Unedited.

For the next week, Nyssa didn't come back to the house. Kale visited twice, shifting on his feet in a way that made my ribs crack with old grief. He had always been a terrible liar and ashamed of any misbehavior. When he had left paint marks on my homework, I had questioned him. He had shifted on his feet, red faced and stammered a sullen little 'noooooooo....'

I ignored it as best I could, tending to the gardens out in the park and helping in the town-hall. I was enmeshed with the community of Lunar, a hidden weapon among such breakable bones. In the Lycan's compound, I tracked the progress of the Ravi and spilled what I could. I had spent eight years with them, and yet knew so little about them. I knew their cruelty, knew their desire to create and destroy with equal measure but didn't know how to find them, how to stop them.

The café in Lunar had come to know me and when I stepped through the doors, the smell of coffee filled me with silly expectant joy. Lux had gone next door, attracted by the smells wafting from the bakery. Not a very good watcher. The sun had burnt into the back of my neck and my unbound hair tickled my naked shoulders. There was soil on my hands, dirt on the strawberry patched dress that fell in flowing ripples.

There was a lady waiting in line, fiddling with the bangles of her bracelet. I stepped up beside her, scouring the menu. I would always get black coffee, but there were funny little coffees of the day that Easton loved to try. Mint. In a coffee? Ick.

"What would you recommend?" The lady beside me asked, her voice soft. She was tall, like me, with age lined into the corners of her mouth. Dark brown hair, peppered with grey was loosely pulled into a plait. She was tanned, with the scent of Lycan lying under the rich scent of coffee.

"What do you prefer?" I asked.

"Oh, it's not for me." She smiled at me easily, the softness of her voice nearly hidden under the noise of the café. "Something sweet. It's for my husband."

"He likes sweet things?" The line moved a step to the side.

"Enough to rot his teeth." She smiled fondly, her eyes carving into crescents. "I tell him he shouldn't have so much sugar, but Lycans never had problems with rotten teeth."

"Hmm, he reminds me of someone." I pointed to the board. "And I'm getting that someone the mint special."

She flashed me a smile of appreciation. "Thank you."

The line moved on. The lady ordered. A sweet tea and a mint coffee. The girl behind the counter took the order, then turned her attention to me. Her smile widened in recognition and I responded unwittingly, so used to the trading of smiles after all the months of pretending. Zara. She always added another squirt of syrup for Easton and told me where to find hot pink zebra print hair bands. I liked her.

"Nova! Good afternoon. Were you gardening?"

The woman beside me sucked in a breath. I felt her looking at me, unabashed in her staring.

"Hello." My voice was quieter, uncomfortable now. The café had been busy; I could smell the layers of people that had wandered in and out. So many, muddying together over the passing hours. "I was weeding down by the water."

"Ohh." She sighed. "The worst job."

"It keeps me busy," I lifted a shoulder, feeling the burn of the stranger's gaze on my face. "I have a free evening so I decided to get a coffee."

"Are you getting the usual black coffee and a special? Lux isn't with you?"

"Lux doesn't want anything." I confirmed. "She says drinking coffee this late keeps you up all night."

Zara bit down a smile. "I would have to agree with her there, Nova."

"Traitor." It was easy to trade words, knowing that no one was looking for a slip up of information.

Another towns-person walked in. I scrambled for their name when they greeted me warmly, with a voice crinkled by years of smoking. "Annabelle." I paid for my coffee and helped her sit. Her fingers, gnarled by age, gripped my hand with surprising strength.

"Thank you dear. Are you coming to the bingo tomorrow night? You help set up, but never participate."

"Bingo is Easton's thing." The words slipped from me, as easily as breathing. He had his quirks, his likes and I was beginning to know them as well as my own.

She made a face at me. "He's terrible at bingo."

"Bingo is about luck."

"I suspect he lets us win." Annabelle whispered conspiratorially, but it was loud enough for some other patrons to hear. They laughed and chimed in. Their Alpha let them win. He always came to bingo and let them win.

I didn't believe it for a second, but said nothing. I betted he was just a terrible player and had terrible luck.

