Chapter 13 Chapter 13

Chapter 13 Chapter 13
Chapter 13

Nova’s POV

Alaric didn’t sleep that night. He sat by the window for hours, knife in hand, sharpening the blade with slow, deliberate strokes. Back and forth. Back and forth. The steady rasp of steel against stone filled the quiet cabin like a heartbeat. I understood why he did it. He needed something to keep his hands busy, something to focus on so he wouldn’t walk out into the dark and start the war himself.

I couldn’t sleep either. I lay on the bed with the blanket pulled up to my chin, staring at the wooden beams overhead. Every creak outside made my body tense. Every gust of wind sounded like footsteps creeping closer. My mind kept spinning through the worst possibilities.

Around three in the morning, he finally set the knife down. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, saying nothing at first. He just looked at me, his green eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“You’re awake,” he said quietly.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded, then pulled off his boots and shirt, leaving his pants on. He slid under the blanket beside me, moving carefully, like he was afraid he might break me if he wasn’t gentle enough.

I turned toward him and rested my head on his shoulder. His arm came around me, heavy and warm. He smelled like pine, steel, and the faint copper tang of old blood that never quite washed away.

“They’re coming,” I whispered into the darkness.

“Yeah.”

“How soon?”

“Scouts say two days. Maybe three. They’re gathering wagons, weapons. They’re not even trying to hide it anymore.”

I closed my eyes, guilt twisting sharp in my chest. “Because of me.”

He shifted, pulling me closer against him. “Because Kieran is a coward who would rather burn the whole world than admit his son was trash.”

I swallowed hard. “People are going to die, Alaric.”

“They are.” His voice came out low and rough. “And I hate it. I hate every part of it. But I hate the thought of handing you over even more.”

I lifted my head to look at him. “You would really fight your own kind for me? Risk everything?”

“If they make me choose?” He met my eyes without hesitation. “Yes.”

The bond between us pulsed then, steady and heavy, like it was carrying the same burden he was. I reached up and touched his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath my fingers. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I haven’t.”

I moved closer and pressed my forehead to his. “Lie down. Please.”

He let out a long, tired breath and finally did. He lay on his back and pulled me against his side. I rested my head on his chest, one leg thrown over his, my arm across his torso. His hand settled on my hip, warm and grounding.

We didn’t speak for a long time. We just breathed together. His heartbeat thumped under my ear, strong but tired. Mine matched its rhythm, slow and steady in the quiet.

“I keep thinking about what Kieran called me,” I said eventually. “An abomination. Dangerous. Like I’m nothing but a weapon.”

Alaric’s fingers traced small, soothing circles on my hip. “You’re not a weapon, Nova. You’re you. You’re the girl who healed those tomato plants when no one was watching. You’re the girl who was terrified but still healed my wounds anyway. You’re the girl who stood beside me in that hall even when the whole pack was staring daggers at you.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. I didn’t let them fall. “I’m scared I’ll hurt you. The thing inside me… if it flips again—”

“Then we stop it,” he said firmly, his voice quiet but absolute. “Together. You’re not carrying this alone anymore.”

I nodded against his chest. His words settled something deep inside me, even if the fear didn’t completely leave.

He tilted my chin up with gentle fingers. His eyes were tired, but they were clear and full of quiet determination. “I’m not losing you. Not to Kieran. Not to the pack. Not to whatever is inside you.”

I leaned up and kissed him. Soft at first. Slow. No rush. Just the simple press of lips, a reminder that we were still here, still breathing. His hand cupped my face, thumb brushing tenderly over my scarred cheek. I kissed him again, deeper this time, but still careful. Still gentle. Like we were memorizing each other in case tomorrow took everything away.

When I finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

I curled tighter into him, leg draped over his, arm wrapped around his chest. He held me close, one hand buried in my hair.

Outside, the wind picked up, carrying low voices from the ridge. A distant horn sounded.

Alaric’s arm tightened around me.

I closed my eyes.

Tomorrow would come. The fight would come.

But right now, he was here. His heartbeat under my cheek. His warmth surrounding me. And for the first time in days, I let myself believe we might actually make it through this.

\---

Morning came gray and cold. I woke first. Alaric was still asleep beside me, his face relaxed for once, mouth slightly open, one arm heavy across my waist. I watched him for a long moment, taking in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way the faint scar on his shoulder caught the weak morning light.

I slipped out of bed quietly, pulled on my boots, and threw one of his shirts over my tunic. I walked to the window and looked out.

The settlement was already stirring. Smoke curled from chimneys. Warriors moved toward the armory with grim purpose. Children stayed close to doorways, sensing the tension in the air.

Alaric stirred behind me. He sat up, rubbed his face, and yawned. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t stay asleep.”

He stood and came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. We looked out the window together.

“They’re readying supplies,” he said. “Food. Arrows. Bandages. Kael wants everything in place by nightfall.”

I leaned back against his chest, drawing strength from his solid warmth. “What happens when they come?”

“We hold the ridge. Push them back. Make them pay for every inch they try to take.”

I turned in his arms and looked up at him. “And if they break through?”

His expression hardened, but his hands stayed gentle on my waist. “They won’t. But if they do, we fall back to the settlement. Fight street by street. Cabin by cabin if we have to.”

“I don’t want to hide,” I said.

“You won’t,” he promised. He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “But you stay behind the line. You stay alive. That’s the only order I care about right now.”

I nodded, even though fear still coiled tight in my stomach.

He kissed me again, slow and firm, like he was memorizing the feel of me. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine for a moment.

“I have to go. Council meeting, then out to the ridge.”

“Take someone with you.”

“I will.” He kissed my forehead one last time. “Stay inside. Lock the door. I’ll be back before dark.”

He left. The door clicked shut behind him.

I locked it and sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at my hands. They looked so ordinary. Just normal hands. But I knew what they could do. What they could give. And what they could take.

Outside, horns answered from the ridge again.

Closer this time.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

The war was coming.

And I was tired of waiting for it to find me.