Nova's POV
I woke up in Eldur's arms.
Warm, safe, and somehow—against all odds—whole.
My body ached in places I didn't know could hurt, but I barely noticed. My cheek rested against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat calming every bit of my soul. The scent of ash and winter clung to him, sharp but familiar. My eyes were puffy from crying, my lips dry, and I felt… raw.
But I was alive.
And Eldur had saved me.
I didn't know how he knew. I didn't even care. All I knew was that when Jimmy kept beating me and I thought I was going to die in this apartment—I'd thought of Eldur. Like some desperate wish whispered into the stars.
And then he came.
With fire in his eyes.
With violence in his voice.
With mercy only for me.
I didn't ask what happened to Jimmy.
Good riddance.
I didn't want to know, didn't want to talk about him. He was a closed door. A flicked-out match. I had nothing left to say about him—just a strange, echoing relief that the monster was gone.