My order was called. I took my coffees and left with a ringing call of goodbye. Lux was waiting outside the bakery, holding her bag of baked goods close to her chest.

"You're getting coffee and the sun is scorching." She clucked her tongue. "Your caffeine addiction is concerning."

I tipped my face up to the burning sun, remembering stories of my childhood. We had been too poor to go on holidays. I had worn threadbare clothes that Mam had kept together with precise care and shoes that leaked in the winter. But, that hadn't stopped me from hanging onto every word about holidays spent at the seaside. Burning gold sand, great waves of tumultuous water. Sea-air that burned. At least that's what one girl had told me. My friends had never made fun of the fact that I never went on holidays, because most of them didn't either. We were talented children, afforded the right to go to a good school and had been accepted despite our ragged clothes.

"Have you ever been to the seaside?" I asked her.

"Once."

I could see it, smell it in my mind. "I want to see the sea sometime. And the mountains."

I had already lived in deep forests. A rabid, starving thing that had slaughtered animals and lay on branches, watching the light filtering through the branches. I wanted to climb the mountains and see the world that I had missed. I wanted to sit at the sea-side, right at the end of the world.

Lux and I went back to the house, arms laden with goodies. Inside the house, I found Easton and a few other Lycans around the kitchen island. Flour coated their hands and laughter spilled out of them like water. I knocked my hip on the door, fondness melting my insides as I watched him. He was a messy baker and I didn't know what he was mangling with his hands, but the other Lycans in the room were drawn to him like moths to a light. He was so effortless in his brightness, his honesty. I didn't recognise all of them but I felt no prickle of a threat. Nicolas was amongst them, neater in his baking. Before him, I could see neat rows of scones placed on a tray.

Lux closed the front door and Easton looked up. His gaze found mine and his warm smile flickered, the brightness in his eyes melding to something dark and intimate. Heat flickered in my belly.

"Nova." The way he said my name didn't belong to full, happy kitchen. I imagined it in a dark room, with hot hands on bare skin. Not that I had much experience with that, but Easton tracked the rising blush and his hands stilled on the table.

"I brought you coffee." I was proud that my voice didn't tremble as my insides twisted.

"Thank you. What flavour is it today?"

The other Lycans had gone silent.

"Mint. Mostly sugar." I chided.

"My teeth won't rot."

"Lucky you." I braved the flour warzone to place the coffee cup beside him. My hand found the broad expanse of his back, nails curling to scrap through the thin fabric of his shirt. He continued to knead the dough, his broad, tanned hands coated in flour. "What are you baking?"

"Scones." He scoffed and the Lycans around the island rippled with laughter.

"Why scones?"

"It's our baking night for the bingo." He glanced down at me, eyes warm. "So, I'm going back to the old reliable. Scones."

"Scones." My stomach snarled at the thought of them, even though I had pinched three chocolate rolls on the walk back. Lux had swatted my hands, but she was no match for my hunger.

"I'm made cheese and chive." Blav showed me his perfectly formed scones already cooling on a rack. "I've duty down in the compound tonight, so I got my baking done early."

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. Tall and tough Lycans who on one side, were hunting down an evil group and on the other, were baking for the weekly bingo night. Lordie, I was glad I was working that night in the theatre. I was glad I saved Sunny and Darren's life.

Lux wandered in and was met with a chorus of hellos, all warm and honest. She clutched her pastries close, catching the hungry , curious eyes.

"I'm thinking of inviting Adken over for dinner tomorrow?" Easton told me. "I don't like the thought of him confined in that compound. We'll see how he gets on here."

"I don't think there is enough food in the house to feed the both of us." My tone was light, unbothered. "But that would be nice. At least I get away from thoughts of the Ravi."

"You've both been a monumental help." A Lycan who I didn't recognise spoke up. He was tall, with a dark, broad face and deep, solemn eyes that made him wise beyond years.

"I'm glad."

The conversation slipped into that of the Ravi. Of their moving's. Of their suspected whereabouts. My stomach churned as I listened, afraid to hope. It would dull my anger if I hoped so I wouldn't let it. I would hunt them, but I was also determined to live too.

