CHAPTER THREE.Nova’s POVThe night feels wrong.I don’t know how else to describe it. The desert is supposed to have noise crickets, wind skimming over dry brush, the occasional things. Instead, it’s dead quiet, the kind of silence that prickles my skin and gives me goosebumps.Cassian walks ahead of me, his stride loose but his shoulders are tight, like he’s waiting for something. He hasn’t said much since we left the clubhouse. He doesn’t have to. His shoulders do the talking, tight beneath the leather. His head tips every so often, like he’s catching sounds I can’t.Every instinct in me wants to ask what’s wrong. Every ounce of survival says keep your mouth shut.I hug my arms tighter, staring at his back. He looks untouchable like that, black jacket gleaming faintly under the rising moon, boots crunching over dirt. Untouchable and already half gone, like he is sensing things I can’t.Weird“Stay close,” he says suddenly.I jolt. He hasn’t turned, hasn’t slowed, and the sound of
Last Updated : 2026-01-15
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