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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

NOVA

I blink, the fog in my head lifting bit by bit as I become aware of soft voices murmuring around me. My skin feels like it’s buzzing, like I’ve been dipped in static, the steady pulse of magic winding through every nerve.

“She’s stabilizing,” someone says, their voice clear but emotionless. “Delay spell is holding. Proceed.”

I try to sit up, but my limbs feel heavy, like I’ve been pinned to the plush table beneath me. My wolf stirs uneasily, but the heat—the clawing, desperate hunger—is distant now, dulled to a low ache. My head lolls to the side, and I see one of the attendants approaching, holding something that sparkles in the light.

“Welcome back.” She smiles at me. “We’re going to outfit you now, Miss Drake. This will ensure safety for you and the alpha assigned to your heat session.”

I open my mouth to ask what the hell that means, but she’s already gesturing for me to lift my chin. “Voice modulation spell first.” My eyes track to the little bracelet around her wrist with a beta symbol on it. She also has a pack charm. “It’ll ensure anonymity.”

Magic hums as she casts the spell, and I feel an odd tingle in my throat, like the fizz of a strong drink. When I try to speak, my voice comes out warped, unrecognizable—not too deep, not too high, just … neutral, but pleasant.

My brows knit together, but she doesn’t give me a chance to protest before she picks up the next item—a small, glowing crystal. “Open wide.”

I glare at her, but my wolf pushes forward, curious. Let them.

Not helping , I snap back at her, but I comply, opening my mouth. The crystal flares briefly as she presses it against my tongue, and I feel the spell settle over my teeth. “This enchantment prevents your canines from breaking skin,” the attendant explains, her voice clinical. “No mating bonds can form, even accidentally.”

I grind my teeth experimentally, frowning when there’s no give. My wolf growls in irritation, but I ignore her.

“And now for your vision,” the attendant continues, waving a hand over my eyes. “This spell will ensure complete visual privacy.”

I stiffen, instinctively pulling back, but her magic has already taken hold. The world around me dims, shadows closing in until everything goes black, as though I’ve been plunged into a cave. My heart pounds as I blink, but it’s no use. My sight is gone.

“You’re doing great.” Her tone softens. “The spell doesn’t impair your other senses. You’ll still feel everything. Hear everything. Smell everything. But you won’t be able to see the alpha, and they won’t be able to see you.”

I swallow hard, a wave of unease washing over me. The idea of being completely blind in a situation like this sets every instinct I have on edge. This is ridiculous , I growl to myself, even as my wolf stirs excitedly. I guess this is what I asked for.

“This is for your privacy, Miss Drake,” the attendant says, as though reading my mind. “And theirs. It’s standard protocol for all sessions.”

I nod reluctantly, the absence of sight making everything else feel sharper—the soft rustle of her clothes, the bright hum of magic in the air, the steady rhythm of my own breathing.

“Now,” the attendant says, her tone still as calm as ever, “we’re going to help you choose your nesting materials.”

Nesting. The word alone sends a shiver through me, my wolf perking up immediately. Finally, she purrs, anticipation buzzing under my skin.

Shut up . The words come before I think, even though I can’t deny the bloom of curiosity curling in my gut. The blackness of the spell keeps me grounded, my other senses narrowing to fine points as I hear the attendant shifting something onto the table next to me.

“We’ve prepared several options for you to choose from. All pre-scented for compatibility,” she explains. There’s a quiet rustle of fabric, and my head tilts toward the sound as the softest trace of something familiar brushes against me. “Reach out, take your time. You may feel a little off-balance as a result of the medication we gave you to hold off your heat so you can do this.”

My hands tremble as I stretch forward, fingertips grazing the edge of what feels like a pile of fabric. Warmth blooms under my touch, followed by a scent so rich and vivid it makes me pause. Cool and fresh, like the promise of snow, laced with something sweet—burnt sugar melting over heat. My wolf hums contentedly as I bring the fabric closer, pressing it to my face.

This, she whispers, nuzzling the scent like it’s a lifeline. This one. Ours.

I grit my teeth, stuffing the fabric back onto the pile. “What is this?” My voice comes out strained, my wolf’s longing almost overwhelming.

“The alpha selected these himself. It’s customary,” the attendant replies, her voice clipped but professional. “If an omega rejects all materials, the pairing can be re-evaluated.”

Reject? My wolf snarls at the mere thought, urging me to pull the fabric back to my chest, to hoard it like a dragon fae with treasure. No. We keep it.

My fingers find the next piece. It’s slightly rougher, the weave looser, but the scent is heavier here—bright, crisp, and almost intoxicating. It pulls at something deep inside me, a yearning I can’t put words to. I hold it close for a moment, then set it aside with shaky hands.

“Two so far,” the attendant notes. I hear the scratch of pen on paper.

