Novah's POV
I couldn't stop the flutter of excitement in my chest as Jason and I walked through the mall. I was practically buzzing with anticipation.
After everything that happened at school today, I needed an escape—something to help me breathe, to unwind, to forget the sad, lonely rhythm of my life, even if just for a little while.
So I chose something different. I decided to go shopping—for my new brother. A brother I hadn’t even met yet.
Strange, maybe. But it gave me something to look forward to. A reason to smile.
And if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was shop for guys.
I’d been buying Jason gifts for years—headphones, sneakers, cologne, even limited-edition comic book merch.
Gift-giving was my love language, and keeping up with what was trendy for boys came naturally now.
I’d never had a sibling before, let alone one that lived under the same roof. Growing up, it had always been just me—my father and me, and nothing else.
I had been raised by maids, and the silence of the house had always felt overwhelming, like an empty echo that followed me everywhere and it was exhausting.
Jason didn’t get it, of course. To him, having a brother—or anyone, really—wasn’t something to get excited over.
We were already practically family, and yet, I couldn’t help but feel this strange mix of hope and nerves.
“You know, I still don’t get why you’re so excited,” Jason said, his voice filled with a hint of confusion. “You already have me as a brother. Isn’t that enough?”
I couldn’t help but smile at him, though it didn’t reach my eyes.
“It’s not the same, Jay. You’re my best friend, but I want a brother who shares the same roof with me. Someone who’s around every day. Someone who—”
“Someone who what?” Jason interrupted, his eyebrow raised, clearly uninterested in the deep emotional complexity I was trying to explain. “What’s wrong with the family you’ve got?”
I sighed, choosing to skip over the complicated answer. “I don’t know. I guess I just want to feel like I belong, you know?”
Jason shot me a sympathetic glance, though he clearly didn’t fully understand. But that was okay.
I wasn’t asking for him to understand. I just needed him to be supportive, like he always was.
We wandered through the mall, and I finally settled on a gift for my new brother—a sleek pair of headphones.
Nothing too extravagant, but enough to show that I thought about him and wanted him to like me.
“I think he’ll like these,” I said, looking at the box in my hands.
Jason gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. It’s up to him. You can’t make someone like you by buying them stuff, Novah.”
Jason's words actually made me feel bad but I decided to ignore him and continued shopping.
I even got wine for my father, maybe that'd impress him that I got a thoughtful gift for his girlfriend and he'd actually speak nice of me for the first time.
Jason was whistling beside me, pushing the shopping cart with a spring in his step like we were at the mall just for fun.
“So you mean you actually got the latest edition of headphones for someone you've never met before? I never knew you to be this desperate, you're changing Novah and desperation doesn't look good on you”
Jason said, raising a brow as he tossed a box of chocolates into the cart. “Am I not enough for you anymore?”
I rolled my eyes, smiling despite trying to keep it cool, Jason was already getting on my nerves.
“Jay, can't you at least be happy for me? I know it might sound and look childish to you, but I really want to know how it feels like to have a sibling, you're more than enough, but something tells me my new brother would be different”
He made a mock gasp. “You’re trading me in for a replacement. I’m heartbroken.”
I nudged him lightly. “You’ll survive.”
Jason’s grin faded a little as we turned into another aisle. “So… I heard what happened at school. With Loveth.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. Just like that, the joy of shopping fizzled into smoke.
Jason continued, voice low and serious. “She really humiliated you in class over Ashton Vince? Are you serious, Novah? And your glasses? She broke them?”
I kept my eyes glued to the gift section, pretending to study the options.
“I saw the video,” he added. “Everyone did.”
My throat tightened. “Yeah, I know.”
Jason ran a hand through his curls.
“What the hell, Nova? You just stood there. You let her talk to you like that. You let her treat you like trash. That’s not you.”
