Fin and Aeron were mid-conversation as they crossed the second-floor walkway of the library, passing beneath towering shelves, when Fin stopped.
Like someone had yanked an invisible chain.
Aeron took two more steps before realizing Fin was no longer beside him. He turned, brows lifting. Fin looked… off. Rigid posture, jaw clenched, eyes fixed ahead with the kind of focus a man uses when wrestling a wolf inside his own skin.
A single bead of sweat slid down Fin's temple.
Aeron blinked. "…What—"
There was no one in front of Fin or in their direct line of sight.
Aeron glanced over the railing. She stood in the one slanted beam pouring from the high window, as if the library itself had decided to spotlight her.
Aeron glanced back at Fin, curious whether the Alpha could scent her from this distance. He didn't have a wolf himself, but he'd seen wolves pick up faint traces before.
But not like this.
Fin had gone rigid. Stone-still. A tightness braced across his shoulders, jaw clenched hard enough to crack teeth.
Aeron's brows lifted.
Curiosity flickered.
Then it vanished — replaced by a quiet, internal holy hell dawning across his face.
A scholar recognizing a pattern.
A mage seeing stars align.
He blinked once. Slowly.
Fin didn't notice in the slightest.
His head snapped toward the lower floor, gaze locking onto Nova with frightening precision — like someone had hooked invisible strings into his sternum and pulled.
And then he moved.
Down the stairs.
Controlled strides that weren't as controlled as he wanted them to be.
His eyes never leaving her.
Not once.
Aeron followed at a measured pace, the corners of his mouth twitching in mild, entertained disbelief.
"Nova?" Aeron called lightly as they reached the steps. "Aren't you supposed to be in the dining hall?"
He paused, reconsidered, then added dryly, "No — right. You probably don't want to be poisoned again."
Fin broke whatever internal battle he'd been waging just to throw Aeron a sharp, murderous look.
Aeron shrugged. "What? Too soon?"
But Nova didn't react to either of them.
She didn't blink.
Didn't turn.
Didn't seem to hear.
She stood in her navy cloak, silver hair spilling down her back, eyes glowing like liquid moonlight.
Fin's breath hitched.
She didn't move.
Aeron turned to the old librarian, voice clipped. "How long has she been doing… that?"
"A few minutes," the man whispered. "But you just missed what she did before."
Aeron's eyes narrowed. "What'd she do?"
"She jumped floors," the librarian said. "From the balcony. Landed without a sound."
Aeron blinked once.
"…Right. Of course she did."
"And then," the librarian added, voice shaking, "she made the walls glow."
Aeron stared at him, then exhaled through his nose. "Fantastic. She's doing architecture now."
He adjusted his satchel with a resigned sigh.
"At least she didn't set anything on fire. Small blessings."
Aeron tilted his head at Nova.
"What are you looking for, Nova?"
She didn't react.
But then, somewhere behind them, a grandfather clock chimed.
Aeron's gaze snapped toward it. "That was not here this morning."
Fin's eyes cut to the clock as well — cold, focused, predatory.
The librarian breathed one trembling word.
"Moonveil."
Before either of them could respond, Nova spoke — not in common tongue, but in a language older than the stones themselves. The picture frame she was staring at flared with ancient runes and swung open like a hidden door.
Aeron didn't hesitate. "Grab her."
Nova blurred forward at Alpha speed — but Fin was faster. He caught her around the waist just as she launched into the opening. She twisted, frustrated, eyes glowing brighter.
She looked furious.
She looked determined.
She looked… adorable.
Fin felt all of it crackle down the matebond like electricity.
Aeron lifted his hands — gold light flashing across his palms. He scanned the portrait with practiced precision.
"No dark magic that I can sense," he announced. "You can let her go."
Fin released her.
She vanished down the tunnel in a streak of motion.
Aeron blinked after her. "Nova, you are taking years off my life," he muttered — equal parts amused, exasperated, and scolding.
Fin glanced at the librarian — who was not shocked in the slightest that Nova moved like an Alpha. Interesting. Troubling. Noted.
Aeron stepped toward the portrait. "I'll handle this," he said, turning to crawl inside.
He didn't get the chance.
Fin was already gone — a shadow of speed — down the tunnel before Aeron had even finished the sentence.
Aeron stared at the empty space where the Alpha had been.
"…Right," he sighed. "Let's all ignore the man who solves magic puzzles for a living."
And then he followed.
Fin stepped through the portrait and onto the other side — and immediately locked onto Nova. He fought the urge to grab her again. For her protection, of course. But he wanted her back in his arms, and that alone made something in him snarl.
Why did he like chasing her?
Why the hell was he amused?
This was concerning. Irrational. Dangerous.
He shouldn't enjoy this.
What is wrong with me?
He took a steadying breath.
Mistake.
Her scent hit him again, clean and bright and maddening, and something low in his chest tightened.
He shook his head sharply, forcing the fog away.
He shoved the thought aside, rolled his shoulders back, and reminded himself who he was — an Alpha.
That's when he noticed the room.
"What the…" his breath caught. The words died in his throat.
A massive chamber opened before him — cavernous, shimmering, impossible.
Mountains of gold coins spilled across the floor. Heaps of jewels glowed in every color. Ancient relics — crowns, blades, scroll cases, armor — lay stacked in sacred, chaotic abundance.
It looked like a dragon hoard.
Or a forgotten palace treasury.
Or a myth swallowed whole and buried under the castle.
