Nova had pulled Aeron into a narrow passage and opened a portal straight into the SOS room she shared with Elle. Aeron followed without a word, shutting the portal behind them.
"This room is cloaked, correct?" she asked, voice steady despite the chaos in her eyes.
"You would be correct," Aeron said, a faint grin tugging at his mouth.
She nodded once. "I have a cure for Marra. But I don't think I'll be alive long enough to do it. Unless we do it tonight. And I'm fine with that."
Aeron froze. His expression twisted with a sharp, quiet pain.
"There is a cure t—" he began, but the words died in his throat when he saw the tears streaming down Nova's face.
Nova continued, not realizing his reaction was to her tears.
"It's called the Nightstalker's Bind," she said. "An old Morbian curse — older than the volcanoes, older than the fall of their kingdom. A dark mage carved it into her spirit. At night it will claim her, strip her will, and drive her to hunt the one she is tied to."
Aeron went utterly still.
Nova continued, forcing her voice to stay even despite the tears sliding down her face.
"There is a cure. I've already translated the scroll of Old Morbia. Marra and I must slash our palms and put our blood into divine water. She has to drink mine… a vial should do. Then we submerge in the enchanted waters. Three elements must be placed in the water before the ritual begins: the Moonshade Lily, an Ember-root shard, and powdered Aetherglass."
Her eyes lifted to Aeron, raw and honest.
"When the curse breaks, the dark magic will try to manifest and kill her. Fin and Jax must be ready with their blades. I'll channel their magic to shield everyone. Once the creature takes form, their swords will destroy it. It will disintegrate on contact."
She drew another breath.
"It can be done in fifteen minutes. And it will save her."
He gave her a large hug, for a few reasons. She was crying, but also she had solved something that was haunting him.
"Nova… what else is wrong?" Aeron asked quietly. "You wouldn't have pulled me aside just to tell me that."
He already knew. His voice carried the weight of someone bracing for the worst.
Nova hesitated. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to steady her breathing.
"Aeron…" she whispered, her voice trembling despite her efforts. "I keep getting flashes of Ashbane in my mind. I saw him standing in the cavern — the exact room we were just in. I think I'm going mad."
Aeron's entire posture stiffened, the blood draining from his face.
"How long has this been happening?"
"Yesterday." Nova said. Her voice was thin. "At first I didn't understand what it was. But he recognized me last night during it."
She pressed a shaking hand to her throat, trying to force air into her lungs without panicking.
"I want to heal Marra first," she said softly. "And tomorrow I have to secure the artifact. But after that…" She swallowed hard. "Aeron, do you think if I turn myself in, we could negotiate something? Some kind of deal that spares the packs?"
She looked down, rubbing her neck, struggling to breathe evenly.
"Everyone got along before I came into the picture," she whispered. "I don't see why they can't now."
He stared at her for a long thirty seconds — silent, unmoving, studying her with an ache beneath his ribs. She was so damn pure, too innocent for the world clawing at her heels. Every instinct in him urged him to shield her from even the thought she'd spoken.
But the truth — the real, complicated truth — was not something she could bear right now.
And even in Aeron's mind, her question lingered: What is his goal?
Dark magic usually attacked with purpose. It hunted. It sought. It wanted.
Still, Aeron chose the half-truth — clean, simple, merciful.
He would not speak of the shades between light and corruption. He would not give her the faintest hope of negotiating with a monster.
"Likely not. He is ruled by dark magic. Corrupted — whether you existed in his path or not." His jaw tightened. "And the blade he stabbed you with months ago was forged through soul sacrifice."
He let the weight of that settle, refusing to soften it.
Better she believe this was black and white — evil and nothing else — than let her imagine there was a version of this where her surrender saved anyone.
"How do I untether myself?" Nova said, wiping tears.
"You will not be able to undo it by yourself," Aeron said gently, though the words carried iron beneath them. "But you have a team of the most trusted mage-librarians in Redmoon working on it now."
Nova sucked in air — half a breath, half a broken sob she didn't manage to hide. Aeron froze. He had never seen her emotional. Not once. Not when she bled. Not when she nearly died.
But this — this hollow fear in her eyes — reminded him painfully that beneath the titles, power, and impossible prophecies… she was still just a girl standing in the teeth of a monster.
"I mean…" Nova forced out a thin, brittle laugh. "I guess I'm going to die either way."
"You do hear that quite often, don't you?" Aeron replied, attempting humor because the alternative was screaming.
Nova let out another short laugh — exhausted, hopeless, edged with disbelief. "The one today made the top three, honestly. Fantastic news. The only way to save myself is by shifting, but — surprise — if you do that, you'll die."
Aeron snorted outright. "That was absurd. And then, as if that wasn't enough, they added 'and by the way, you possess no fighting skills.'"
Nova shook her head, covering her face for a moment. "Truly inspiring."
"You're doing beautifully," Aeron said dryly. "Really."
Her laugh cracked — but it was still a laugh.
"I wanted to speak with you privately for another reason," Nova said, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. Her voice steadied — not because she was calm, but because she had forced resolve into every syllable. "I wanted to know if there is a way for me to die… without it hurting Fin."