The third option is soft, almost weightless, like gossamer threads spun together. The scent here is subtler, more understated, but there’s a hint of warmth beneath the coolness, like the sun breaking through a winter storm. It feels soothing, like the kind of comfort I didn’t know I needed until now. My hands clutch it instinctively, my breath hitching as my wolf sighs.

“You’re doing well,” the attendant says. Her voice seems distant, drowned out by the thrum of my pulse as I bury my face in the fabric.

Ours, my wolf growls, satisfaction lacing every syllable. All of it.

I don’t know how long it takes me to sort through the rest of the materials. My wolf claims every piece, her instinct to nest overpowering my logic. When the pile is finally gone, the attendant gently removes my hands from the last item and says, “That’s it. All chosen.”

I sag back against the chair, exhaustion sweeping over me. My body feels too warm, too full, my wolf smug and purring.

The attendant has me stand while she places her hand in mine and guides me down what feels like a never-ending hallway. My feet shuffle against the smooth stone floor, the spell over my eyes still blotting out all light.

“Where are we going?” My throat feels tight, and my pulse thrums in my ears.

“To your designated room. No one else will know where it is—not even the staff. A spell is allocating your chosen materials there as we speak, and another spell will guide you the rest of the way when we reach the boundary.”

I frown, confused. “What do you mean, no one will know where it is? Not even you?” I remember the doctor saying that, but what if I need help?

“That’s correct.” Her tone is calm but matter-of-fact. “Anonymity and privacy are everything. Once I hand you over to the spell, you’ll be entirely in its care, and you are safe. You can ask it anything, and it will guide you or answer your questions as needed.”

“How?” My brows knit together. This all sounds too … impersonal. Too cold. “What kind of spell does that?”

“It’s called Beta.” She gives my hand a small squeeze, and I remember what I’d been told at my clinic appointment about the AI aspect. “An artificial intelligence spell. It’s been enchanted with millennia of knowledge, bound to the clinic’s wards. It will respond to your voice and adjust to your needs as though it were a real person.”

I bite my lip, my wolf huffing in curiosity. Beta? Sounds ridiculous, she grumbles, though I feel the barest hint of her approval. My wolf seems pleased that this system will keep us safe, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

“Alright,” I murmur, taking a shaky breath. “And the nest?”

Her voice softens. “Your nest is yours alone to create. It’s one of the most sacred parts of an omega’s heat. No one—staff or otherwise—will touch it. Everything you selected is waiting for you, and Beta will help you if you need guidance in arranging it.”

I nod slowly, my hands tightening around hers. It’s reassuring, at least. “How many other omegas are here right now?”

“Thirty-nine,” she answers without hesitation. “Including you. Your alpha, however, has already arrived. He was notified the moment you came in and entered his holding room shortly after. He’s ready whenever you are.”

The words send a strange shiver down my spine, though I can’t quite place the emotion behind it. Relief? Anticipation? Fear? I swallow hard, forcing myself to focus. “And Tai? Callum? The males I came here with?”

“They’ve been sent back to their dorms,” she says gently. “Your heat will last several days, possibly up to a week, and only your designated alpha will be allowed in your room. You’ll be safe.”

Safe. The word feels both foreign and fragile in my mind, especially with the storm of emotions and instincts battling inside me. My wolf growls softly, wanting nothing more than to move forward, to follow the path to whatever waits for us. To him.

“Alright,” I whisper again, my throat dry. “Let’s get this over with.”

We come to a stop, and the attendant squeezes my hand one final time. “This is where I leave you,” she says. “Beta will take over from here. Trust it. It’s designed to ensure you have everything you need.”

Before I can respond, her hand slips from mine, and a cool tingle wraps around me like a hug. A voice, warm, almost hypnotizing, fills the air around me.

“Novaleigh, I’m Beta. Your guide from here forward.”

My wolf perks up, tail wagging metaphorically, and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes at her enthusiasm. “Beta?” I shift my weight, frowning into the darkness. “You’re the spell?”

“I am the spell,” it confirms, the words layered with a warmth that makes my wolf purr. “And your caretaker during this process. Are you ready to proceed?”

I take a step back, my arms crossing over my chest. “I don’t even know what ‘proceeding’ entails.”

You signed up for this.

Doesn’t mean I like going in without knowing what the fuck is going to happen to me when I’m all loopy and begging for a knot.

“You’ll be guided there momentarily. The alpha selected for your heat is in his holding room and will not enter until you grant explicit permission.”

“Fine,” I mutter, rubbing at my temple. “And the nest? Am I just supposed to … figure it out?”

“The materials you selected are waiting for you,” Beta hums. “You’ll create your nest instinctively. No staff or spell will interfere unless you ask me for assistance.”

Before I can argue, warmth pulses against my chest, urging me forward. “Follow me,” Beta says, their tone brooking no argument.

Here goes nothing.