My fingers curled around the edge of the shelf. “She was just being Loveth and it's just a video Jason, not a death sentence. Give or take, two weeks, it'd be forgotten when a new story comes up”
“Can you hear yourself talk, Novah? You were being quiet when you should’ve stood your ground. You’re the smartest girl in school! You’ve got all those awards—Mathlete champ, Science Bee winner, Best Essayist two years in a row. You’re literally the only student our teachers talk about like you’re made of gold.”
His voice grew louder, passionate. “But instead of holding your head high, you’re acting like you’re nothing. You’re selling yourself short, Novah. Why?”
I spun around and looked him dead in the eyes, years of invisible pain bubbling to the surface. “Because you wouldn’t understand.”
He blinked. “Try me.”
“You’re part of the school’s star basketball team. Everyone wants to be your friend. Your phone buzzes nonstop with DMs from girls who laugh at your dry jokes. You get invited to every party.”
He opened his mouth, but I kept going.
“You go home to parents who love you. Siblings. Noise and warmth. I go home to silence. To a father I barely see and memories of a mother I lost too young to even remember her voice.”
My voice cracked. “So no, Jason. You don’t get to lecture me about what I should or shouldn’t feel. You have no idea what it means to walk in my shoes.”
“Novah—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off. “I don’t want your apology. Not now.”
And before he could say another word, I turned and walked away.
---
Back home, I stood in front of the mirror, holding up dress after dress. My room looked like a hurricane had passed through, but I didn’t care. I wanted to look perfect for this new chapter of my life.
This wasn’t just about impressing a stepmom or a stepbrother. It was about reclaiming something. Family. Belonging.
I settled on a blue gown that flared just above my knees, pairing it with white flats.
As I checked my reflection one last time, there was a knock on the door.
“Miss Novah?” It was the maid.
“Yes?”
“Your father says the visitors have arrived. He’s asking for you downstairs.”
I grabbed the box of gifts I’d carefully wrapped earlier and walked out, heart thudding.
One step at a time, I descended the stairs, reminding myself to breathe. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was ready to meet my new family.
Then I saw him.
Tall. Dressed in black. That face.
The box of gifts slipped from my hands and tumbled to the floor with a loud thud.
Standing beside my father was Ashton Vince.
My stepbrother.
Novah’s POV The afternoon offered a fragile escape. The herb garden, tucked against the south wall, was a pocket of stubborn life. Weak winter sun struggled through high clouds, warming the dark earth fractionally. Meredith was already there, her hands buried in the soil, tending rosemary and thyme that defied the frost. The air was clean, sharp with the scent of damp earth and sage, a stark, blessed contrast to the Keep’s thick atmosphere. I knelt beside her, mimicking her movements, pulling weeds with clumsy, city-soft fingers. The physical act helped. Grounding. *Anchor.* Earth. Cold, clean air. The scent of green defiance. *Layer calm.* The pack pulse was muffled here, softened by stone and distance, though the underlying anxiety still thrummed, a constant, low drone."He pushes harder," I said quietly, wrestling with a tenacious root.Meredith sighed, a soft exhalation like wind through bare branches. "Fear feeds his boldness. Danger’s shadow makes him taller. He scents blood, c
Novah's POVDawn wasn’t gentle. It seeped through the arrow slit like grey sludge, leaching colour from the stones, failing to touch the chill deep in the Keep’s bones. I lay still, eyes closed, breathing shallow. Not listening, exactly. *Feeling*. The pack pulse.Low tide again. Not the frantic surge of crisis, nor the suffocating undertow of grief. This was slower, denser. A thick, viscous thrumming beneath the skin of the world. *Anxiety. North.* It coated everything, sticky and cold. *Weariness.* Bone-deep, the kind that settled after too many hollow-eyed returns from the hunt. *Watchfulness.* Sharp, brittle shards – Thorne’s faction, coiled and waiting. And beneath it all, the bedrock: *Grief.* For Finn’s mother. For Finn. Settled now, not a wound but a constant ache, like damp wool against the skin. *Grief. Finn.*I pushed myself up. The stone floor bit into my bare soles, a familiar, grounding shock. *Anchor.* Cold. Solid. Unyielding. Yesterday’s raw edges – Doric’s fury, Maren
Novah’s POV The word hung in the suddenly silent hall, sharp as a shard of ice. *Distraction.* Heat flooded my face, a mix of scalding anger and cold humiliation. The wolf surged, a silent snarl building in my chest. *Guardian!* I clenched my fists under the table, nails biting crescents into my palms. *Anchor.* Stone. Breath. The scrape of Torin’s spoon. *Layer calm. Layer calm.* Not for Thorne. For the pack. For the frightened eyes watching. *Show them the banks hold.*Torin’s voice cut through the brittle air, low and hard as the mountain itself. "Every soul under this roof *is* the core, Thorne. From the greybeards to the weanlings. Protect one, protect all. That’s the strength of the bond." He held Thorne’s gaze. "Or have the years worn that truth thin?"Thorne’s smile was a thin, bloodless line. "I forget nothing, Beta. Least of all the cost of misplaced… sentiment." He pushed his barely-touched bowl away. "We’ll see how enduring that bond feels when the enemy’s breath mists th
Novah's POVThe cold wasn't just in the stones anymore. It had seeped into the marrow of the Keep, into the spaces between breaths. Dawn was a reluctant smear of grey beyond my slit window, offering no warmth, only the slow reveal of another day heavy with unspoken things. I lay still, eyes closed, listening. Not just to the distant drip of melting frost, but to the *hum*. The pack pulse.It was a low tide today. Not the crashing waves of yesterday’s confrontation at the forge, nor the suffocating undertow of Maren’s grief. This was deeper, slower. A thick, viscous thrumming beneath the skin of the world. *Anxiety. North.* It coated everything, sticky and cold. *Weariness.* Bone-deep, from hunters returning hollow-eyed under a moon that offered no prey. *Watchfulness.* Sharp, brittle, like shards of ice – Thorne’s faction, coiled and waiting. And beneath it all, the bedrock layer: *Grief.* For Finn’s mother. For Finn. Settled now, not sharp, but pervasive, like damp in old wool. *Grie
Novah’s POV The word hung in the air, sharp as a knife. *Distraction.* Heat flooded my face, a mix of anger and humiliation. The wolf surged again, a protective snarl building in my chest. *Guardian!* I clenched my fists under the table, nails digging into my palms. *Anchor.* Stone. Breath. The scrape of a spoon. *Layer calm. Layer calm.* Not for Thorne. For the pack. For the anxious eyes watching this exchange. *Show them the banks hold.*Torin’s voice cut through the tension, low and hard as bedrock. "Every member of this pack is the core, Thorne. From the oldest warrior to the youngest pup. Protecting one is protecting all. That is the strength of the bond." He held Thorne’s gaze. "Or have you forgotten?"Thorne’s smile was thin, humorless. "I forget nothing, Beta. Especially not the cost of misplaced… sentiment." He pushed his barely-touched bowl away. "We shall see how enduring the bond feels when the enemy is at the *gate*, not just beyond the ridge." He stood, Roric and Selene
Novah's POVDawn bled grey and reluctant through the narrow slit of my window. Not the fiery promise of sunrise, just a slow leaching of the dark, like water soaking into parched earth. I lay still, eyes closed, breathing shallow. The stone beneath my thin mattress was cold, a familiar anchor against the chaos already stirring *within*.*Anchor.* Breath. Cold stone. The rough weave of the blanket. *Layer calm.*But beneath that deliberate focus, the pack pulse hummed. It wasn't the sharp, discordant clash of yesterday's forge confrontation, nor the suffocating wave of Maren’s grief. This was… deeper. A low thrum, like the Keep itself groaning under its own weight. *Anxiety. North.* Thick and pervasive. *Weariness.* From the hunters returning late, empty-handed again. *Watchfulness.* Thorne’s faction, sharp-eyed and coiled. And beneath it all, a persistent, cold *grief* that hadn’t lessened, just settled into the marrow of the place. *Grief. Finn’s mother. Finn.*I pushed myself up, sw