Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 296: Losing You

Chapter 296: Losing You

Eldur’s POV

I had just returned to my room after walking Nova back to hers.

The hallway had been quiet, draped in that velvet stillness the castle sometimes carried when everyone had settled into their secrets. She had smiled at me before closing her door—soft, a little sleepy. Her scent still lingered in the air around me, warm like vanilla and firewood. I could still hear her heartbeat in my ears, the soft rhythmic lull that calmed Aethros, who always stirred when she was near.

I collapsed onto my bed and stared at the ceiling, arms folded behind my head. I should have felt peaceful. I didn’t.

Something... wasn’t right.

Aethros growled deep within me, claws scratching at the edges of my consciousness. "She’s not safe."

I sat up instantly.

"What do you mean she’s not safe?" I demanded internally.

But Aethros didn’t speak again.

He howled.

A sound that nearly shattered my skull with its urgency.

I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe. I opened a portal.

The air tore open in front of me, blue and silver threads of magic spinning outward, revealing the inside of Nova’s room—and what I saw on the other side nearly snapped me in two.

Nova.

On the floor.

Her eyes wide. Frozen in fear.

And standing above her, that thing—that vampire—that filth who thought he could look at her, follow her, walk into her room.

He didn’t even have time to turn fully when I stepped through.

"You picked the wrong girl to breathe near," I growled, and with a flick of my hand, my magic caught him mid-motion, wrapping around him like chains forged from nightmares and fury.

He tried to run. Tried.

I slammed him against the far wall with a gesture so violent that the candle flames in the room sputtered. He screamed, a pathetic, high-pitched thing that grated on my nerves.

"You want to stalk someone?" I hissed, walking closer, my silver eyes burning like moons caught on fire. "Stalk. Me."

He thrashed, snarled—and then I tore him apart.

Literally.

With a snap of my fingers and a precise twist of power, his limbs were ripped from his body. Head, arms, legs, torso—each piece suspended in midair. Still alive. Still conscious.

"I could keep you like this for a thousand years," I whispered, voice low, dangerous. "You ever look at her again, I’ll make sure each second of your miserable existence is felt through every separated limb."

I sealed the pieces in an invisible cage of runes and threw him aside like meat gone rotten.

Only then did I turn back to Nova.

And my soul cracked.

She was on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, shaking, her eyes wide and unblinking like glass marbles. Her breath was shallow, quick. Too quick.

"Nova," I breathed, rushing to her. "Nova, sweetheart, look at me."

She didn’t. She couldn’t.

I dropped to my knees and gently gathered her into my arms, cradling her like she was the most fragile piece of porcelain in the world.

Her body was cold. Too cold.

I tucked her against my chest, wrapping my cloak around her and rocking her softly back and forth.

"You’re safe now," I whispered. "I swear it. He’s gone. He can’t hurt you. He won’t touch you. Never again."

Her hand trembled against my chest. And then I saw it—the scratch. A thin, angry line just above her wrist.

My fury boiled again.

But I focused. I placed my hand gently over the wound and whispered the healing incantation. Light spilled from my fingers like moonwater, and the scratch disappeared. I kissed her hand and held it close.

Her lips parted slightly, a breath slipping out. I brushed her hair back, kissed her forehead, and kept whispering, "It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here. I’ll always be here."

Then—

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Footsteps. Thunderous. Precise. Too fast to be anyone but my parents.

The door slammed open as if the hinges had personally offended my mother. She stepped through first, cloaked in fury, her brown eyes glowing like molten sunfire, twin daggers already humming with ancient energy in her fists. Behind her came my father—slower, quieter. But somehow even more dangerous. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees the moment he entered. His presence was like a shadow from the underworld, silent and deadly.

"What happened?" my mother snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. Her eyes scanned the carnage: the hovering pieces of a vampire torn apart mid-air, the splashes of blood that painted the walls, and me—on the floor, cradling Nova like the last fragile thing I’d ever hold.

