1
NOVA
Swaying my hips to the pounding beat, I closed my eyes and tried to justfeel. Tried to let the bass smooth over the sharp edges of the sounds clamoring for my attention. The clicking of heels from an overdressed patron downstairs, a woman demanding a free drink, the soft moans of a couple tangled up in the corner. I let all of it blur into the background until all I could hear was the music thumping through my skin, syncing with my pulse.
For just a moment, I didn’t feel the pressure in my chest from being the Rossey heir. I didn’t hear my dad, Ax, in my head, telling me to go harder, to be tougher. Didn’t hear the muttered doubts and or see the forced smiles that followed me into every room. I was just a body in motion, hands raised overhead, letting the beat carry me.
“Damn, Nova! Girl out here being all sexy! Get it, girl!”
Cracking one eye open, I glanced down at my little sister. Aniyah. The birthday girl was twenty-one tonight. All of us siblings were here to celebrate her, but today was also the endof an era and the beginning of another—one we’d spent years preparing for.
Now that she was of age, and Calix, the oldest, was pushing twenty-seven, it was time for us to step into power. For years, we’d been the bosses-in-training—grilled, tested, taught how to manage our clans, our territories, and our duties to the Syndicate and our family. The lieutenants were watching, waiting to see which of us would rise and who might crack, but I knew none of us would. Failure wasnotan option.
Change always ruffled feathers, and in the Rossey clan, you didn’t get handed power. You earned it, fought for it, or bled trying.
“Comeon! Look at those two over there.” Aniyah’s grin widened. “You think either of them has the birthday dick I’m looking for?”
I followed her gaze to the bar, where two men were eyeing her with open interest. One was a werewolf, the other a vampire. Both tall, both attractive, both clearly clocking Aniyah in her glittering excuse of a top and barely there white mini skirt with slits up the sides. She looked like some kind of ready-for-sex club Barbie—flawless skin, full glam, and wild confidence to boot.
No wonder they were staring.
Looking down at myself, I internally grimaced. The ripped black jeans, thick-heeled boots, and cropped black tee I wore under my worn leather jacket didn’t exactly scream “sex kitten” like Aniyah. I let the self-conscious twinge fall away, like I usually do, and grabbed two shots from a passing waitress, shoving one into her hand with a smirk.
“Go find out, girl. Can’t know what they’re packing unless you cop a feel. And, hey… what if he’s a grower?”
I wiggled my brows teasingly, knowing damn well she didn’t need a push.
She grinned and tossed back the shot. I downed mine to match, savoring the way the Hellfire liquor burned all the way down. Smoke and spice hit my throat, and when it hit my stomach, a cold rush spread through my body, making me shiver.
“Damn!” she gasped, shaking her head. “That shit’sharshgoing down, but once it settles? My veins arebuzzing.”
I shrugged. “That’s Hellfire for you. It figures out what your body craves, then drowns you in it.”
Ezra was a genius for sourcing and producing an alcohol that worked for supes. The only downside? It gave your body what it wanted most, which, in turn, made it slightly addictive. For a werewolf like me, who ran extra hot, it created the cool chill that my body craved. If you weren't strong of body and mind, able to control your urges, you might end up broke and at the bottom of the bottle, begging for more.
That was why we were the only ones who sold it. Hellfire was a Syndicate exclusive with a high price tag and heavy consequences for those who abused it. Only we were in possession of a quick fix antidote to counter its magic, and our establishments kept it on hand as insurance to make sure the supes didn’t get out of line too quickly. If you got sloppy, not only would we hit you with the antidote, but we would leave you broke, bruised, and blacklisted from our establishments. A heavy price for a supe, one that no one wanted to mess around with.
Aniyah shook out her body like she was shedding all restraint, casting a quick glance back toward the booth. Ezra and Calixwere deep in another one of their intense debates. Riot, true to form, stalked the perimeter like a bloodhound, scanning faces while pretending she was dancing with us. That girlneededa good dicking more than anyone I knew, just to knock the edge off.
“Come on,” Aniyah said, grabbing my arm and tugging me along.
I resisted half-heartedly. “Nah, girl, looks like they both wantyouto take them for a ride, and why not? It’s your birthday—call it a two-for-one deal.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, Nova. I need a wingwoman.” She nodded toward the werewolf. “I’ve got my eye on the blond with thecome-fuck-me-in-the-foresteyes.”
She blew him a kiss. His pupils dilated, and he unashamedly adjusted himself, which made her giggle.
We stopped at the bar opposite them, and before we could even flag anyone down, the bartender slid two drinks in front of us.
Aniyah took a slow sip, then leaned toward me, her voice completely sinful. “And if he plays his cards right? Might be a little fuck in the bathroom. Start the night off right, you know what I mean.”
I shrugged and drank. My eyes never left the werewolf and his vampire friend as they peeled away from the bar and started making their way toward us. Aniyah leaned forward, hiding a smile behind her glass.
“He just got a point for taking the bait. Men have to come to me,especiallyin a club. If I have to go to him, that’s the first red flag.”
I laughed into my drink. “Now, why is it a red flagon himifyou’rethe one who walked over and said something?” I genuinely wanted to know, so the question was only a half-joke.
Aniyah rolled her eyes like I was the slowest person alive. “Because, Nova, if they’re not willing to get their asses up and chase me, they’re not gonna be willing to do all the things I want in bed. It’s about reading the situation, and if you can’t do what I want, then you’re just wasting my time.”
