Chapter 15: Gross, Gross, Gross — Then Worse

THUM.

The sound hit her before the visual did. Every slave in the locker room. Fist to chest. Standing. Women she’d never met, from packs she’d never visited, with no reason to care were standing with their hands over their hearts like she’d earned it.

They knew what talking back to an elder cost. They knew it better than the crowd did because they wore the scars from lessons just like it. The fact they were standing here, fists to their chests, risking being seen, risking punishment, risking everything for a gesture that would never be recorded and never be rewarded, meant more than any standing ovation from ten thousand strangers ever could.

Nova’s eyes burned. She pressed her fist to her chest because opening her mouth would have ended her.

WHAM.

On the other side of the locker room, the doors blew open.

Every fist fell at the same time, including Nova’s, just as Celeste stormed into the room with the energy of a saint descending into the underworld. The sacrifice was enormous. The smell alone was a war crime. But Celeste was here because someone had to be and it was her burden.

Two slaves scrambled out of her path. A third wasn’t fast enough and got shoulder-checked into a locker.

"Gross. Gross. Gross." She said it once for the room and once for the concept of being here at all.

A slave near the sink dropped her head immediately. Another one pressed herself flat against the wall. Celeste’s eyes locked onto Nova the way a missile locks onto the only target that matters.

"You think that was cute out there? You think that little performance was going to go unanswered?"

She closed the distance in four strides and slammed Nova against the locker door hard enough to rattle the vents. A knee drove up between her thighs and pinned her there.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doing."

Nova turned her face away on instinct. Celeste followed it, mouth at her ear, breath hot enough to count as a warning.

"Look at me." Celeste pulled back just enough to see her face.

Nova looked. Celeste was every inch her mother’s daughter: cheekbones, jaw, eyes, and a composure so thin Nova could see the violence behind it.

"You walked into my arena. You let ten thousand wolves hear you talk like you were allowed to have a thought. And then you stood there under that hood like you didn’t know what you were showing them."

"I didn’t—"

Celeste’s hand clapped over her mouth. Not gentle. Thumb at the hinge of Nova’s jaw, fingers biting her cheek.

"Don’t. You don’t get to narrate this." She leaned in. "Father said cloak. And you still gave them a sliver of face like you were desperate for it. Were you? Did it feel good? All those wolves looking. All that noise. You like being looked at now, 7709?"

Nova shook her head under the hand. The motion made Celeste’s knee ride higher and she let out a laugh.

"There it is."

She dropped the hand from Nova’s mouth only to replace it with her own mouth at the corner of it, not a kiss, a claim with teeth almost involved.

Nova’s eyes widened in horror.

"Please," she gasped.

Celeste’s eyes flashed gold. She pulled away but her knee stayed.

"Please what, 7709?"

"Please, don’t."

A girl stepped off the wall. Small. Stupid-brave.

Celeste didn’t look away from Nova. "If she takes one more step, you eat her lashes. All of them. Tonight."

The girl froze.

Nova shook her head at her, hard, even with Celeste’s weight still between her legs. Don’t.

The girl stepped back with tears in her eyes.

Celeste held Nova there a second longer than she needed to. Then she eased back just enough for Nova’s shoes to find the floor, and not an inch more.

The back of her hand connected with Nova’s face so hard her vision whited out. The sound bounced off the locker room walls. Nova’s head snapped sideways and the taste of copper flooded her mouth before the pain even registered.

She caught herself, swallowed the blood, and stayed standing.

"Father’s working on getting your scores struck. But you better pray he’s successful."

Celeste leaned in close enough that Nova could smell her perfume. Then she spit in Nova’s face.

It landed on her cheek.

Nova didn’t wipe it. