Eleven minutes. That's how long Jax lasted before he stopped pretending to work, Fin behind him.
She was three stories below and sixty yards out.
Both of them found themselves moving to the balcony so they could hear Draven's training session.
A sunset spilled over the training fields, frost settling on the ground.
"Sterling always brings his best cadets to kick Draven's class's ass," Jax said with a low chuckle. "He's desperate for one of them to come out on top."
"Is that tomorrow?"
"Yes. Apparently this group is hit or miss. Their target practices are basically a circus."
Fin huffed a quiet laugh.
From the balcony, both men watched the field below. It wasn't unusual for leaders to observe classes and trainings from afar—but neither of them were here out of duty.
They both were watching for the same reason, pretending like it wasn't for her.
Down below, a new captain and a handful of first and second lieutenants sparred one-on-one with the students.
"Ah," Jax murmured, nodding toward the field. "They're friends with Draven. Probably volunteered."
Nova was in her full black training suit identical to her classmates. It was one piece and zipped up the back, it was supposed to be skin-tight, but it was a little loose on her. Her silver blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail.
It was clear they had been training all day. Her redheaded friend looked equally exhausted next to her.
Exhausted or not, she stood out from everyone else on the field. Neither Fin nor Jax could look away—and they weren't the only ones.
Every pack member, omega, and warrior who passed seemed to do a double take.
A few lieutenants slowed their pace just to watch her, one even tripped over a training spear and earned a round of laughter from his comrades.
Her class barely noticed anymore. They'd been around her long enough to be desensitized to it. Nova herself seemed completely unaware, lost in focus.
Draven, if he noticed, didn't comment.
But Fin and Jax? Neither had blinked in minutes.
Jax didn't like that she was training with the male warriors. For starters, she'd only been training for a few months and the opponents were easily double her size.
Fin's jaw tightened beside him, the realization settling in that every one of those warriors would have to touch her. He'd seen countless women spar and it had never once crossed his mind.
But this was her. And suddenly, the thought of anyone touching her at all, made his blood run hot.
The two men stood in silence, neither voicing what they were thinking.
???
Training Master Draven stood at the edge of the sparring ring, his deep voice carrying.
"Captain, pick your opponent."
The recently promoted captain, Hunter Ryker, stepped forward. Tall, broad-shouldered, and far too sure of himself, he carried that easy arrogance of someone used to being admired.
His grin was the kind that had likely gotten him out of trouble and into plenty of beds. Most of the girls in Nova's class were already staring, eyes wide and dreamy.
He was well known among the she-wolves for both his skill and his charm, though Nova hadn't been paying attention long enough to know his name. She was too exhausted, running on sheer discipline.
His gaze, however, had been fixed on her for some time, drifting back to her between every match.
Finally, he nodded toward her with a casual flick of his chin. "Who's that one?" he asked, like she wasn't standing five feet away.
Draven's grin made it clear he'd been waiting for that. "Nova Moonveil."
Nova realized a second too late that she was being discussed. The look she shot at Draven said everything.
Draven only crossed his arms, tone dry. "No way out of it, Moonveil."
It was obvious they'd danced this dance before.
That earned laughter from her class. Nova sighed and stepped forward.
"How long's she been training?" Hunter asked, flashing a grin.
"A few months," Draven said.
He smiled, lowering into a loose stance. "I'll go easy on her."
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From the balcony above, Jax and Fin could make out Draven's face. Both noticed his lips twitch for a second. A ripple of laughter broke through the watching students, almost like there was something they'd seen that no one else knew.
Fin's eyes narrowed. "What the hell was that?"
"Why is Nova about to spar?" Jax snapped.
All of his instincts told him he should intervene. But she wasn't his.
The whistle blew.
On the field, Hunter lunged, fast but predictable.
Nova pivoted sideways in a blur, caught his wrist and spun under his arm. Before he could recover, she struck three pressure points—shoulder, hip, knee—and swept his legs out from under him.
He hit the frosted ground with a grunt, blinking in shock.
Draven called, "Hunter, zero. Nova, one."
The class erupted in laughter like they had been expecting that.
The captain rose, brushing dust off his arms, smirking now.
"I like a woman who plays rough," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. The lieutenants snickered behind him.
Nova didn't acknowledge it.
The whistle blew again.
This time, the captain came in low with a feint, strike, and pivot.
Nova dodged, sliding under a kick, rolled and came up behind him. Her boot landed in his back, and it sent him stumbling forward.
"Draven, where the hell have you been hiding her?" Hunter called out mid-grapple, laughing breathlessly.
"She never volunteers," Draven answered, casually, as though Nova weren't standing right there.
Nova lost focus just for a split second, and shot Draven a look.
The captain missed his moment. Instead of attacking, he stood there, staring.
"Don't look at me like that, Moonveil. You don't," Draven said flatly.
Nova didn't respond. She turned her attention back to the captain, just as he blinked and realized that he should have attacked.
From the sidelines, one of the lieutenants bellowed out, laughter in his voice. "Gods, Ryker. Her eyes moved and you just stood there!"
Hunter grinned at Nova, not embarrassed at all.
