Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 298: An Infection

Chapter 298: An Infection

Eldur’s POV

I should have known. I should have felt it.

The moment Nova showed me that mark, I knew I’d failed her. Not just as the reckless bastard who fell in love with a human girl he should’ve kept far away from his cursed world... but as her protector.

I’d missed it.

That night—the night the vampire came out of nowhere—I thought I’d fixed everything. I remember holding her close, her body trembling while I growled like some wild beast, dragging healing magic straight from my core and stitching her wounds shut. I combed over every inch of her, or so I believed. But I missed one. One tiny damn scratch. That was all it took.

A shallow graze hidden behind her shoulder blade.

And now it was pulsing. Infecting.

I couldn’t even breathe.

Nova was still trembling, standing beside me in her oversized hoodie, her fingers twisting nervously in the hem. I didn’t let the panic show. I smiled at her—soft, warm, everything I was not—but inside, Aethros, howled with fury.

"She’s going to die if you don’t move."

That voice in my head—low, calm, and cold as steel. My father’s voice. Not the one that scolded or soothed, but the one that surfaced when instincts kicked in. The one buried in my bones, even if his blood wasn’t in my veins.

I didn’t hesitate. Swallowed the fear clawing up my throat and raised my hand.

The air split with a sound like tearing silk and static. A crack of energy rippled outward, expanding into a shimmering blue portal. Light spilled out—cool and unearthly—revealing an ancient stone hallway lined with golden sconces that flickered like old memories.

Nova flinched beside me, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Eldur, are you sure nothing’s wrong with me?"

I tried for a smile. Failed hard.

"It’s going to be fine," I said gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "We’re going to my parents’ place. They’ll know what to do. Just... trust me, okay?"

"Uh—okay..."

She barely got the word out before I scooped her up like she was made of feathers (and honestly, she kind of was). I stepped through the portal without looking back.

The moment we emerged, the icy air of the northern mountains rushed over us, crisp and biting. We stood in the grand hallway of my father’s castle—right outside his bedroom door. Because subtlety isn’t really in my toolkit when someone I love is slipping away.

I didn’t bother with manners. I pounded on that heavy oak door like I was trying to wake the dead.

"Dad! Mom! Open up—now!"

Nova clung to my arm, eyes wide. "Eldur... you don’t have to knock so hard. I-I’m okay, really—"

But before I could say a word, the door creaked open.

My father stood there. Shirt half-unbuttoned, long black hair loose around his shoulders, looking like a storm frozen in human form—elegant, unreadable, and terrifying in that way he always was. Eternal youth never looked so severe.

Mom was beside him, red silk robe cinched tight, her brown eyes razor-sharp, assessing everything in a blink.

They looked at me. Then Nova. Then back to me.

I swallowed hard. My voice cracked—traitorous, raw.

"Please," I said. "Just look at her."

They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t need to.

Mom stepped forward first, her fingers gentle as she turned Nova around. Dad’s eyes darkened instantly when the mark was revealed—raw, glowing faintly, pulsing in rhythm with Nova’s heartbeat.

My mother’s lips parted in shock—but she caught herself. Nova was already scared. Panicking. She couldn’t see fear on their faces.

"Ah," mom said smoothly, smiling like it was no big deal. "Just a scratch. Probably just bruised tissue reacting to residual magic. Nothing serious."

Dad nodded slowly. "You’ve been under stress, Nova. It happens. Rest and a few doses of a special tonic, and you’ll be just fine."

Nova turned, her face pale. "So... I’m not turning into a vampire or anything, right?"

They both laughed, and I hated how well they lied.

"A vampire?" Mom chuckled. "Sweetheart, if turning into a vampire was that easy, high school would be full of them. You’re perfectly normal."

Nova gave a shaky laugh. "Oh, good. Because I really don’t think I could pull off fangs. I have a small mouth."

Mom smiled and brushed her hair gently. "You’d be surprised how good you’d look in black, though."

Nova blushed. I wanted to scream.

