Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 269: Riding the Moon

Chapter 269: Riding the Moon

Nova’s POV

I woke up feeling like I was riding the moon.

That sounds ridiculous, right? But that’s the only way I can describe it. Light. Floating. Soft. Magical. Like the world had decided, just for a moment, to stop being cruel and complicated, and instead cradle me in the gentle arms of something right.

I opened my eyes slowly, not because I was tired, but because I wanted to savor everything. The scent of pine and something warm and smoky—Eldur’s scent—clung to the room like a spell. The golden morning light filtered through the curtains in ribbons, dancing across his pale walls.

And there he was.

Eldur Daegon.

Sleeping beside me.

His white hair looked like moonlight scattered across the pillow. His arm was still around me, fingers splayed over my waist like he’d been afraid I might vanish in the night. He wasn’t snoring—of course he wasn’t, he’d never do something as normal as snore—but his breathing was soft and even, and I could feel it, every rise and fall, against my back.

I smiled.

Last night, we kissed like the world was ending. Like we were the only two people left. I kissed him like a girl who had no idea how lucky she was. And maybe I didn’t. Because how did someone like me end up with someone like him?

"Are you watching me sleep?" Eldur’s voice was raspy and low, pulling me from my daydream.

"I mean... yeah," I whispered, biting back a grin.

"Obsessed," he mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Admit it, I’m adorable when I’m half-asleep and tangled in your sheets."

He finally opened his eyes—silver, sharp, and somehow soft. "Terrifyingly adorable," he said. "Dangerously cute. A hazard to my sanity."

I giggled and rolled over to face him fully. "You’re weird."

"And you’re mine," he replied, like it was the simplest truth in the universe.

Cue the melting.

An hour later, I was standing in front of Eldur’s full-length mirror in my hoodie and socks, panicking.

"I can’t go to class in this!" I said, gesturing wildly at myself. "I look like I was kidnapped by a sexy elf."

Eldur, still shirtless and infuriatingly unbothered, leaned against his doorframe. "First of all, thank you. Second, I might have a solution."

He disappeared into his closet and returned with—wait for it—an entire outfit. Not just a hoodie or some borrowed sweats. I’m talking full ensemble: jeans, a cream blouse with tiny embroidered moons, a deep green coat, and ankle boots that looked like they cost more than my life.

"Eldur," I breathed, stunned. "These are—this is my size. Even the shoes—how—?"

He scratched the back of his neck and gave me this half-awkward, half-proud smile. "I saw them at a boutique last week and thought of you. So... I got them."

"You bought them? Like... for me? Before we were even officially—?"

"They screamed Nova," he said simply, as if that explained everything.

And maybe it did.

The tags were still on. Everything was pristine. Folded like a gift, because that’s what it was. I was floored. And flattered. And probably seconds away from crying.

"I swear," I whispered, holding the blouse to my chest. "If you keep doing things like this, I’m going to fall stupidly, irreversibly in love with you."

He walked up behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder. "Good. That’s the plan."

Of course, trying to get ready after that was a disaster.

We couldn’t stop kissing. Every time I buttoned something, he was there, stealing another kiss. Every time I pulled on a boot, he knelt beside me like some kind of sinful fairytale prince and kissed my knee.

"You’re distracting," I muttered, swatting at him.

"You’re stunning," he replied.

"Eldur!"

"I’m a very needy boyfriend," he said, utterly shameless.

I was blushing so hard I could’ve melted into the floor.

Eventually, we did make it out of the apartment. Barely. We flagged down a cab, our hands still locked together like gravity wasn’t enough. As we drove, I called Lara.

"Hey, babe, why didn’t you come back last night?" she answered, sounding way too awake for someone who definitely stayed up bingeing true crime documentaries.

"Long story," I said, a little breathless. "Hey, can you bring my Lit books to class? I... uh... didn’t think things through last night."

There was a pause.

Then a shriek.

"NOOOOOO."

I winced and held the phone away from my ear.

"Tell me everything!" she demanded. "Did you guys—? Wait, don’t answer that. Wait—do answer. Wait—Eldur can probably hear me, can’t he?"

I glanced at him. He smirked.

"Yup," I said.

"Ugh. Fine. I’ll bring your books. But we’re talking later. I want details. Like, disgusting levels of detail. You owe me."

"Noted," I said, laughing.

She hung up dramatically, probably already writing fanfiction in her brain.

Class was, as expected, absolute chaos.

I sat next to Eldur, our legs brushing. He looked ridiculously good—dark jeans, a black jacket, that smirk that could ruin empires. And when Lara finally arrived, she dropped her bag beside me and immediately poked her head between us like a nosy cat.

"You both are glowing," she whispered accusingly.