"I invited Adken to come track the borders of Alpacina." Blav mentioned casually. "Next week. If the dinner goes well, surely we could let him out."

"Do we trust him?" Nicolas asked. "To allow him to roam the compound is one thing, but to let him out on the farmlands? He could run and vanish."

"He won't." I said with certainty.

"How do you know?" Nicolas asked, holding my gaze.

My jaw tightened. He had grown bold as things with Lux got better. "He and I promised to bring down the Ravi. We are each other's best chance, along with the help of the Alpha Supreme. He wants them destroyed just as badly as I do. I know that."

"Enough of the Ravi." Easton's tone was final, his voice low as he surveyed the floury Lycans at his centre island. "This is the kitchen in our home."

And that was that. The Lycans slipped into another conversation. I wandered to the music room, fingers dancing across ivory keys before I turned my attention to my homework. A piling list of maths and literacy that I struggled with. I snuggled into Easton's office chair while they were at bingo, delighting in his fancy ink pens that made me feel like my writing flowed across the page in an elegant scrawl.

It was dark when he returned. Lux was in her room and the creak of the door alerted me to his arrival. He was silent for someone so large. He loomed in the door, surprise flitting across his expression. He knocked a shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his arm. "Stealing state secrets?"

"I'm trying to remember how to divide." I held up a maths copy. "And failing I think."

He made a face. "I can't help you there. I failed maths twice."

"Hmmm." I hummed. "And you skated by on your good looks?"

He stroked the harsh ridges across his face. "Before a few Lycans landed lucky blows on my face, yes. I was devilishly handsome."

"Cocky." I tutted. "But not true. It isn't a was. You are handsome."

The silence that fell was heavy, tension crackling in the room. There was a tremble in my fingers as I began to close up my things with ink stained fingers. Easton watched every tiny movement, face shrouded by the low light in the room.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and stood. He didn't move from the door and as I straightened, his gaze roamed down my strawberry embroidered wrap dress. I had painted my nails a garish, lime green. Knee high socks, a staple comfort. A constant embrace. Bright, happy and free. Purple tipped hair. Walking across the office felt as I was wading through mud, my heart racing at his silent appraisal.

I only made it halfway across when I could handle it no longer. I stopped and took a breath. "You're looking at me strange."

His head tipped. "You look beautiful today."

"Just today?"

"You look beautiful every-day." His voice was low. Rough. He seemed to cross his arms tighter, his breathing hollowing.

"Show me then."

The gold in his eyes flashed. "Nova..."

"Easton."

He inched around the edge of the room, dragging his gaze from me. Frustration toiled in my gut, but for once, it was me treading on eggshells, wondering what to say. He didn't want to push, even though I could scent the heat under his skin, the need and hunger.

"I am not made of glass." I reminded him.

"I know that, Nova."

"You don't need to be careful with me."

"You could be made of the strongest metal on earth, forged by the fire of the sun and I would still be careful with you."

"Romantic." I clucked my tongue. "You don't need to punish yourself for what happened that day. Not anymore."

"I could hurt you again. Leave bruises on your skin. Fingerprints on your thighs, your neck. I have often underestimated my own strength."

"Maybe I want you to leave bruises on my skin. To trace and track the places you touched me."

Easton sucked in a breath, hand balling tight. He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. I grinned, sensing the thinning thread of his control. Knowing that my prey was close to exposing his throat, I went in for the final kill. I thumbed the strap of my dress, sliding it over the curve of my shoulder. "Maybe here?"

His gaze dropped, nostrils flaring.

I toyed with the hem of my skirt. "Or maybe down here?"

His jaw set. He took a step towards me and I yielded a step. He paused, but quickly spotted the challenge in my eyes. I retreated from his advance, not out of fear. Anticipation was an inferno in my gut, searing through my veins. My spine hit the shelves of his bookcase. He was on me in the next inhale of shuddering breath, a hand tracing up the line of my throat. His thumb stroked my pulse, softly pressing against it.

"You were a vision today. The scent of sun on your skin, the brightness in your eyes." He murmured, his touch soft and devoted.

"The sugar has gone to your head." I accused without bite. "I had dirt on my hands and my clothes. Sunburn on my neck."

