Page 122 of Destiny


Font Size:

Unique nature.

I feel Nova tense beside me.

“What do you mean, unique?” Rane asks.

Laith’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Six members is unusual. Seven, now, with Mr. Dalton’s recent… proximity patterns.” His gaze flicks to Trey, then back to Nova. “And of course, there’s the matter of Miss Wilder’s status.”

“My status,” Nova repeats. Her voice is flat but I can hear the edge underneath.

“No mark. No House affiliation. Fifteen years outside the system.” Laith tilts his head. “You must understand our interest. You’re quite unprecedented.”

He says it like a compliment. It’s not.

“I’m not unprecedented,” Nova says. “I’m just late.”

“Are you?”

The question hangs there. I watch his eyes trace over her face, down to her wrists — bare, unmarked — and back up again.

Nova’s getting warm.

I feel it before I see it. The temperature beside me climbing, heat radiating off her skin like she’s running a fever. Her hands are clenched in her lap and there’s the faintest sheen of sweat at her hairline.

Shit.

I shift in my chair, casual, and let my hand rest on her forearm. Just a light touch. Easy to miss if you’re not looking for it.

The effect is immediate. I feel the heat leach into my palm — my body running cold enough to absorb it — and her shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. She doesn’t look at me, but her breathing steadies.

Laith notices the touch. His eyes track to my hand on her arm, linger for a moment, then return to her face.

Fuck.

“I’d like to discuss your childhood,” he says to Nova. “Before the system located you.”

“There’s not much to discuss.”

“Humor me.”

Nova’s quiet for a moment. I keep my hand on her arm, thumb brushing her skin, keeping her temperature down.

“I survived,” she says finally. “That’s it. I moved around. I stayed invisible. I didn’t die.”

“For fifteen years.”

“Yes.”

“Alone.”

“Yes.”

“No assistance from anyone? No help from any House, any individual, any… organization?”

The question has teeth. I feel Nova’s arm heat up under my palm again.

“No,” she says. “Just me.”

Laith studies her. The silence stretches.