When Fin woke, the first thing he felt was the spark—alive, bright, unmistakable—everywhere his skin touched hers. Stronger than yesterday. Stronger than it had been in days. It rolled across his chest, along his arms, through his fingers where they rested against her waist. Like life itself was stitching its way back into her.
She was warm. Not chilled. Not fading. Warm.
He didn't open his eyes at first. He just lay there, breathing her in. That familiar, grounding scent that made his wolf settle. He pressed his forehead to the curve of her neck and let himself exist in the moment—just her breath, her warmth, her pulse steady against his.
Eventually he blinked awake. The world outside the window was washed in pale amber—dawn or dusk, he couldn't tell. The light had that soft, uncertain glow that came when the world hadn't decided whether to wake or sleep.
He glanced around.
Aeron and Cael's beds were empty.
Stripped. Gone.
From the hallway, he heard Jax's voice—low, muffled, irritated about something. That tone meant trouble, or at least annoyance. Probably both.
Fin brushed a strand of hair from Nova's cheek, his hand lingering along her jaw. He pressed his palm gently to her forehead—still burning, but nothing like before. Through the bond, he could feel it: she was better. Not well, not whole, but no longer slipping.
"Oh good, you're awake. How are you feeling, Alpha?" Elias said, stepping out of his office with a clipboard tucked under one arm.
"Better… I think. How long was I out?"
"A full day," Elias replied.
Fin jerked upright, careful not to disturb her IV line. A full day? He had hoped it was dawn. Not dusk. He hadn't meant to fall asleep at all, let alone vanish from consciousness.
"You needed the rest," Elias said, waving off the concern. "Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't collapse earlier. And judging by her readings, you helped her heal. Look."
Elias nodded toward Nova's neck.
Fin looked—and froze.
The bruises coating her throat and collarbone were almost gone. Just faint shadows remained, like old fingerprints fading from glass.
"Has she not woken yet?" Fin asked.
"No," Elias said. "But she's stable."
Fin exhaled, relief loosening something tight in his chest.
"Hey, buddy… you sleep good?" Jax drawled as he stepped into the infirmary.
"Like a log," Fin muttered.
"Yeah, we noticed," Jax said, smirking. "Snoring like you were trying to summon a storm god."
Fin glared. Jax was completely unbothered.
"I handled the patrol rotations," Jax said, shrugging, "and the council envoy finally left after Cael threatened to wake you. But there's still one thing waiting on your desk."
Fin sighed. "Which is?"
"A stack of letters from the elders asking if we've accidentally adopted two dragons."
Jax smirked.
Fin scrubbed a hand over his face. "Thanks, Gamma. I'll deal with that. Stay with her?"
Jax's expression softened. He nodded once.
Elias stepped forward with his clipboard. "Alpha—I'd like to move her back to her private suite. I still need her close for observation, but…" He hesitated.
Fin understood perfectly.
Elias did not want more patients in the room while Fin monopolized a twin-sized bed with his unconscious Luna.
"We'll transfer her for you —"
"No," Fin cut in immediately, glaring at the assistant who'd taken half a step toward Nova. "I'll take her."
He glared at the assistant approaching as if he were trying to steal Nova away.
The assistant paled, wisely backing up. He unhooked Nova's IV lines.
"We'll be replacing these with new ones in her room," he murmured.
Fin slid his arms beneath Nova, lifting her effortlessly, blanket and all. He carried her through the torch-lit hallway as dusk settled fully outside, shadows long and quiet.
Jax pushed open the door of the private room and peeled back the blankets. Fin laid her down gently, tucking her in as though she were made of something precious—and breakable. Because to him, she was.
Elias moved with brisk efficiency, hooking up the new IV lines. "She'll need one more transfusion," he said to his assistant. "Gamma Thorne donated this morning; he's cleared to donate again."
Then Elias turned to Fin and Jax. "Are either of you able—"
"Take mine," they both said in unison, cutting him off before the sentence finished.
Elias blinked as if the volume physically struck him. His assistant froze mid-step like he'd accidentally wandered into a battle arena.
"…Right," Elias muttered, rubbing his temple. "Alpha this time."
The assistant hurried over, drawing Fin's blood with the trembling reverence of a man who knew better than to fumble in front of an alpha whose mate was unconscious.
Jax crossed his arms, jaw tight, pacing once and then twice.
He didn't protest.
Didn't offer commentary.
But Fin caught the look in his eye. If Nova needed more, Jax would bleed himself dry for her too.
"How are Cael and Aeron doing?" Fin asked as Elias's assistant finished drawing his blood.
"Better," Elias replied, checking the IV line. "Both are under strict orders to stay in bed. Those tonics Nova… whoever she was—recommended have accelerated recovery for both."
He cleared his throat, very pointedly not saying the Moon Goddess out loud.
Then Elias muttered under his breath, "And you try having three mated pairs in your place of work. I've never seen so much PDA. I'm running a medical ward, not a courting hall…"
Fin pretended not to hear him. Jax definitely heard him and tried not to laugh.
Once Elias and his assistant stepped out, the room fell quiet. Fin rose, glancing back at Nova, then to Jax.
"I think she'll heal better if you lay with her," Fin said quietly.
Jax hesitated, arms folding, gaze flicking to Nova's pale face. "I don't know how she'll take that if she wakes up," he admitted.
"She'll get over it. She's going to have to," Fin said, unbothered. And gods, it was strange. Peace wasn't something he'd expected to feel about this. But it settled in his chest all the same. It felt right.
