I threw up a hand, choking on words that felt like glass in my throat. “I don’t need to know. Just don’t fuck in my jeep.” Twisting the throttle, I tore off, not brave enough to hear whatever excuse he wanted to give me.
The wind whipped against me, feeling like small slices across my face, and I let it. Better to focus on the sting of cold air than the breaking in my chest.
When my eyes blurred, threatening to spill over, I told myself I wasn't crying. Something had gotten caught in my eye since I didn't have much gear on, leaving too quickly for any of that.
That’s what I get for not wearing a helmet.
* Manbitch by Haiku Hands
13
NOVA
Arriving at the address Rack had given me, I parked my bike in front of the old, decrepit warehouse, then I sat there for a second, taking several slow, deep breaths that came from my battered soul. The exhales that followed expelled all the tension I'd been holding, all the confusion and pain. Letting all of it go before I went in to see my brother, who would know instantly if something was off, was a necessity.
That warm, hot tingle on my wrist, the one that had burned relentlessly since I'd left, finally began to subside, transforming from fierce intensity into nothing more than a dull, persistent ache that echoed through my bones. I looked down at my wrist then, studying it with desperate hope that something, anything, would give me answers, but it looked exactly the same as always. No marks or lines marred my skin, no visible evidence of the torment I'd been experiencing. The sight left me utterly confused as to what any of it could possibly mean.
When Aniyah had described how her tattoo burned, she'd said it was like taking a shot of pure lust, craving the mates the tattoo was meant to hide, but mine hadn't felt that way at all. Instead, ithad been more of a slow, agonizing burn, like something foreign and confusing was forcing its way into my very body, trying to take root where it didn't belong.
The burning sensation had flared when I was with Conrad, fired up like a live wire when my eyes met Nick's, and ached with a deep, throbbing pain when I felt highly emotional around Zeth.
I could accept that I was attracted to these three men, as that much was undeniable. I could even accept that I wanted to explore the physical side of things with them. But to be mates? The very idea seemed impossible, like trying to convince myself that the sky was green or water flowed upward.
I’d felt something inside of me break after I realized that Zeth really wasn't coming back. That my kiss and confession were rejected in the nicest way he could think of—disappearance. That stupid, stubborn hope that I'd found my perfect partner sunk to the bottom of the deep, dark ocean in my soul, never to rise again. My wolf had been so certain, and it was even harder for her to face his nice rejection, so I took up the slack, knowing I had to be the strong one for the both of us.
It was one of the reasons I got the mate-blocking tattoo. You couldn’t have what was already taken. At least that was what I thought until Conrad and Nick showed up, making my wolf react like they possessed the rope to where that hope had sunk and were slowly, carefully pulling it back to the surface.
The question that haunted me now was whether someone who had been rejected could eventually find another mate, or even less likely,multiplemates. I'd never heard of such a thing before, had never even dared to dream it might be possible.
A flash of Lucy touching Zeth’s arm came to mind, making my skin crawl. Why did my heart still bleed for Zeth with such relentless persistence? I'd agonized over him for what felt like an eternity, torturing myself with thoughts of what could’ve been, what should’ve been. I just couldn't carve him out of my heart, no matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much pain he continued to cause me.
As I stared at my wrist, I could still feel the phantom vibrations of the tattoo gun as she had layered magic into the mate-blocking spell. The memory was so vivid I could almost hear the buzzing sound and feel the needle piercing my skin over and over again.
The more I stared, the bigger that small spark inside me grew, flickering like a candle flame in a gentle breeze. Could I find a mate again? Was my body responding to Conrad and Nick as potential mates? Were they replacements for what I’d lost or something new entirely?
"What the fuck, Nova?! It's cold as fuck!" Calix’s familiar voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, and I puffed out a laugh despite everything. "Not all of us have a built-in heater in our DNA."
Swinging my leg over my bike, I waved at my brother, heading in his direction before his complaining got any worse.
His shoulders were hunched, his arms folded tightly across his chest, looking at me like everything was my fault. "You know how I feel about the damn fucking cold."
I shook my head, unable to suppress a small smile. "It's April! What did you expect?"
"Not to freeze my balls off, Nova! That should never be an option! Come on!" He waved me in urgently, tucking his hands against his sides and mumbling under his breath about “damn wolves” and “should bury them in the ice to teach them a lesson.” His complaints were so typical, so perfectly him, that I felt some tension leave my shoulders.
I pressed my lips together, keeping my chuckle to myself. It was genuinely nice to see him, even with all his complaining and dramatic flair. His presence helped me let everything else go, let me focus on whatreallymattered—my territory, the Syndicate, our legacy. These were the things that would outlast whatever romantic confusion I was experiencing.
He threw open the door with gusto, and, luckily, I caught it before it smacked me in the face.What a whiny little prince he is.
Magic rippled over the space around me as soon as I stepped through the threshold. It washed over me in waves, the sensation like walking through an invisible waterfall. The space before me was night and day from the junky exterior, a complete transformation that spoke to my brother's incredible ingenuity.
Magic pulsed along the walls and ceiling, creating an invisible barrier that separated the pristine white and stainless steel room inside from the harsh elements outside. White walls stretched in every direction, broken up by several glass half-walls covered with complex equations and formulas. Several stainless steel tables held microscopes and magical tools that hummed with barely contained power. A large refrigerator dominated the back wall next to a massive metal machine filled with trays of vials, its mechanical arm moving with precise, hypnotic movements as it picked up vials and scanned them with methodical efficiency.
This was a full-fledged mini version of the lab he maintained at home in Texas, and, somehow, he'd managed to bring all this equipment here without my knowledge. For a second, I was in awe of what a sneaky, brilliant, evil genius he was.Glad he uses that brain of his for us.
The machine in the far back corner beeped insistently, and he was over there in a flash, his vampire speed making him appear to have teleported. He studied the readout on the computer next to it, his expression growing more serious by the second.
"Well, shit." He raked his hand through the icy locks that perfectly matched mine, and when his golden, pink-hued eyes sliced over to me, I could feel the gravity of whatever he'd discovered. "You really need to see this."
