Chapter 51 Nova Is Nowhere
Cassain's Perspective
“It seems everyone wants a piece of your attention tonight.”
Maren’s voice drifts toward me, smooth and amused, as if she’s been watching me longer than I realized.
I push myself away from the wall I’ve been leaning against and glance at her, already irritated.
“Everyone except the person I actually want to see,” I mutter, my gaze sweeping across the crowded dance floor again.
Nova has to be here somewhere.
The last time I saw her, she was dancing with Alex, smiling in that polite way she uses when she’s trying to enjoy herself for someone else’s sake. That was… a while ago. Too long ago.
“Ouch,” Maren says lightly. “You could at least pretend you’re happy to see me.”
She tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear, exposing the sharp line of her jaw. Everything about her is deliberate, every movement calculated to draw attention.
The only reason I’ve been hiding near the wall is to avoid another meaningless dance or another empty conversation with nobles who only speak to hear themselves talk. I’m already exhausted by it.
Still, I turn toward her out of courtesy. Barely.
“How are you, Maren?” I ask dryly. “Found any new ways to ruin my life lately?”
She smiles, slow and wicked, lifting her glass for a sip. “Always. And I’m always looking for new ways to ruin you personally, too.”
Her green eyes drag over me in a way that would flatter most men.
It only irritates me.
“I’m not in the mood,” I say flatly.
I should have known she’d find me eventually. She has an uncanny talent for appearing exactly when my patience runs out.
“What’s wrong?” she teases, stepping closer and resting a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off immediately. “Your mistress isn’t glued to your side tonight?”
My attention snaps back to the crowd.
“Where are you Nova?” I murmur, barely hiding my annoyance as I scan the dance floor again.
The realization settles slowly, I truly haven’t seen her for some time now. At first, I assumed she’d drifted into another conversation or been pulled into another dance. That happens constantly at gatherings like this.
But now…
Now I can’t feel her presence anywhere nearby.
“Minding her own business,” Maren replies casually, sipping her wine. “Enjoying the party.”
Her fingers brush my cheek, attempting to turn my face toward hers. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Zion.”
Normally that name would hook my full attention instantly.
Not tonight.
“First,” I say, pulling slightly away, “I need to know where Nova is.”
Maren sighs dramatically. “Cassain, this is a celebration. She’s somewhere having fun.” Her fingers hook into my sleeve as she leans closer. “Your mistress will no doubt return to your room later. Must we spend the entire evening discussing her?”
Suspicion flares sharp and sudden.
“Why do I feel like you’ve done something?” I ask quietly.
“What could I possibly have done?” she replies, feigning innocence, but the wicked glint in her eyes gives her away.
That’s enough.
I step away from her without another word and move straight onto the dance floor.
I split apart a pair of dancers blocking my path and continue searching, irritation sharpening into something darker with every step.
She’s nowhere.
I turn toward the exit, my strides lengthening. Maybe she grew tired and slipped away to one of the guest rooms. That would make sense.
Or maybe someone upset her. Maren has a gift for quiet cruelty, a well-placed comment could have driven Nova away from the crowd entirely.
I vaguely remember a large fountain around around the corner, a quiet place guests use when they want privacy.
Something pulls me forward.
Instinct prickles along my spine, every sense sharpening as I step deeper into the shadows, leaving laughter and light behind.
Then I turn the corner.
And everything inside me snaps tight.
Nova is pressed against Lord LeRoy.
Her dress is rumpled beneath his hands, his hands locked around her waist as he crowds into her space. His face is buried against her neck, pressed into the loose waves of her auburn hair.
For half a second, confusion freezes me, the instinct drives me to step back, to assume I’ve interrupted something private.
Then I see her struggle.
Her hands shove against his chest. Her body twists away, trying to create distance he refuses to give.
Something inside me snaps.
I’m speaking before thought catches up.
“Lord LeRoy.”
My voice cuts through the garden like a crack of thunder.
He jerks back immediately, startled. In his haste, he releases Nova too roughly, practically shoving her aside. She stumbles on her heels, swaying as she struggles to regain her balance.
A surge of fury floods me so violently it nearly blinds me.
“Alpha,” LeRoy stammers, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes dart between us. “Good evening.”
Good evening.
The words echo mockingly in my head.
I force myself to remain still. Nova doesn’t need to witness what I’m capable of when control slips. And killing a noble in Maren’s grounds would create political chaos she would happily exploit.
Even if every instinct screams for it.
“It must be an excellent evening for you,” I say slowly, my voice cold enough to frost the air, “considering your hands were just all over my mistress.”