chapter 6
1043 Words
Nova’s POV
Friday. Finally.
If I had to hear one more lecture on pack diplomacy or get slammed into the mats by a trainee who underestimated me because I’m “small,” I was going to shift and scream. This first week had been intense—mentally, physically, emotionally. Especially with him around.
Max.
The Lycan Prince was the only person who could get under my skin with just a look. I’d handled glares, passive-aggressive snubs, and even open bullying in my life—but Max? He was… different. It was like he studied me just to figure out exactly what would push me over the edge. And annoyingly, it worked.
I flopped back on my bed in the dorms, eyes closed, finally able to breathe for a minute.
And then my phone buzzed.
Elara: Party tonight. Don’t even think about skipping.
Me: Hard pass.
Elara: I’ll drag you there myself, Moonie.
I groaned. Elara could be sweet, but she was stubborn as hell. After this week, the last thing I wanted was loud music, small talk, and Lycans trying to size me up like I was a threat or a snack.
Still... I couldn’t shake the dream from the other night. The voice that said I was the only one. What did that even mean?
Maybe the party could be a good place to… watch. Listen. Pick up on what the Council or Max’s inner circle might be whispering. Not like I’d have fun, but information? That I could work with.
Steam curled through the bathroom like a fog, warm against my skin as I stepped into the shower. I let the water pour over me, washing away the weight of the week—stress, sweat, and the buzz of questions I didn’t have answers to.
My mind should’ve been on the party. On figuring out a way to fake a good time. On keeping my guard up.
But it wasn’t.
It was on him.
Max.
I hated that he took up so much space in my head. His infuriating smirk. The way his voice lowered when he challenged me in training. The way his eyes—those dark, stormy eyes—watched me when he thought I wasn’t looking.
I closed my eyes, leaning my head back under the water.
And just like that, I imagined it: Max behind me, his breath hot against my ear, his hands settling on my waist, possessive and steady. My body reacted before I could stop it—heat rising not from the water but from somewhere deeper, more dangerous.
"You're mine," I could almost hear him growl, low and primal.
My breath caught. Goddess, what was wrong with me?
This wasn’t me. I didn’t do this. I didn’t dream about boys, especially not arrogant Lycans who lived to provoke me.
But the more I tried to push the thought away, the stronger it clung to me.
I caught myself, heart thudding as I gripped the edge of the shower wall. Get it together, Nova. This wasn’t real. It was just… hormones. Exhaustion. Too much training. Too many confusing dreams.
I finished my shower quickly, wrapping myself in a towel and forcing my thoughts back into cold, familiar order. Max might haunt my thoughts, but that didn’t mean I had to give him any space in my heart.
Still… I couldn't shake the heat that lingered on my skin, or the phantom feeling of hands that never touched me.
—-
Max’s POV
Friday, thank the Goddess.
This week had been chaos. Training sessions that pushed even me to my limit. Political strategy classes that bored me to death. And Nova.
She was everywhere.
Every class, every drill, every thought I didn’t ask for. She was infuriating—clever, guarded, determined to stay unnoticed even though everyone couldn’t stop staring. Including me.
And the worst part? She was better than half the Lycans in my year. Maybe even me.
I slumped into the chair in my private dorm suite, running a hand through my hair.
Logan: Party at the cliff house tonight. Non-negotiable.
Me: Hard pass.
Logan: Prince or not, I’m dragging your brooding ass if I have to.
The only thing worse than being ordered around by the Council was being bossed by my best friend.
Still… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to show face. Keep appearances. Watch Nova. She fascinated me more than I liked to admit—and my dream the other night hadn’t helped.
“You will stand beside her… or fall in her shadow.”
What the hell did that even mean?
All I knew was this: the Moonborn girl wasn’t just another student. She was something else entirely.
And I had a feeling this weekend would only raise more questions.
The jacket hanging on my closet door felt more like armor than clothing.
I hated these parties. The noise, the expectations, the way everyone either wanted to challenge me, impress me, or use me. Being a prince meant you were always performing—except I never asked for the stage.
I button my shirt slowly, jaw tense. My muscles still ached from the week’s training, but it wasn’t just that keeping me on edge.
It was her.
Nova.
Sharp-tongued. Wild-eyed. Fierce as hell. She moved through the halls like she didn’t belong to anyone—and it drove me insane.
Not because she was hard to control.
Because I didn’t want to control her.
I wanted to understand her. And that was dangerous.
Especially after that dream—the one I hadn’t told anyone about.
Her.
Nova.
I didn’t believe in fate. I didn’t believe in much, honestly. But the pull I felt toward her wasn’t normal. It was something ancient. Primal. Like every part of me—every shift, every shadow, every instinct—recognized her even when I didn’t want to.
I caught my reflection in the mirror, straightening my collar.
"Get it together," I muttered.
This party wasn’t about her. It was about showing face. Letting the Council see I was playing along. Letting my father hear that his son was still the perfect heir.
But I knew the truth.
Something was changing. The air around me felt heavy. Watchful.
And Nova Rosewood? She was the epicenter.
- Writer