Aeron went still.
He thought for sure Jax was going to mark her again. The fact that neither had told her yet was surprising. Maybe they wouldn't be able to share her like he had thought they would, based on them trading off sleeping with her while she was unconscious.
He wondered, briefly, what good would come from telling her there was a cure.
And what devastation might follow if he didn't.
Nova swallowed hard, her voice lowering.
"I mean… Jax survived when Cira died," she said, almost whispering. "And Marra with Michael. Right? Fin lived a long time before me. So if I died, it would just return to how things were before. No broken pieces. No damage. No—"
Her breath stuttered. The lie she was telling herself hung between them like smoke. Aeron's chest tightened. She was trying to make her own death sound tidy. As if grief obeyed rules. As if all of them could simply return to the lives they had before she ever walked into them.
And gods help him — she believed it.
At that moment, the door opened and Elle stepped inside with Marra close behind her. Marra's eyes were red, her expression tight with fear she was trying and failing to hide.
"Marra— what's wrong?" Nova breathed, rushing to her at once. She pulled the girl into a careful embrace, mindful not to smear blood onto her.
Marra clung to her, trembling.
"I have a cure for you," Nova said softly, steadying her shoulders. "Truly. Don't worry." She turned to Aeron. "Do you think I'm safe to go to Fin's and my quarters to retrieve a book? It explains the cure. I… don't know how cloaking works."
Aeron's arm went around Marra instinctively, protective and gentle at the same time. He pressed a kiss to her forehead — the kind of kiss that said he'd been half-mad without her all day.
"Which book?" he asked.
"The Codex of Morbian Shadowcraft," Nova answered. "Green cover. The scroll is on top of it."
It took her a moment to notice the silence in the room.
Elle and Marra were staring at the enormous bruise spreading purple and blue across half her ribcage, and at the puncture wound beside it, ugly and raw, refusing to heal.
Nova blinked, then realized she was in her sports bra, training suit unzipped except for the bottom half pants.
The injury was simply… there. Exposed. Obvious.
Marra's breath hitched, a choked sound of terror.
"Hang tight. I'm going to grab it," Aeron said, kissing Marra on the lips before slipping out the door.
The moment he left, Nova clapped her hands together with an instinctive, delighted smile — they really were adorable. But the smile collapsed almost instantly, fading into something small and shattered. A sad smile. The kind you give when you realize you will not be there to witness the life someone deserves.
Marra saw it.
Of course she did.
"You know, don't you?" Marra whispered, eyes red, tears streaming down her face.
Nova drew a breath. "I was told today I'm going to die in about four different ways." She forced her voice steady. "Yes."
Her composure faltered. "I asked Aeron if there was a way… that when I do… it won't h-hurt Fin." Her voice cracked sharply, tears spilling over.
"Nova…" Elle breathed, her own tears starting now, grief rising like a tide between them.
"I'm sorry," Nova said quickly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "That was insensitive to you, Marra." Because Marra's wince hadn't been fear — it had been remembrance. The memory of Michael's death and the agony it carved through her soul.
Elle closed the door firmly behind them.
Instinct ignited in her. Green light flared across Elle's palms, magic blooming hot and sharp. She stepped toward Nova without hesitation, pressing her hands to the torn flesh at Nova's ribs. Nova let out a stunned breath, feeling the magic burn and soothing her wounds. They were still there, but the pain had lessoned.
Nova blinked down at it in disbelief.
"Where is Jax?" Marra asked, wiping her eyes, her voice steadier now — resolve replacing fear. "We need him too."
"He's in Redmoon getting treated with Fin," Nova said softly. "They both got injured badly because of me."
Her voice cracked again — a fissure in her composure she could no longer hide.
A sudden, violent pain speared through her skull. Her hand shot to her forehead instinctively. Her vision snapped white, then bled into shadow.
Ashbane stood in a cavern of blackened stone, kneeling over a basin carved from bone.
He pressed his palm into the dark water, and tendrils of corrupted magic lashed outward, seeking, reaching, pulling on a tether Nova could feel along her spine.
He murmured a phrase in ancient Morbian — a phrase Nova recognized.
A clue. A warning.
A tightening of the chain that bound them.
Nova collapsed onto her hands and knees, the vision ripping the breath from her lungs.
"Nova!" Elle and Marra dropped beside her at once, hands on her shoulders, her back, grounding her as she trembled.
"Gods— I can't get it to stop," Nova sobbed, voice shaking so violently it barely sounded like her. "It's like he still has a hold on me and I can't escape."
"Nova— are you seeing visions?" Marra asked, fear and fury mixing in her voice.
Nova nodded, gasping for air.
"He knows I can see them now," she whispered. "He's aware. My mind is compromised."
She tried to stand, limbs trembling, breath ragged, the world tilting beneath her.
Elle steadied her.
Marra held her arm.
Nova forced herself upright anyway — stubborn, terrified, refusing to break.
"That makes two of us," Marra muttered, rubbing her temples.
Nova let out a broken laugh. "What the hell is wrong with us Shadowclaws?"