"So beautiful." He said reverently.

"All words, no action." I breathed.

Not truth and those golden eyes flared, recognising the bait I had lain. His smile sharpened and he took it. His hand twisted in my growing hair, yanking me in for a kiss that burst through me like fire. He tasted like mint and coffee, his mouth sealing over mine with a possession that he had been afraid to show me before. I could do nothing but hold on, hands curling into his cotton shirt. The scent of him was consuming me, the sound of his low and throaty growl maddening me.

Any semblance of thought fell apart as he brought the broad, hard length of his body against me. He was bent over me, pressing me against the bookcase. I was caged by his body and yet, I had never felt so utterly free.

A hand, spanning my thigh, hitched up my skirt. His hand slid under the lace of my underwear, teeth nipping my lower lip.

"Bring me upstairs." I breathed against his mouth.

The scrape of teeth against my ear. His thumb pressed harder on my thrumming pulse, the dark sound rolling through him only serving to make me certain. "That's not a decision to be made in the moment."

Still so reserved. Still determined to try and do the best for me. I eased back and despite the large hand gripping my throat, he let me. My skull bumped against the edge of the hard shelf, but I caught his gaze and I held it. His golden eyes were heavy and dark, but still cautious. Such a good man.

"I trust you."

He kissed me again and a broad hand gathered the fabric of my dress, his knuckles brushing against my heated skin. "You trust me."

"I trust you."

He eased back, the taste of him still lingering on my mouth.

"Well then." He breathed, scouring my expression. "You trust me."

Like I weighed no more than the bookbag I discarded on the table, he swept me up into his arms. Even with the added weight, he made no sound as he climbed the stairs. I muffled a giggle, turning my face into his chest. He flashed a grin down at me, even as his heart thundered inside his chest.

Softly, he opened his door and we listened for a moment to the heavy quiet of the house. He set me down at the entrance, a final question as he moved into his bedroom. 'Are you sure?'

I stepped inside. The dark shadows of his room muffled the sprawling room. A grand bed, large enough for the imposing Alpha. Darkness. In all corners. I clicked on the light, curious, and then I saw it.

I stared up at his ceiling. My heart was furious inside my chest, but it wasn't fear. I had felt it enough to know that it wasn't. His walls were bare and plain, even though he had so carefully painted the walls of the rooms of his friends. I had thought maybe, that it was because he didn't do things for himself.

But he had painted his room.

His ceiling.

The ceiling was swirling dark navy, darkening at the far corners. It was broken only by the colourful bloom of constellations, the star system painted in painstaking detail across his long room. From the planets, to the bloom of meteors. Then the stars, burning bright.

A supernova then, burning purple and blue, interspersed with red and hints of green. Colour. Colour so bright against the darkness. It wasn't my face painted, but I saw me there.

When he lay in bed, he saw the stars. Saw beyond the world, to space stretched out to infinity before him.

And still, he saw me.

Easton was quiet as I looked down, my heart in my throat. "You painted me."

"Yes."

I knew then, with a curl of violent certainty, that I wanted to be here with him. In this room, with the shadows falling like silk across the carpeted floor. With the moonlight shining through such a tiny crack and illuminating the words that he had not spoken. All because he was afraid he would scare me away, but he was an open book where I was a shut one.

Something inside me cracked, the pain exquisite.

Easton didn't move as I approached him, smoothing my hands up across his chest, mapping the distance. Soaking in the warmth of his burning body. He shuddered nostrils flaring as my fingers skim along his shoulders. There were ridges under his shirt – scars that not even he could heal,

He only moved as I tugged on his shirt, letting me pull it off him. I exposed his scars, purple and vicious against his tanned skin. Another tattoo. A supernova tattooed onto his skin. Another piece of me. I had never left him, just as he had never left me. Both tormented by the thought of the other, but for vastly different reasons.

He caught my wrist as I reached to trace the supernova. "Nova, I am not that infallible. Don't - I don't want to make a mistake with you but if you keep touching me..."

In the dim light, I can see the darkness muting those burning gold eyes.

"It won't be a mistake."