Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 263: A Night Together

Chapter 263: A Night Together

Eldur’s POV

It started with a whisper.

A whisper in my head that wouldn’t shut up the moment she said yes.

"Yes, I’ll stay over."

Nova didn’t realize it, but she’d just agreed to sleep in the house of a werewolf-wizard hybrid who had accidentally once melted a stone wall in his sleep. And now she was going to see where I lived. Not visit—sleep there. Overnight. In the same space. With me.

And I was panicking.

But not externally, of course. No. On the outside, I was very much Eldur: calm, collected, smirking with just the right amount of arrogance.

On the inside? I was a grenade rolling down a spiral staircase.

I dropped her off at 24 hours store close to my apartment, to grab a few essentials—still pretending I wasn’t secretly timing how long it would take to hide everything in my house that screamed "rich supernatural freak who’s bad at emotions."

Back at my place, I stood in the middle of my sleek, absurdly lavish living room. The place was too clean. Too cold. Too Eldur’s parents wanted this to look like an overpriced hotel. Everything gleamed: black marble counters, glowing fireplace, actual crystal chandeliers like I lived in a museum of "things you can’t afford."

Nova would take one look and run. Or worse—she’d smile politely and pull away. I’d seen it before. The wall. That polite, casual distance when people found out how much easier life was for me. I hated it.

So I did what I do best.

I cheated.

With a flick of my fingers and a low mutter of spells, the magic rippled outward. The chandelier cracked, morphing into a cheap paper lantern. The marble morphed into laminated countertops with coffee stains I actually created with magic. I threw a bunch of "student" stuff around—crumpled papers, textbooks on Literature in English and sociology (which I absolutely did not understand), and even an empty ramen packet peeking out of a trash can I conjured purely for aesthetic struggle.

Perfect.

The knock came.

My breath hitched. Why?

Because Nova was on the other side.

I opened the door like I hadn’t just magically overhauled my entire life. She stood there with a small overnight bag, hair messy from the wind, wearing my oversized Jacket that I had draped over her earlier.

"You actually live here?" she said, walking past me into my magically transformed apartment.

"Don’t sound so surprised."

"No, I mean—it’s just... kinda cozy. And lived-in." She sniffed the air. "Smells like... burnt lavender?"

I blinked. "That’s my attempt at ambiance. Don’t judge."

She laughed, spinning slowly in the middle of my living room, eyes scanning the room like a kid in a candy store. "Eldur, this is cute. Like, actual human-cute. I didn’t know you had it in you."

"Believe it or not, I’m not entirely soulless."

She snorted. "Debatable."

I made us ramen. Real ramen. Boiled water, noodles, powdered seasoning—the works. Nova seemed impressed. I was impressed I didn’t accidentally summon a fire elemental.

We sat on the floor in front of the TV—because of course I made sure the couch "looked" broken—and watched a movie I didn’t pay attention to. I couldn’t. Not when she kept leaning against me like it was normal. Like my shoulder was her favorite place to be.

"I should shower," she said after the second movie, stretching in a way that almost gave me a heart attack.

"There’s a clean towel on the rack. And... uh, there might be some spare shirts in the drawer," I said, trying to keep my voice level.

"Wow, planning ahead. That’s either thoughtful or suspicious."

"Let’s call it...instinct."

She disappeared into the bathroom. I nearly collapsed on the floor.

When she returned, her wet hair clinging to her neck and one of my old oversized shirts hanging just above her knees—I forgot how to function as a person.

"Better?" I asked, clearing my throat.

"Much," she said, plopping onto the bed, then she tapped the mattress with one hand gesturing for me to come join her.

I blinked.

"I thought you were taking the bed," I said cautiously.

She rolled her eyes. "We’re adults. I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed. Just... no funny business."

"Funny business?" I tried to smirk, but it came out like a wounded gargoyle. "I don’t even know how to be funny."

"Good. Stay that way."

She yawned, pulling the blanket over herself. I hovered awkwardly near the bed.