Eldur leaned back, calm as ever. "Nova is my girlfriend now."

Lara blinked.

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yes," he said. "I am currently the happiest person on the face of this pitiful Earth."

My heart did backflips. Lara stared between us, squinting like she couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream.

"Well, damn," she said. "I was not expecting that level of honesty."

"I don’t lie about things that matter," he said simply, sliding his hand over mine beneath the desk.

Lara wiggled her eyebrows at me. I elbowed her. Eldur pretended not to notice.

Everything was absolutely perfect.

Like, cloud-nine, sun-kissed, kiss-stained kind of perfect.

Right up until she walked in.

Amara.

Ugh.

She looked... okay, fine—she looked good. Too good, honestly. Tall, like she was sculpted for magazine covers. Hair that did that thing—you know, the kind of effortless bounce that looks like it came with a wind machine. Perfect teeth. A walk like the hallway was her personal runway. And worst of all?

She had that dangerous type of confidence—the kind that screamed "I get what I want."

And today? She wanted Eldur as always.

She glided into the classroom like she’d been summoned by a spotlight and dramatic music. And then, with all the audacity of a soap opera villain, she slid into the empty seat on Eldur’s other side.

Like it was hers.

Like he was.

"Hey, El," she purred, her voice sweet enough to give someone a sugar crash. "Missed you yesterday. You left the book store without a word, I was so worried."

I stiffened like someone had yanked the warmth out of the room.

Eldur, to his eternal credit, gave her the most apathetic, unimpressed, could-not-care-less grunt in human history. "Mm."

That was it. No eye twinkle. No charming smirk. Just mm.

But then... oh, then, she reached out and laid her perfectly manicured hand on his arm.

Something in me snapped. I didn’t even know I had a primal mode, but apparently, I do. It growled. Loudly.

My entire stomach coiled up like a cornered cat. My face went hot enough to toast bread. I didn’t even want to be the jealous girlfriend, but I was suddenly ready to Google "how to summon a hurricane with your eyes."

I turned sharply toward Eldur, glaring at him like he’d betrayed me by breathing next to her. He blinked at me, confusion blooming across his face like I’d just thrown a chair across the room.

"What?" he asked, deadpan and kind of adorable in a stop being adorable right now way.

And then, as if this wasn’t awkward enough, Amara leaned in closer. Her voice dipped lower, silkier. "I was thinking we should catch up after class—"

"No," Eldur cut in. Just like that. Cold. Flat. Final.

She blinked, visibly thrown. "No?"

"I’m not available," he said simply, like he was reciting the weather. Then, with that eerie Eldur calm, he added, "Nova is my girlfriend."

The room didn’t just go quiet—it went cinematic silence. Like a movie moment when even the background score holds its breath.

Even Lara, who’d been mid-crunch with her protein bar, paused like she’d accidentally bitten into drama.

Amara’s hand recoiled from his arm like it had been electrocuted. "Oh."

"Yeah," Eldur said, and then—because apparently, I was living in a romcom fantasy—he reached across the desk, took my hand like it was made of moonlight, and pressed a soft, show-stopping kiss to my knuckles.

"Very taken," he said smoothly. "Emotionally. Spiritually. Tragically."

I just... stared.

Like a goldfish. With a heartbeat.

Lara full-on snorted, nearly choking on laughter. Amara’s face turned a color I can only describe as "defeated flamingo," and she slowly turned her attention to anything but Eldur. Which, thank you.

And me?

My chest felt like it was glowing.

Not in the cheesy romance novel way. Like... actually glowing. Eldur had just claimed me—loud and proud and completely unbothered by what anyone thought. No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Like I mattered.

Like I was real to him.

The rest of class moved in a weird, half-hushed haze. People whispered. Stared. Shot glances our way like Eldur had just tattooed "Nova Forever" on his forehead. And I should’ve felt awkward or self-conscious.

But all I felt... was seen.

And warm.

And okay, a little smug.

Because while Amara sat there fuming in silence, I had Eldur. His hand, still in mine beneath the table. His soft glances when he thought I wasn’t looking. His faint smirk when my leg bumped his.

Sure, he was weird. Mysterious. Said things like "this pitiful Earth" as if he’d just stepped out of a fantasy novel. Bought me an entire boutique-level outfit out of nowhere. Looked like a villain and kissed like a poem.

But when he looked at me... when he chose me like that, without apology?

I felt like the most important thing in the room.

No.

In the whole damn world.

And maybe I didn’t know every part of him yet. Maybe there were secrets folded behind those silver eyes—stories he hadn’t told, truths I hadn’t earned.

But he was mine.

And I was his.

And honestly?

I could ride this moonlight feeling forever.