"Let’s get you lying down," Dad said, voice calm but clipped. "We’ll have some warm tea brought in. Juliette, love, grab the tonic."

Nova gave a small nod, dazed, and followed them into the room like her legs were moving on memory alone.

I didn’t move.

Not yet.

Then I heard it—my father’s voice in my mind, cutting through the noise like a blade.

"Eldur."

I turned, just a fraction. His eyes locked with mine, and whatever warmth had been there a second ago? Gone. Wiped clean.

"She shouldn’t be alive."

The words hit me like a punch to the ribs.

"What?"

My breath stalled. My heart felt like it skipped a beat, then came back swinging.

"That’s a vampire infection," he said, his voice only in my head now. "One of the old strains. The kind that spreads like wildfire—kills a human in three days. Or worse, turns them. But something’s slowing it down in her. Holding it back. And it’s not medicine."

"Her immune system?" I asked through the link, grasping for something logical.

He paused. Then: "Maybe. Or maybe it’s her. There’s something in Nova, something different. Untouched. Not human. I don’t know what it is yet. But I will."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat thick as stone.

This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t just a bite. This was something else entirely.

"The vampire that bit her..." I started, voice thick with suspicion. "It wasn’t random, was it?"

My dad’s jaw tightened. His whole demeanor shifted—warrior mode.

"No. Someone sent it. And they didn’t miss their mark. This wasn’t a slip-up. They were aiming for you... or for your mother and me. Whoever they are, they knew exactly what they were doing. This was personal."

My hands curled into fists before I realized it, claws just beneath the surface, straining to break free.

Rage burned in my chest, guilt swirling just beneath it.

I had let my guard down. I had let her get too close to my world without preparing for the consequences.

And now... someone had used Nova as a message.

A weapon.

A warning.

Mom returned with the tonic—a shimmering amber liquid that looked like bottled sunlight—held in a delicate glass vial that clinked softly in her hand. She knelt beside the bed, steady and gentle, helping Nova sip it as she curled deeper into the plush blankets, her body sinking like it finally knew it was safe.

Nova’s eyes fluttered halfway shut, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Still think I’m just a regular girl with a tragic backstory?"

I leaned in, brushing a thumb along her cheekbone, where the faintest warmth still lingered.

"You?" I said, soft and low. "You’re not regular. You’re completely ridiculous."

One corner of her mouth twitched into a sleepy smirk.

"You talk in your sleep," I went on. "You dump absurd amounts of cinnamon into your oatmeal. You keep trying to pet stray cats that are obviously possessed. Like, glowing-eyes-hissing-in-Latin kind of possessed."

Her smile deepened, barely there, but glowing all the same.

"You love all that about me, though."

And stars help me... I did.

I loved every strange, chaotic, infuriating, beautiful piece of her.

I bent low, brushing a kiss to her forehead.

"I love all of it," I whispered. "Even the dangerous parts."

She cracked a half-smile, eyes heavy. "Even the cat possession?"

"Especially that."

A soft, tired laugh escaped her lips—and then she was out. Asleep.

I stayed there for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall, slow and steady like waves against the shore. Fragile, but alive. And right now, that was enough.

Mom’s hand came to rest gently on my shoulder. Warm. Reassuring.

"We’ll figure this out," she said quietly.

Across the room, Dad stood like a sentinel—arms crossed, gaze never leaving Nova.

"But until we do," he said, voice like stone, "she stays here. You both do. And we train. Next time a spy vampire—or anything worse—comes through that door, they won’t find us undefended."

I nodded, my jaw tight enough to ache.

Because I wasn’t going anywhere.

Not this time.

No more slip-ups.

No more threats I didn’t see coming.

No more almosts.

I dragged a chair to her bedside and dropped into it, elbows on my knees, eyes fixed on her like she might disappear the second I looked away.

The mark on her back was still glowing—faint but steady, like a pulse beneath the skin. I didn’t fear it anymore.

Because whatever was inside her—whatever ancient power had decided to wake up—I was ready to face it head on.

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