Novah’s POV "So that's it? You just shrug your shoulders and let it happen? Let Novah be thrown to that… that animal?" The raw anger in Ashton's voice was terrifying, but beneath it, something else flickered – a desperation, a ragged edge that sounded almost like… pain?"What would you have me do, Ashton?" Camilia cried, her voice cracking. "Storm into his office? Issue an ultimatum? Challenge the Alpha? You know what the consequences of that would be! For me! For *you*!" Her voice dropped, becoming a fierce whisper I strained to hear. "This pack's stability is fragile enough. Open defiance? It would fracture everything!""Stability built on sacrificing Novah?" Ashton’s retort was scathing. "Some stability. What about *her* fracture? What about what it will do to her? Or does that not factor into your precious calculations?" His voice dropped lower, becoming a menacing growl. "You saw her, Mother. Truly saw her? In the drawing room? She looked like she was already at her own funeral.
Novah’s POV The cold marble floor beneath me seemed to leech the warmth directly from my bones, a physical sound of the glacial despair settling in my chest. Camilia’s muffled sobs had faded, leaving only the oppressive silence of the Vince mansion – a silence that screamed of my insignificance. Ashton’s furious defense, Camilia’s terrified helplessness… it hadn’t offered a lifeline. It had just shown me the bars of my cage more clearly. Powerless. Expendable. Omega.The memory of Ashton’s words earlier that day, delivered with a casual cruelty that still stung, echoed louder than the slammed door: *"Hanging out with you, Novah, is social suicide right now. Especially with Loveth… involved."* He hadn’t even looked at me as he’d said it, just tossed the grenade over his shoulder on his way to meet *her*. The implication was clear: I was toxic. Untouchable. A stain on his perfect future.A desperate, scrabbling need clawed its way up my throat. I couldn’t just sit here on this cold flo
Novah’s POV "So that's it? You just shrug your shoulders and let it happen? Let Novah be thrown to that… that animal?" The raw anger in Ashton's voice was terrifying, but beneath it, something else flickered – a desperation, a ragged edge that sounded almost like… pain?"What would you have me do, Ashton?" Camilia cried, her voice cracking. "Storm into his office? Issue an ultimatum? Challenge the Alpha? You know what the consequences of that would be! For me! For *you*!" Her voice dropped, becoming a fierce whisper I strained to hear. "This pack's stability is fragile enough. Open defiance? It would fracture everything!""Stability built on sacrificing Novah?" Ashton’s retort was scathing. "Some stability. What about *her* fracture? What about what it will do to her? Or does that not factor into your precious calculations?" His voice dropped lower, becoming a menacing growl. "You saw her, Mother. Truly saw her? In the drawing room? She looked like she was already at her own funeral.
Novah’s POV Alone again, I dragged myself to my desk. The science project folder lay there, a stark reminder of my public failure. *Fix it.* Ashton’s voice echoed in my head. I opened the folder with trembling fingers. The assignment sheet, the notes I’d meticulously taken before the disastrous partnership began… it all looked like gibberish. My mind felt sluggish, thick with despair. How could I possibly design and execute a complex project on electromagnetic fields alone? Especially when the mere thought of physics made my head spin? It was hopeless. Just another thing I was destined to fail at.I pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, more out of habit than hope. My gaze drifted to the corner of the desk drawer. Slowly, I pulled it open. Beneath a stack of unused notebooks lay my old sketchpad. The one filled with hearts and swirling script. With trembling fingers, I opened it. Page after page of ‘Ashton Vince’ filled my vision, encircled by intricate doodles – stars, moons, tangled v
Novah's POVThe click of the drawing room door behind Ashton felt like the final snap of a trap. The lingering scent of cedarwood and leather, so obviously *him*, so potent with Alpha dominance, choked the air, overpowering Camilia’s fragile jasmine and vanilla. It was a physical weight pressing down on my chest, making each shallow breath a struggle. *Family strategy discussion. Pack business.* The words echoed in the hollow space Ashton had left behind, carving deeper the chasm between me and… everything. Them. The future. Hope.Camilia’s sigh was a soft, defeated sound in the opulent silence. “I’m sorry, Novah,” she murmured again, the apology landing like dust on my already raw nerves. She sounded weary, defeated. Just like me. But her defeat came from a place of frustrated power. Mine came from utter powerlessness. “He’s… navigating complex waters. Loveth’s family… they hold significant sway.”*Complex waters. Navigation. Strategy.* The words swirled meaninglessly in my head, lik
Novah’s POV The drawing room. Camilia. The thought offered a sliver of… not hope, but perhaps a brief respite from the Alpha’s glacial disapproval. Camilia tried. She wasn’t Meredith, but she wasn’t my father either. Her scent, when I hesitantly pushed open the drawing room door a while later, was a gentle wave of jasmine and vanilla, a deliberate contrast to the house’s austerity. She sat perched on the edge of a brocade sofa, her posture elegant, her expression carefully neutral as she looked up from a book.“Novah,” she greeted, her voice warm, though her eyes held a flicker of concern as they took me in. I’d splashed cold water on my face, tried to tame my hair, but the redness around my eyes and the lingering pallor were undeniable. “Come in, dear. Sit down.”I obeyed, perching on the very edge of an armchair opposite her, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. The room was opulent, filled with expensive, uncomfortable-looking furniture and art that felt impersonal. It smelled fain