He lunged. She twisted, but he managed to hook her around the waist from behind.
"You like that?" He said in her ear, entirely too pleased with himself. She could feel his bulge hard, pressing against her. "If you keep rubbing against me like that—"
Before the words could leave his mouth, she scorpion-kicked upward, driving her heel into his jaw. The blow sent his head snapping back.
Reeling, Hunter caught his balance just long enough to slam her into the ground.
A pained grunt escaped her before she could stop it. But she didn't skip a beat, sweeping her leg out to take his feet from under him.
He hit the dirt beside her with a choked, "Fuck."
Before he knew what was happening, she was up and his arms twisted behind him.
It was clean, it was tight, and it was a textbook submission hold. The point should have gone to her and everyone knew it.
But Draven didn't blow the whistle.
Hunter, stunned but not stupid, powered through the hold. He swept his leg around in a desperate attempt to trip her, but she stepped over the limb, unimpressed.
She seized his arms again, catching the exact same pressure points as before, but this time she hauled him backward with a brutal jerk.
He went down with a groan, stunned and breathless.
Draven blew the whistle.
"Alright," Hunter growled. "You want full force? You got it."
From the sideline, Draven called out, "Nova two, Hunter zero."
Hunter didn't wait. He lunged again—faster this time.
Nova twisted to avoid him, but he caught her mid-motion, yanking her clean off her feet.
He slammed her down. The second her back hit the frosted ground, he had her wrists pinned above her head, his weight crushing the air from her lungs.
"That glare's cute. Still doesn't change the fact I've got you right where I want you."
Nova's eyes flashed.
The whistle blew.
Hunter got off of Nova and smirked. She flipped to her feet in one fluid motion, irritated and done with this. A bruise bloomed on her cheek.
Draven lifted the whistle to his lips. "Hunter, one. Nova, two. Nova, if you get this point, you win."
Hunter cracked his neck, shaking out his shoulders like he was stepping into a tavern brawl rather than a structured match.
"You do have fight in you after all. Here I was thinking you were mute and unskilled," Hunter said, amused. "Mute is still up for debate." He glanced at Draven. "Does she speak ever?"
Nova didn't answer. She knew he was trying to trick her into being the aggressor.
A blatant look at Draven in the middle of a match was so obvious it was almost funny. Almost.
???
Fin's expression darkened. He'd been feeling her through the matebond, and none of it sat right in his chest. She was in more pain than she let on. She'd been training since dawn. Literally an hour after she woke up in the infirmary.
"Draven should have given her the point well before that," he stated.
"He probably doesn't want the captain to leave this embarrassed and not help again." Jax said, shaking his head with a grin.
Fin chuckled. "He is getting his ass thoroughly kicked."
"She's had to have trained in Ashbane at some point right? There's no way two months of training leads to that." Jax wondered aloud.
"Not that I've ever seen," Fin agreed.
As the match went on, Jax's grip tightened around the cold stone of the balcony. He was already not okay with the fact she was sparring.
But, when he caught some of the captain's comments, something snapped inside him and he felt absolute rage. Something he had no business feeling, but he was done pretending otherwise.
Another feeling washed into him that he couldn't name. A flicker of unease but it didn't make sense.
It took a moment for him to sort through it.
His expression shifted from concentration to holy shit in the span of three seconds.
It was her emotions he was feeling. Not his. The same tethered sensation he'd once shared with his late fated mate Cira. Only Nova's presence struck harder. It was deeper.
He couldn't deny it anymore.
Jax: Talon... is she our second chance mate? I feel such a pull to her.
Talon: I feel she's meant to be our mate, yet it's not acknowledged by fate.
Jax: I feel a deeper pull than what I felt for Cira. Her emotions bleed through without a mark.
Talon: Her fate is tied to another. Maybe if that other passes, we'd be her second chance mate. I am not sure. But the connection is there and it's deep.
Jax: So I'm not imagining her emotions.
Talon: No. I feel them. I felt the sparks when you touched. You aren't imagining any of it.
Jax's insides churned at that revelation, hot and sour, the idea of Nova's fate being tethered to anyone outside himself felt like a blade dragged slowly along bone.
He'd been fighting his instincts since the day he carried her into Shadowclaw.
He was done fighting it.
His thoughts were interrupted when he felt pain in his ribs. His wolf commented before he could ask.
Talon: That captain hurt her. If he touches her one more time, I will rip his throat.
Then he heard shouts. "That wasn't clean!"
Hunter Ryker had Nova by her neck.
Jax saw red and was already moving.
But then he looked up to see Nova's boot slam into Hunter's crotch.
Hunter dropped, instantly, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he collapsed to his knees.
She stepped back, breathing hard. She had a busted lip, dark bruise on her cheek and her neck was red.
Draven blew the whistle. "Point. Match. Nova."
Hunter wheezed in the dirt.
Nova turned toward Draven, slowly, and shook her head.
"Oh, you're fine, Moonveil. Now you can brag you beat a captain at sparring."
Jax moved from the balcony without a word.
He was done waiting.
Why did Draven let that match go on for so long without blowing the whistle?
