Chapter 9 Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Nova’s POV
I pulled back just enough to look at him. My voice came out small and shaky. “There is something else. Something I have not told you.”
Alaric’s brows furrowed. “What?”
I took a shaky breath, my fingers twisting in the blanket. The words felt heavy on my tongue, like they had been sitting there for days, waiting to choke me. “I can… heal things. Or at least I used to. Back in Silverfang, I would touch a wound, an animal, even a dying plant, and pull the damage out. I gave it back something whole. But when Drake attacked me that day… everything went wrong. The power flipped. Instead of giving, it took. I ripped his essence out of him. His wolf. His life force. He just collapsed. Empty. And it is still inside me. This hot, angry thing that keeps twisting and burning. I am terrified it will happen again. To you. To anyone here.”
Alaric went completely still. His hands stayed on my arms, his grip tightening for just a second before it softened again. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t flinch. He simply looked at me, those green eyes searching my face like he was trying to see every broken piece I had been hiding.
“You are telling me this now,” he said quietly.
“I was terrified you would see me the way they did,” I whispered. “Like a monster.”
He let out a slow breath and cupped my face with one big, calloused hand. “You are not a monster, Nova. You are someone who has been carrying this nightmare alone for way too long.” His thumb brushed gently over my scarred cheek. “We will figure it out. Together. No more secrets. Okay?”
I nodded, tears burning hot behind my eyes. “Okay.”
He pulled me back against his chest and held me tighter than before, like he could shield me from the darkness I carried. Outside, the night stayed quiet.
Too quiet.
Something was still watching.
\---
The settlement stayed locked down for three long days. No more strange howls. No more shadows slipping through walls. But the silence felt heavier than any noise. Everyone moved fast and quiet, heads down. Patrols crisscrossed the territory constantly. Meals happened in strict shifts with almost no talking. The children weren’t allowed past the main clearing, and even the dogs seemed to sense the tension, barking only rarely and low.
Alaric stayed close the whole time. He slept on the floor beside the bed most nights, back against the wall, one arm resting over his knee like he could spring up fighting in a heartbeat. He called it simple caution. I believed him, but I also saw the way his eyes flicked toward every dark corner and how his shoulders never fully relaxed.
I hated feeling useless. Hated staying trapped inside while he risked himself out there. Hated the stares that followed us whenever we stepped outside, like I carried death on my skin.
On the fourth morning, I woke early. Thin stripes of sunlight cut through the window. Alaric was still asleep, head tipped back against the wall, mouth slightly open. The bandage on his side showed fresh red spots. He had torn it open again during another false alarm the night before.
I slipped out of bed carefully, trying not to wake him. I pulled on my boots and one of his old shirts that hung loose down past my thighs. The small garden behind the cabin was nothing special, just a patch of dirt with herbs and vegetables the previous occupant had tried to grow. Weeds had taken over most of it. A row of tomato plants looked especially bad, leaves yellowed and curled black at the edges, stems drooping like they had already given up.
I knelt in the cool, damp soil. I hadn’t planned on doing anything big. I just wanted to feel useful for once. To fix something small.
My hands hovered over the worst of the plants. The black rot looked like it was spreading fast. I thought of the fox back in Silverfang territory, how I used to draw pain out and give life back. Before it all turned ugly.
The stolen piece of Drake inside me stirred. Not angry this time. Just… curious.
I let the power rise slowly, carefully. Just a faint warmth at my fingertips. I focused on the healthy green veins still fighting inside the leaves and asked the damaged parts to remember what they once were. No dramatic lights. No glowing hands. Just a quiet pull, like breathing hope back into something tired.
The black spots slowly shrank. The yellow faded into pale green, then deeper. New little leaves began to uncurl. The stems straightened, just a little. In less than a minute the whole row looked stronger. Not perfect, but alive again. Fighting.
I sat back on my heels. My hands trembled only a little. Relief washed through me so hard my eyes stung. It still worked. I could give without taking.
Footsteps crunched on the path behind me.
I turned fast, heart leaping into my throat.
Elara stood at the low fence, basket on her hip. Her silver-streaked hair was pulled back tight. She had clearly been heading toward the kitchens.
She looked at the tomato plants. Her frown deepened. “Those were nearly dead yesterday.”
I wiped my dirty palms on my thighs. “I was weeding. Pulled out a lot. Looks like it helped.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Weeding doesn’t make black rot disappear that fast.”
I shrugged, keeping my voice steady. “Maybe the sun hit them differently today. Or the soil is better back here. I don’t know. I just yanked the weeds.”
Elara stared at me for a long moment, then reached over the fence and touched one of the leaves. When she pulled her fingers back, there was no black on them.
“Huh,” she said. “My sister’s garden looks worse than this. Same blight going around. Everyone’s been complaining about it since the last full moon.”
I swallowed hard. “Sorry to hear that.”
She gave me a long, weighing look. Not warm, not hostile. Just measuring. “If you know something that helps… people might appreciate it. Winter is coming. Food stores are already tight.”
“I don’t know anything,” I said quickly. “Just pulled weeds.”
She snorted softly. “Right. Weeds.” She adjusted her basket. “I won’t say anything. But if more plants suddenly start looking like this… people talk.”
She walked off toward the main path without another word.
I stayed kneeling in the dirt, heart pounding. I had gotten away with it. She suspected something, but she hadn’t seen anything she could prove. No glow. No miracle. Just better plants after weeding.
Still, the thing inside me twisted again. Hotter this time. Like it had tasted the healing and wanted more. Wanted to take.
The cabin door creaked open. Alaric stepped out, hair messy from sleep, eyes already scanning the yard the way he always did. When he saw me in the garden, his shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“What are you doing out here?” His voice was still rough with sleep.
I stood and brushed the dirt off my knees. “Weeding. The tomatoes looked bad. Figured I could help a little.”
He walked over and studied the row. A small, tired smile touched his mouth. “They were dying yesterday. Look a lot better now.”
“Yeah. Guess the weeds were choking them. Pulled a bunch. Seems to have worked.”
He nodded. “Good. The pack is losing crops everywhere. Kitchens are already rationing. If this patch stays healthy… it’s one less thing to worry about.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “I just wanted to do something useful.”
He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed once. “You did. Thank you.”
There was no suspicion in his eyes. No questions. Just quiet relief.
We stood there for a moment. The bond hummed between us, not wild or desperate, just steady. Like it was waiting too.
Voices drifted over from the kitchens. Curious ones. Someone had already noticed the garden.
Alaric glanced over his shoulder. “Word is going to spread fast.”
“I know.”
He looked back at me. “You ready for people to start asking questions?”
I took a deep breath. “No. But I am tired of being useless.”
He gave one short nod. “Then let’s go talk to my father. Before someone else does.”
We walked toward the main hall side by side. Not touching, but close enough that every brush of our arms felt deliberate.
Behind us, the tomato plants stood taller in the morning light. Green. Healthy.
For the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel completely like a monster.
I felt like someone who might actually be able to help.
But deep inside, the stolen piece of Darkness stayed quiet.
Watching and waiting.