The portrait swung shut behind Aeron with a soft thud. The mage dusted off his cloak like he'd merely stepped through a mildly inconvenient doorway.
"What—" Aeron began to say.
Nova's fingers twitched. Her breath hitched. Her body leaned forward as if pulled by invisible thread. Fin felt it through the bond like a sudden jolt up his spine.
She was fighting something.
His instincts surged, and he moved without thought. His arm hooked around her waist.
At the same time, Aeron snapped sharply, "Don't let her touch anything."
A pulse of cold swept across the room.
Aeron began chanting, gold light flared on his hands. Dark shadows peeled themselves from ancient relics as Aeron lifted a hand and pulled dark magic out of the air like extracting poison.
The room hummed. Then it quieted.
Aeron flicked his fingers once. "Alright. You can let her go. Carefully. Avoiding explosions would be ideal."
Fin released her slowly — reluctantly — ready to grab her again.
Nova drifted forward in a blur and stopped before a small black box half-buried in the gold. It was plain — insultingly plain — compared to the jeweled crowns and relics around it.
Of course that was the one she touched.
Her fingers brushed the lid. The world detonated into white. The hoard vanished — swallowed whole by the flash — until nothing remained except the box in her hands.
A portal shimmered open in the center of the room, humming like it had been waiting for her all along.
Expressionless, Nova turned and stepped through without hesitation.
Fin was already behind her before he realized he'd moved. His wolf was a storm under his skin.
Aeron released a long, put-upon sigh and followed.
"Well," he muttered, "at least this portal had the decency to deposit us somewhere that won't collapse on our heads."
They crossed the threshold.
The instant all three of them were through, the portal snapped shut with a crack, sealing the hidden room as if it had never existed.
They stood again in the library — no treasure, no glow, no trace of the impossible chamber.
The old librarian stared at them, mouth hanging open, spectacles halfway down his nose like they'd just stepped out of thin air.
Aeron gave him a cheerful nod.
"Afternoon," he said. "Please pretend none of that happened."
Nova's eyes were glowing silver and fixed on Fin.
His stomach dropped and fluttered at the same time.
He should have looked away.
He didn't.
She lifted the small black box and extended it toward him.
Fin's voice came out softer than he intended.
"…Is this for me?"
Aeron noticed the tone.
The librarian noticed the tone.
Finric did not.
Nova didn't answer — but he already felt the truth humming through the matebond, steady as a heartbeat. It was meant for him. Chosen for him.
Fin reached out.
The moment his fingers brushed hers, that electric spark shot through him — the one he'd pretended not to feel since the day he met her. It jolted up his arm, wrapped around his spine. He ignored it with all the failing discipline of a dying man.
His eyes never left hers.
He curled his hand around the box.
A pulse of something ancient rolled across his senses — old magic, older blood, a pull that felt like recognition.
Nova blinked.
Her irises settled back to their usual green.
She seemed to wake all at once, realizing she was touching him, offering him something she had no memory of picking up. She withdrew her hand quickly, dazed and breathing unsteadily.
Fin still couldn't look away.
She felt a sensation like a memory trying to surface, a heat inside of her but she couldn't remember. Fin felt it too.
Confusion moved across her face. Aeron meanwhile was watching her reaction with amusement.
"You were possessed. Or entranced. Again," Aeron announced dryly, as if reporting the weather.
He clapped once, brisk and impatient.
"And," he added, voice dripping casual cruelty, "shouldn't you be halfway to Shard's remedial class for the dumb? You have a test. Which — shockingly, truly shockingly — you are now late for."
Nova stiffened, a full-body jolt of realization hitting her.
"Time to be told you're illiterate again," Aeron said, clapping his hands a second time. "Chop-chop. Off you go."
"Yes, please excuse me," she said, face a little flushed as she moved quickly toward the exit.
Fin felt her blush through their matebond. Gods she was adorable.
He also felt a tinge of self-directed frustration through the bond — a warm pulse, sharp and misplaced. Like she thought she'd lost track of time irresponsibly. Like she should've been able to stop whatever just happened
But he knew she couldn't have. He wanted to tell her that. He fought the urge to go after her. He wanted to touch her again. He wanted to chase her again. It wasn't just his wolf. He wanted it.
Aeron exhaled, looking at the empty air where the treasure room had been. "Of all the priceless artifacts in there, she picked the smallest box not made of gold. It better contain something truly spectacular, otherwise I'm filing a complaint with the Moon Goddess."
Fin finally opened the box.
He froze.
Inside lay his father's ring and cufflinks.
He swallowed, breath catching as the gold glinted — painfully familiar. The cufflinks, carved in the old Shadowclaw style with the pack's crest, had been passed down for generations. Lost the day his father died.
The ring was gold. Simple. Regal.
His father had worn it every day of his life.
Its counterpart — his mother's ring — sat locked away in Fin's drawer, untouched since the day she died when he was a child.
The inscription inside caught the light, and Fin's breath hitched.
That ancient script…
His mother's ring carried the same markings.
A matched set.
Passed down through generations.
Forged to endure even if an Alpha or Luna shifted — a blessing woven into the gold.
When his father fell in battle, his body had been recovered.
But the ring had not.
Fin had long assumed it was lost.
He swallowed hard, emotion bubbling up before he could brace against it.
It was here.
In his hands.
"This was my father's." Fin said, voice cracking.
Aeron's expression shifted — for once, softening.
"Well," he said quietly, "then she picked the right treasure."