Jax knew he shouldn't follow her. He was Gamma — he had responsibilities, protocol, an entire list of reasons not to trail after a girl like a lovesick teenager.
But Nova wasn't just a girl.
And Jax had never been particularly good at following rules.
So he stayed in the shadows, moving along the upper corridor until he saw her slip into the tower library — Aeron's domain, tucked behind old wards and runic etchings no one but a mage could decode.
Jax pressed beside the door, careful not to breathe too loudly.
Inside, Aeron's voice drifted out — clipped, precise, effortlessly condescending.
"Did you get the book?"
Nova's soft voice followed. "Yes. But it's written in a language older than Lunaglyphs. I… tried to read it."
Aeron made a noise that was halfway between a sigh and an exasperated laugh.
"Of course you did. Why resist temptation when you can sprint directly into possible eldritch doom?"
Pages shuffled. Chairs scraped.
"Well?" Aeron prompted.
"Show me how far you got before you accidentally summoned something we aren't equipped to negotiate with."
Silence.
Then a soft shhh — pages turning.
Jax leaned just enough to see her. Her eyes shifted — green to molten silver.
Her hair brightened — pale to luminous, shimmering in waves like starlight turned liquid.
And then she began to read.
It wasn't a human language. It was older. Wilder.
Her voice deepened, layered — her but not her.
Magic crawled across the air.
Aeron shot forward instantly and slammed the book shut with enough force to shake dust from the rafters.
Nova looked up blinking.
Aeron held the book away from her like it might detonate.
"We are NOT doing that," he said sharply.
"Not today. Not without wards. Not without supervision. And certainly not before I've eaten."
"I don't… know how I knew that," she whispered, cheeks pink.
Nova blinked, cheeks flushing. "I don't know how I knew that. It just… happened."
Aeron pinched the bridge of his nose — the universal sign of a man whose day had been personally targeted.
"Yes, that's the part I find concerning. People don't usually pick up dead languages the way they pick up hobbies."
A beat.
"Next time you feel compelled to recite forgotten prophecy, please — do us all a favor — don't."
She nodded quickly. "Okay."
He lowered the book but didn't release it.
"Listen carefully, Nova. If you find another tome like this, do not open it. Don't touch it. Don't look at it long enough for it to look back."
He pointed at her.
"Bring it to me. I enjoy being alive. I assume you do too."
Nova quieted. "When I read it… it felt like something else stepped forward. I was aware, but it wasn't me. I was watching from somewhere deeper."
Aeron stopped. Really stopped.
His mind worked behind his eyes, sharp and furious and brilliant.
"…Fantastic."
He muttered.
"Possession-adjacent magic. My favorite."
Nova swallowed. "Aeron… have you ever met a shifter who has both magic and a wolf?"
Aeron barked a laugh.
"No. And if I had, my job would be significantly more interesting and significantly more terrifying."
He set the book aside — carefully, reverently, like it might bite.
Then he asked, voice flattening with clinical interest:
"Have you shifted?"
Nova nodded. "Once. Years ago. But after the silver… I think she faded."
Aeron stared at her for a long moment.
Then, deadpan:
"If your wolf had died, you'd be a corpse. And since you're not currently decomposing on my floor, congratulations — she's alive."
Nova's breath shuddered.
Aeron's tone softened — only slightly, but enough to matter.
"She's not gone, Nova. She's injured. Dormant. Recovering from the kind of torture that would have broken most wolves permanently."
Nova looked down. "So… she's still there?"
Aeron folded his arms, leaning against the desk with irritated affection.
"Yes. And she'll wake when she's damn well ready. Wolves are dramatic that way."
Nova's lips twitched — almost a smile.
Aeron continued, leveling a finger at her again:
"But until she does, stop doing impressive and horrifying things without warning me. My heart can only handle so much."
Jax stepped back into the hall, running a hand through his hair like he could shake off what he'd just witnessed.
"Great," he muttered under his breath."She glows, speaks dead languages, and might be a walking prophecy. And I'm catching feelings. Fantastic. Truly excellent life choices, Jax."
His heart hammered anyway.
He slipped down the corridor before he did something stupider — like go back inside.