Alpha instincts were supposed to be territorial, possessive to the bone. Yet with Jax, it wasn't a threat—it was instinctive, natural, as if the foundations of their bond had always been built for this. As if they were meant to orbit the same center.
Fin leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Nova's forehead.
"Stay with her," he murmured, more command than request.
Jax nodded once. Only then did Fin step away to take care of himself. He needed a bath, needed food, and needed to catch up on the pile of work that was growing on his desk. He didn't want to leave. But he had to. For the first time since the black rain fell, he could actually walk out of the room without his heart clawing out of his chest because she was getting better, and Jax was there too.
Jax was exhausted—bone-deep, soul-drained, every nerve frayed. And gods, all he wanted was to lie beside her. To feel her breathing. To hear even one small sound from her that proved she was still fighting.
But he hesitated.
Instead, he dropped into the chair at her bedside, elbows on his knees, head bowed. For a long moment he just studied her—her too-hot skin, the faint bruises still lingering like ghosts along her throat, the pained crease between her brows even in sleep.
"I love you, Nova," he whispered, voice cracking despite his best effort. "So goddamn much. And this… this is killing me."
He reached out and brushed his knuckles along her cheek. She was fever-warm, far warmer than she should be. The closeness calmed him and shredded him in equal measure.
Unable to sit still, he stood and slipped into the adjoining bathing chamber. He soaked a fresh cloth in cool water, wrung it out with shaking hands, and brought it back to her bedside.
He pressed it gently to her forehead, thumb brushing her temple.
He splashed water over his own face in the bathing chamber—cold, bracing, utterly useless—then returned to her bedside.
Her scent was driving him mad.
Gods.
It clung to the room, the sheets, the air itself. He'd always been drawn to her—always—but now it was like every breath he took was laced with her. Thick. Consuming. Impossible to ignore.
Since the bond with Marra had vanished, since that morning two days ago when the fated pull to Nova slammed into him at full force, it had only gotten worse. He couldn't escape it. Her scent wrapped around him everywhere he went like a hand at his throat, soft and devastating.
Everytime he touched her, it took everything in him to stop.
The pull to Nova, even without a fated bond had been stronger than what he had with fated mates. But this? This was something else entirely.
A gravity that made him feel half-feral and half-whole in the same breath. He sank back into the chair, staring at her with a kind of desperate reverence. Ridiculous didn't even begin to cover it. It was unbearable. And he couldn't get enough.
His body moved before his mind even caught up.
One moment he was sitting in that damned chair, fingers twitching with the urge to touch her—
the next he was sliding under the covers beside her, still fully clothed, breath uneven. He pulled her carefully, instinctively, into his arms. The effect was immediate.
Everywhere their skin touched, sparks hummed. Soft at first, then sharper, vibrating through him like an enchanted current. A sound he felt in his bones more than he heard. Her warmth bled into him, fevered heat mixing with the scent that always sent his pulse into a sprint.
He breathed her in and gods, it was like coming home and losing his mind at the same time.
Then he froze, realizing what he'd just done. But he didn't move.
The urge to mark her hit him like a blow. His wolf shoved hard toward the surface, claws scraping for control, demanding he claim what was his.
His cock pulsed, aching for her.
Jax closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe. Steady. Controlled. It took longer than he'd ever admit for the pressure to pull back, for the wildness to settle.
He'd wanted to hold her like this since the day they were separated.
Every damn day.
Two weeks. Two excruciating, empty, agonizing weeks where he'd felt her absence like a bruise under his ribs—aching, constant, impossible to ignore. He'd walked around pretending he was fine, pretending duty and discipline could fill the hollow she left behind.
But nothing had.
And now she was here, in his arms, fitting against him like she'd been carved to match the lines of his body. Like she belonged there. Like she'd always belonged there.
His throat tightened.
His eyes burned.
He pulled her closer—carefully, reverently, almost desperately—because he finally had her in his arms and for the first time in days, the world stopped hurting.
She fit perfectly.
Too perfectly.
And gods, it undid him.
Everything about this moment hurt and healed him at the same time. Happy—because he finally had her in his arms. Sad—because she still wasn't better, still trapped in a fevered sleep instead of looking back at him with those eyes that had wrecked him from the start.
"Gods… my emotions are all over the place," he whispered, voice low and shaking. "What am I going to do with you, Moonveil?"
He pressed a kiss to her hair. He didn't hold back.
He kissed her temple, her forehead, her shoulder—soft, desperate touches he'd starved himself of for two miserable weeks. Gods, he'd missed kissing her freely. Missed feeling her sleep in his arms. He missed the way she naturally melted into him like she belonged nowhere else.
The tears came then—quiet but unstoppable. Two weeks of fighting instinct, of forcing himself to stay away from her, pretend he didn't ache for her, pretend he didn't want to gather her into his arms and shield her from the world. Two weeks of swallowing the urge to kiss her, comfort her, love her. Two weeks of denying everything he felt.
It was a relief—an actual physical relief—to finally give in. To hold her. To breathe her in. To feel her fit against him like the missing half of a shape carved into his soul.
Marra had never fit like this. Not once. Not even close. But Nova did, every line of her. Perfectly.
"I love everything about you, Nova," he murmured against her hair. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and the kindest, most humble soul. And I will always love you."
His voice cracked on the last word.
The weight of exhaustion finally settled into his bones. His eyes grew heavy, her warmth pulling him under like a tide he no longer had the strength—or the desire—to fight.
For the first time in two agonizing weeks, Jax slept. And it was deep, unbroken, and peaceful.