Elle snorted. "Speak for yourself. You two are the ones swapping mates like poorly-trained courtiers and losing your minds in the process." She lifted both brows. "I'm the only sane one here, which is deeply tragic for all of you."
Nova huffed a laugh. "I want to drink."
Elle and Marra both giggled at once.
"Nova at her wits' end," Marra announced solemnly, as though declaring a festival day.
"No— truly," Nova said, deadpan. "I could use a fucking drink."
That set both women off again, laughter echoing through the room like the one sound none of them expected tonight.
Elle crossed the room to the liquor cabinet in the corner, rifled through it like a seasoned thief, and poured Nova a gin and tonic.
Nova took one sip, grimaced violently, and stared into the glass as though it had personally betrayed her.
"That tastes horrible."
Marra and Elle erupted into laughter.
Elle promptly abandoned the gin, grabbed a bottle of white wine, and poured generous glasses for all three of them. They took a sip together.
Nova lowered her glass slightly. "Marra… I'm assuming your dream was very clear, based on your reaction. How— how bad will it be tomorrow?"
Marra met her eyes with a look so heavy and sad it said more than words could.
Nova exhaled. "It's alright. We'll break your curse first. And then we'll focus on Operation Don't Die For Me." She lifted her glass in mock salute.
"Oh— that reminds me," Nova added suddenly, glancing at the bottle Elle held. "Do you think we're allowed to bring these into the library?"
Both girls burst into laughter all over again.
Nova tipped her glass back and downed the entire thing in one go.
"Gods," Elle said, watching her. "You must have had a hard day."
Elle downed hers in solidarity. Marra followed a heartbeat later.
"I need to check something… and I have the distinct feeling it's important." She pressed a hand briefly to her ribs, ignoring the burn tearing through her.
She opened a portal to the Redmoon library. The three girls stepped through as one.
A dozen scholars froze mid-sentence, mid-page, mid-breath.
And Nova Shadowclaw—bloodstained, bruised, eyes sharp as moonlight—was stared at like a comet crashing straight through a monastery roof.
Realizing belatedly that she was wandering through the Redmoon library in nothing but a sports bra and the half-unzipped ruin of her training suit, she tried slipping her arm back in the sleeve but pain shot through her ribs. She winced.
Elle eyed the mangled fabric. "You have a literal hole in it anyways."
"This will only take a moment," Nova said, brushing it off. "The other day, when I was here… I saw something. Or felt something. Or I imagined something. I'm not sure. But I need to check."
She didn't wait for questions—just bolted up the broad staircase with a kind of ragged determination, heading toward the little reading nook near the tall windows: two armchairs, a low table, and a fireplace.
Marra's face drained of color the moment she recognized the spot.
Neither Nova, Elle, nor Marra noticed Beta Theo Fang watching from a nearby study desk, half-hidden behind a towering stack of tomes.
Nova moved one of the armchairs back, careful but wincing at the strain across her ribs. "I was in a bit of a trance… but I thought I saw something here."
"Gods, Nova—you have a literal hole in you. You do realize that, right?" Elle repeated, horrified and exasperated in equal measure.
"No," Nova said flatly, voice dry as old parchment. "I hadn't noticed."
Elle snorted. Marra clamped a hand over her mouth. Both of them dissolved into quiet laughter.
Nova rolled the rug back with swift, purposeful hands. She braced one palm on the floor, gripped the loose board with the other, and pulled. It lifted cleanly, revealing a folded piece of paper—its edges weathered, dated two years prior—and a slim journal tucked beside it as though someone had hidden them in great haste.
Nova skimmed the page, her breath catching. Realization slammed into her.
"This… this was what I needed for you," she whispered, looking at Marra.
She flipped the floorboard over. On the underside, affixed with old sealing wax, rested a letter bearing the Fang family sigil.
Nova pressed it into Marra's trembling hands. Elle crouched beside Nova, helping her fit the floorboard back into place.
"Redmoon is never inviting you back here," Elle muttered. "Every time you step into this library, you redecorate. And you're half dressed this time."
Nova gave her a dry look that made Elle snort.
"How did you…" Marra tried to speak but her voice broke. Tears streaked down her cheeks, falling onto the sealed letter.
Before Nova could answer, footsteps approached.
Beta Theo Fang stepped from between the shelves, eyes falling to the journal in Nova's hand. His expression shifted, softening with something like sorrow—and pride.
Without a word, he pulled Marra into his arms, holding her with the tenderness of a father comforting a child he'd feared lost. Elle's eyes shone. Even Nova felt her chest tighten.
Theo released Marra, then turned to Nova.
His gaze—wise, ancient in a way only certain men carried—settled on her like he could see every fracture in her soul.
"What do we say to the Lord of Death when he stands only hours away?" he asked.
Nova's breath caught because he knew. But then again, it would make sense he'd know. He was Beta of Redmoon after all.
She looked down, but Theo waited—still, expectant, giving her the dignity of choosing to answer.
"There is only one thing we say to death. Not today." He said, calmly.
Nova swallowed hard. "Not today," she echoed, her voice thin, wavering—realizing only in that instant how desperately she needed him to say it first.