Beneath the Alpha's Moon

Nova’s POV

I never knew magic could feel like love draped in warmth and kindness. The morning after Elizabeth checked in on me, Eldur handed me a velvet box lined with starry silk, just before we headed off to school. "For your eyes," he said with a quiet smile. In that moment, I knew—I was going to love this man for the rest of my life. And if what he said about my immortality was true, that might just be forever.

Inside were glasses—no, not just glasses. They shimmered faintly under the light, the lenses tinted with a pearly glow. The frame was silver, impossibly lightweight, and cool to the touch.

"They’ll protect your eyes," he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face with fingers that lingered. "From the visions. The sharpness. It should dull the pain."

I blinked up at him. "You made these?"

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Pulled from starlight and tempered with runestone dust. Took me all night."

"All night?"

"Don’t look too impressed. I also drank four cups of firebrew and threatened to curse the spectacles when they wouldn’t adjust to your aura."

I laughed—God, I needed to laugh—and slipped them on. The world softened at once. No more stabbing clarity. No more burning in my skull when I looked at a faraway street sign or counted every eyelash on my classmate’s face. I could see. Just enough. Just right.

"You’re a miracle worker," I whispered.

He smirked, but there was something tight around his mouth. "Don’t forget the ear muffins."