Semua Bab Mated To My Stepbrother : Bab 41 - Bab 47

Novah’s POV “I’m not going to tell anyone,” I blurted out, the words tumbling over each other. My voice sounded too loud in the quiet room. “I swear. I know… I know it was a mistake. My fault. I shouldn’t have… been here. Like this.” I gestured weakly at my pajamas, my messy hair, my tear-streaked face. Proof of my vulnerability. Proof of my weakness. An easy target. Always.A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It wasn’t your fault.” The words were clipped. “Don’t say that.”But it *felt* like my fault. Everything bad felt like my fault. Mom dying. Dad hating me. Being weak. Being an omega no one wanted. Drawing Ashton’s attention only for him to regret it. The tears welled up again, hot and insistent. I blinked furiously, trying to hold them back. Crying was weak. Omegas cried. Strong people didn’t. Loveth never cried. She made others cry.“Then whose fault is it?” The question slipped out, small and trembling. A stupid question. A shallow question. But it was all my muddled brain could gra

Novah's POVThe library’s quiet usually wrapped around me like a worn, familiar blanket. Dust motes danced in the weak afternoon sunlight slanting through the high windows, and the scent of old paper and binding glue was a constant, almost comforting presence. Today, though, the silence felt brittle. Like the air before a thunderstorm, thick and charged, pressing down on my lungs. Every rustle of a page, every creak of a chair, felt amplified, intrusive. My fingers traced the same line in my biology textbook for the tenth time, the words swimming meaninglessly before my eyes.*He kissed me. He doesn’t want Loveth. Dangerous. Secret.*The thoughts looped, shallow and persistent, like water circling a drain. No depth, just the same terrifying, exhilarating facts. My stomach churned, a mixture of lingering warmth from the memory and the icy dread of discovery. I kept my head down, my shoulders hunched, trying to make myself invisible against the tall bookshelf. The pack feeling hummed ar

Novah's POVThe hallway air felt thick, like walking through warm syrup. Every sound – locker slams, laughter bouncing off the tiles, the squeak of sneakers – echoed too loud, pressing against my ears. The pack’s awareness was a physical weight, a thousand invisible eyes scraping over my skin. Loveth’s words – *I know. He’s mine. Weak little omega.* – were a looped recording in my head, each repetition tightening the knot of panic in my chest. I kept my head down, shoulders hunched, trying to fold myself smaller, less noticeable. A ghost. That’s all I should be. Why couldn’t I just *be* a ghost?Ashton had texted. Just a location and a time. The old supply shed behind the gym. Isolated. Shadowed. Perfect for secrets, maybe too perfect for… other things. My fingers trembled against my phone screen. What if Loveth followed? What if someone *saw*? The pack thrived on gossip, especially gossip about an omega daring to… what? Exist near the heir? Hope felt like a dangerous, foolish thing n