Chapter 7

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• Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 73

  Novah’s POV The cabin’s warmth had been a lie.The fire’s embers were cold ash when I woke, curled under the thick wool blanket Ashton had tucked around me. The space beside the couch where he’d knelt, where his eyes had held something terrifyingly close to *promise*, was empty. Only the faint scent of pine and his unique, sharp alpha musk lingered, already fading."Rest," he’d said. "I’ll speak to Father."Hope. Brittle, stupid hope. It had unfurled in my chest like a poisoned flower during the night, fed by the broth, the crackling fire, the sheer, impossible relief of not being alone. For a few stolen hours, the crushing weight of being Novah Thorne – omega, burden, pawn – had lifted.Now, the silence screamed. The cabin felt like a stage after the actors had fled, leaving only the hollow set. I pushed myself up, muscles protesting, head still fuzzy at the edges from whatever Loveth had slipped into that sickly-sweet tea. The memory of Nick’s hands, his breath, the terrifying para

• Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 72

  Novah’s POV It started with the tea.Too sweet.I should’ve known something was off from the moment I took that first sip. The sugar clung to the roof of my mouth in a syrupy coat, masking something... earthy. Metallic, even. But I’d smiled at Nick—because that’s what omegas do. We smile. We say thank you. We swallow.“You looked tense,” he’d said, handing me the cup. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”The smile on his face had been warm. Almost too warm. It didn’t match the usual clipped tone or the impatient glares he usually gave me. For a moment, I’d thought—stupidly—that maybe things were changing. That maybe he was trying to be... kind.I should’ve known.I sipped, anyway.Because omegas don’t ask questions. Omegas don’t make scenes.And by the time I realized the warmth crawling through my limbs wasn’t comfort but something else entirely... it was too late.---The hallway spun.Not violently—just slow enough to keep me unsure. A tilt here. A sway there. The walls didn’t stay where

• Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 71

  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.

• Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 70

  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

• Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 69

  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.

• Mated To My Stepbrother    Chapter 68

  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