Fated To The Alpha, Stolen By His Brother

”What the hell?”

Derek had disappeared into the closet.

Nova got off the bed and crossed the room. His ”closet” was the size of a large apartment. The largest she had ever seen.

”I ordered things for you. They were supposed to be here.” He turned to her, gesturing at the space like it might explain itself.

”You ordered things for me?” Nova repeated, because hearing it once hadn’t been sufficient for her brain to accept the download. This man had been buying her things since she woke up from a coma and the supply chain apparently extended to a pre-furnished closet in a mountain fortress.

”Of course I did.” He crossed back to her and kissed her like the question was offensive. ”What did you think, I was going to bring you home to an empty closet?”

A knock at the chamber door interrupted whatever Nova’s face was about to do, which was probably cry, and she was grateful for the intervention because the quota was a joke at this point.

Derek opened it. An omega servant stood in the corridor, head slightly bowed, hands clasped in front of her.

”What happened to the things I ordered for my mate? They were supposed to be here. I confirmed the delivery twice.”

”Yes, Your Highness. Everything was put away as you requested.” The omega’s voice was steady but careful. ”The High Luna had us remove everything and relocate it to the guest chambers.”

”You’re joking. Why would my mate be staying in chambers different than mine?”

”The High Luna didn’t specify, Your Highness.”

The silence that followed was the silence of a man doing math he didn’t want to finish. Derek’s jaw tightened. His suit flickered once at the edges, a single pulse of blue that climbed his collar and died.

Nova watched Derek’s face cycle through three emotions and settle on the fourth, which was the quiet, dangerous one that lived underneath the others and kept the lights on when everything else went dark.

”Would you mind taking me there?” Nova asked the servant.

The omega gave a small nod. ”Of course, 7709.”

Nova turned to Derek, who was standing in the doorway with his arm locked around her waist like he was holding onto a rope and the rope was attached to the last good thing in his day.

”You stay here and relax.” She rose on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. ”I’ll be just fine.”

His face softened. The jaw unclenched by a degree.

She pulled out of his grip. His fingers trailed across her waist as she stepped away, holding on until the distance made the decision for him. His hand closed on nothing and stayed there for a second too long before dropping to his side.

Nova followed the omega into the corridor.

Hopefully, without Nova, the stress would ease for him. She seemed to be the catalyst for things that upset him and that was the opposite of what she wanted.

Nova walked beside the servant through corridors.

”What is your name?” Nova asked.

The woman looked at Nova a bit confused, then offended, like Nova had been rude by asking.

”That is not a customary question.”

”Apologies. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”

Nova meant it. She wasn’t trying to make anyone uncomfortable. In Starborne, it was normal for slaves to ask other slaves what their names were. But servants in Thunderfang weren’t slaves. They were paid. Silver-free. And clearly there was a distinction.

They turned a corner. The corridor narrowed. The ivy was gone entirely now, replaced by simple sconce lighting that hummed a steady white.

”My name is Carmen,” the woman said.

The words came out like a concession, reluctant and precise, offered the way you hand someone a tool you expect to get back.

”Great to meet you, Carmen,” Nova said softly.

Carmen walked in silence for another ten steps. Then she spoke again and the temperature in the corridor dropped.

”Don’t get comfortable, 7709. You are temporary here.”

Nova’s face fell. The expression happened before she could catch it, the involuntary response of a girl who was already feeling a bit out of her element and Carmen had just pressed on the bruise.

She swallowed. ”I understand.”

Carmen pushed open a door at the end of the hall and stepped aside, gesturing Nova through with the efficiency of a woman delivering a package to an address she disapproved of.

”Prince Derek grows tired of women quickly. That is what I meant by temporary,” she clarified. ”Sleeping with him only works for so long.”

Nova blinked a few times. The sentence landed in multiple places at once, hitting the part of her that was Derek’s mate and the part of her that was still learning what that meant and the part of her, buried deep and quiet, that had been waiting for someone to confirm the fear she hadn’t been brave enough to name. An insecurity that was pathetic but very real. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t there. The fear that she wasn’t good enough for Derek Thunderfang.

Carmen met her eyes without flinching.

”The High Luna expects you to be gone before the end of the week.” She clasped her hands in front of her, posture returning to its original state, the personal detour concluded. ”These are your quarters. I wouldn’t wait up for Prince Derek.”

Nova didn’t say anything for a long moment. This woman was not kind. Further interaction would only produce more of the same and Nova’s daily intake for cruelty had been exceeded.

She lifted her chin a fraction. ”Thank you for your concern.”

She took the door from Carmen’s hand, the motion smooth and final, the universal signal for you may leave now delivered with politeness because Nova was that, unlike Carmen.

Carmen’s face did something. Surprise, maybe. Or the cousin of surprise that visits when a person you have categorized as beneath you responds with more class than you expected and the composure rearranges something you weren’t planning to rearrange. Whatever it was, it lasted half a second before Carmen’s training swallowed it.

She turned and left.

Nova shut the door and locked it. The click of the lock was small and loud and hers.

She leaned against it for three seconds. Breathed. Then she opened her eyes and looked at the room.