"She was attacked," I ground out through clenched teeth. "He’s been watching her. Following her. I didn’t realize until—Aethros felt it. Just in time."

Dad’s usually calm expression cracked ever so slightly, his jaw twitching. His gaze slid to the twitching pieces of vampire, and his eyes went blank—utterly void of mercy.

"Is he new here?" Mom hissed.

I shook my head. "I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before."

Dad strode toward the floating remains like he was strolling through a garden. He stopped in front of the vampire’s semi-conscious head—one eye still blinking in confusion, lips muttering something desperate.

My father’s voice came like a breath of winter. Soft. Too soft.

"You frightened my son’s mate."

"I’m oka—" Nova began, but her voice cracked like brittle glass. I tightened my grip around her.

Dad’s eyes flickered. The barest flash of fang showed in his teeth.

"You are not, child. Don’t lie to spare me. You were under my protection. And I failed you."

He raised a hand.

A single, graceful motion.

The vampire’s remains began to tremble—then shudder violently, as if every piece was screaming without sound. I looked away. Even I couldn’t stomach what came next.

And then—nothing. No explosion. No flame. No lingering shadow.

Just... absence.

The vampire was gone. Wiped from existence. Like he had never been there at all.

Only silence remained.

Mom knelt beside me, her fury replaced by something far gentler. She reached out, resting her hand against Nova’s trembling back, her voice barely more than a breath, soft and strange in its tenderness. "You’re safe now, darling. We’re here. No one’s going to touch you again. Ever."

Nova whimpered, pressing her face into my chest like she was trying to disappear inside me. I held her tighter, burying my nose in her hair.

"She’s in shock," I said quietly. "She’s not talking. She barely blinks."

Dad frowned. "She needs rest. But more than that—" His eyes flicked to me, glowing faintly red. "—she needs to understand who we are. What it means to be with one of us."

And then, from somewhere deep within the blanket of silence, came Nova’s voice—small and fragile, like the rustle of leaves in winter.

"Eldur... I want to go home."

I didn’t hesitate.

No arguments. No waiting.

Right then and there, with her still in my arms, I called on my fire. A portal sparked open beside us, swirling with crimson and gold embers. I stepped through it without another word, carrying Nova straight into the warmth of my apartment.

We left everything behind—our bags, the vacation, the bloody wreck of what was meant to be a peaceful trip.

And just like that, the world narrowed to the four walls of my living room, and the silence that followed us home.

**********

The next day, Nova didn’t say much.

The day after that, even less.

She wasn’t cold—not exactly. But something inside her had curled inward, guarded and tight. She didn’t flinch away from my touch, didn’t move when I held her. But the warmth I’d come to know? That spark that made her Nova?

It was hiding.

For a whole week, she barely left the couch. Wrapped in one of my hoodies, knees pulled up to her chest, she stared at the TV without watching it. She refused to eat unless I reminded her. She didn’t want to go outside. Not even when I offered to fly her anywhere. Mountains. Forests. The stars. She’d just whisper, "No. Not today."

We were on break from school—an entire month off—but with one week left before it resumed, it was like the walls were closing in. We were trapped in that apartment. And not by the space.

But by the silence.

I tried. Gods, I tried.

"Nova," I said one night, sitting beside her on the couch, "please talk to me. You’re not okay. And I get it. What happened was—awful. But you don’t have to go through this alone."

Her eyes slid to me, unreadable.

"I’m not alone," she said. "You’re here."

"Then why," I asked gently, "does it feel like I’m losing you?"

She looked away.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, heart pounding.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No," she whispered. "You saved me."

"Then what is it? Let me in, Nova. Whatever it is—you can tell me. I’ll listen. I want to listen."

A long pause. Her lips parted, then closed again.

"I’m just... not ready," she said finally. "I don’t know how to say it yet."

That night, she fell asleep on the couch, curled in a blanket, her face turned to the window. I stayed up beside her, watching the stars, wondering how to reach her.

And what it would take to bring her back to me.

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