"Eldur."

"Yes?"

"Come to bed. You look like you’re about to file a restraining order against your own furniture."

I chuckled and carefully slid in beside her, staying rigid, not daring to breathe too loudly. But then she shifted. Rolled over. And tucked her head into my chest.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I couldn’t move.

I could barely think.

Her breath was warm against my shirt. Her fingers curled softly against my side. I finally—finally—wrapped my arm around her, gently, scared to scare her away.

This was it.

The happiest I’d ever been. And no portal, spell, or ancient relic could ever touch it.

She let out a soft sigh, muttering something unintelligible before curling even closer against me.

I closed my eyes, sinking into the moment—the aching sweetness of holding someone who didn’t see the wreckage inside me. Someone who didn’t flinch at my silver eyes or the darkness coiled beneath my skin. With her in my arms, I almost believed I was just... human.

"Isn’t she the most beautiful girl you’ve ever laid eyes on, Eldur?"

A voice sliced through my thoughts like a blade wrapped in velvet.

My heart slammed against my chest. I shot upright so fast the room tilted and swayed, a wave of dizziness crashing over me. But somehow, Nova didn’t stir—still nestled against the blankets, her face calm, unaware.

"Who said that?" I whispered, eyes darting around the dim room. But there was no reply. Just silence.

I waited. Seconds. A full minute. Nothing.

"Say something," I muttered, a little louder this time. "Who are you?"

The room was completely silent except for Nova’s soft breathing.

I rubbed my temples, heart still thundering. Maybe it was nothing. Just exhaustion. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. Yeah, that had to be it.

With a shaky breath, I slid back under the blanket, carefully wrapping my arms around Nova once more. Her warmth grounded me.

Still, part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—had spoken. And it knew her name.

*********

I woke up before the sun even thought about rising.

The world was still and quiet. And Nova... was still in my arms.

I didn’t move. Didn’t even blink for a while. Just watched her like she might disappear if I looked away. Her thick curls brushed softly against my chin, and her lips were parted in sleep, barely breathing out the softest rhythm. Her face was peaceful—unbothered. Like nothing in the world could touch her here.

It was the calmest thing I’d ever seen.

Eventually, she stirred. A small stretch, a yawn muffled into her shoulder. Then she froze.

I kept my eyes closed, playing dead, unsure why. Maybe I was afraid of breaking whatever this moment was. Or maybe I didn’t want to see her eyes when she realized where she was—and who she was with.

I felt her pull away gently, careful not to wake me. She slipped out of bed with quiet precision, gathering her things like she’d done this before. Like she already knew how to leave.

But I could hear it—her heartbeat, uneven and fast. Her breath caught like she didn’t trust it not to give her away.

"Nova?" I said, my voice low and gravelly with sleep.

She jumped. "Oh—sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you."

"You didn’t." I sat up slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. "You’re leaving?"

She gave a quick nod, eyes locked on the floor. "I just figured I should head back. You know—change, get ready for class."

"Right." I paused, searching her face. "Did... I do something wrong?"

Her eyes met mine for the briefest second, something unreadable flashing through them. Then she forced a small, tight smile. "No. You were... really sweet, actually. Last night was... thanks."

Sweet. She said it like a compliment, but it landed heavy. Distant. Like she was putting something back into a box.

Something was off. I could feel it like static in the air, humming between us.

Before I could say anything else, she was already by the door. "I’ll see you in class, okay?"

I nodded, but it felt robotic. "Okay."

Then the door clicked shut behind her.

And I was alone again.

I stared at the door for a long time, my brain looping the night over and over. Where had I gone wrong? Was it the cuddling? Did I hold her too close? Did I say too much? Was I too much?

I glanced down at my shirt—still creased from where she’d curled up against me hours ago.

I didn’t have answers.

But I knew one thing for sure:

I didn’t want her to leave like that again.

Not when, whenever she was with me...

I didn’t feel like a monster.