his breath—half admiration, half regret—and then snapped at the gawking soldiers nearby.
"Eyes forward! She's an Alpha's mate, not a spectacle. If you've got time to stare, you've got time to run laps!"
The men jumped into motion, though Romulus's own eyes lingered a heartbeat longer than they should have before he turned back to Fin.
Cael, standing off to the side, muttered under his breath, "Can't blame her for wanting out. Half the yard's got their tongues hanging."
Beside him, Jax finally exhaled, releasing the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding—probably the same one he'd been using to keep himself from decking every man who dared look at her since she arrived here.
Fin didn't respond. His gaze stayed fixed on Nova until she vanished behind the ridge. His jaw tightened once—a small, silent tell. It wasn't anger, not really. More like a low, restless tension he couldn't quite name.
A territorial itch under his skin. A flicker of jealousy he had no right to feel. A brief, irrational urge to punch Rex square in the jaw—unearned, unfair, and still very real.
Rex had saved her. He had protected her. He'd done nothing wrong. But he was also laughing with her, easing her shoulders, taking her somewhere Fin couldn't follow—not when the weight of an entire pack sat on his throne and on his spine.
Rex got to be the one at her side doing something fun. Fin got to be the king who stayed behind.
Rex had been his friend once. But Fin couldn't shake the feeling that the dragon wasn't the only one who had claimed something he hadn't meant to share. He drew a slow breath, turning back to Romulus.
"Double the perimeter. I want no movement near the ridge until I say otherwise."
Romulus nodded sharply. Fin's tone left no room for argument.