Chapter 177: Mystery Solved (She Lifted Her Glass)

"Did she tell you that?" The High Luna scoffed, swiveling toward Nova.

Maria’s fork stopped moving. Tavian’s glass stopped moving. The only thing still moving was the High Luna’s mouth and it was heading somewhere dangerous.

"Nancy, really, dear? That is a stretch. The two of you look nothing alike. Bold of a former slave claiming her blood runs Alpha."

"I did not claim that, High Luna," Nova gently clarified. "I believe Elder Vaelstrom is referring to a theory Maria and I discussed between ourselves, and one for which there is no proof. Rest assured, my blood is in all likelihood very ordinary."

She defaulted to Freya’s formal title in this setting, and there was not a trace of heat in anything she said. The High Luna stared at her in open surprise, very likely because Nancy had not strung together this many words all evening, and because Nancy appeared entertained by the exchange rather than wounded by it. Nancy had seen a great deal of shit this week. The High Luna did not crack the list.

A cruel High Luna ranked, generously, somewhere below the lingerie assassin and SWAT.

The table experienced the rare phenomenon of every person recalibrating their opinion of the same woman at the same time.

Maverick’s head came around towards her at the same instant Alpha Thunderfang’s did. Both immediately looked away. But the damage was done. Nova read the room. She was missing something.

Celeste had been arrested, which meant Celeste had bloodwork, and Nova did the quiet arithmetic without letting it reach her face.

"Or, in light of recent bloodwork, I could also be mistaken. Either way, stranger things have happened this week and the week is still young." Nova amended, lifted her glass, and toasted the High Luna with her own phrase, which was the kind of move you only make when you’ve stopped being afraid of the person across the table. "To the twists and turns of fate, as you put it, High Luna."

The High Luna pounced on the word bloodwork like a cat on a laser.

"Bloodwork. What exactly is that supposed to mean, Nancy?"

Nova did not flinch.

"Bloodwork is standard procedure during an arrest, High Luna. But before that, it was conducted by Astra aboard the hover yacht. Derek and the Alpha both were a match and graciously donated blood, which saved my life."

The table let out a collective breath.

Maverick sat up straighter, watching his legal wife outclass a High Luna and feeling a certain way about it.

The High Luna stared at Nova. Nova stared back and produced a warm smile. "I count myself very fortunate that they were both willing to donate to a slave at all, and more fortunate still that both proved a match." She turned to Alpha Thunderfang with warmth that was genuine and brief before she faced forward again.

She did not expect anything back from that. But to her surprise, Alpha Thunderfang answered.

"It was our honor. It’s not every day someone is a match for my blood."

"That remains unproven until I am shown evidence," the High Luna cut in, unamused and unimpressed by that. "And Nancy. That is not what you meant, dear. That comment had nothing to do with you being related to Alpha Starborne. Out with it."

Out with it, the High Luna commanded, having correctly sensed Nova was holding a card and incorrectly assumed yelling would produce it.

"My apologies, High Luna. I meant only that perhaps it was the Alpha blood in my veins that rendered me compatible with theirs."

Across the table, Dante’s eyebrows rose with the quiet appreciation of a man watching a young woman handle something most would fumble.

"Do not play coy with me, girl. You said bloodwork. Why."

The irony of that statement was not lost on Nova, considering the woman who delivered it was playing coy with the table herself.

"Gran." Alpha Thunderfang’s tone carried a warning.

Freya set her wine down, unbothered. "The results from Celeste’s bloodwork are what she was referring to. She is simply too polite to say it aloud." She glanced at Nova. "And your instinct was correct, dear. It confirmed she is your biological sister."

Dante turned his head slowly to look at his wife. Freya gave him a pointed look right back clearly saying, you are entertained whether you admit it or not. Settle in, dear.

Freya gestured toward Nova with her wine glass, casual, the way a woman gestures toward someone she has already decided belongs in her circle. "She is a straight shooter, this one. She appreciates one in return."

"I stand corrected. I confess I am a touch perplexed as to how that was never flagged before now. Though it would neatly explain the fertility markers during the Moonfire. Mystery solved." Nova lifted her glass and tipped it toward Freya. "Thank you, Freya."

She used Freya’s name deliberately instead of her title there in front of the High Luna, fully aware it would needle the woman, and entirely at peace with that.

The High Luna’s face was doing several things at once as her entire body went rigid.

"Why, precisely, would Celeste have bloodwork done?"

The silence that followed was the kind of silence where a table of people all know the answer, and are aware that each other knows the answer, and have all decided simultaneously to take that to the grave.

The wheels in Nova’s mind were already turning.

The High Luna liked control. If Celeste were genuinely missing, if the woman had simply failed to arrive at dinner, the High Luna would have dispatched someone to retrieve her before the soup course. She was baiting the table, or testing it. There was zero chance she had not heard about the arrest. She had invoked Celeste’s name a dozen times tonight, seated an empty chair, guarded a plate of duck, and not one person at this table had corrected her. Not once.

Nova had not yet decided how she intended to handle that.

But the brave version of herself was out to play.

She blamed the wine.

The wine had been blamed for a great many things throughout history. Tonight it was being blamed for the slow, deliberate emergence of a woman who had been quiet all week and was now choosing, with the help of a very good vintage, to stop.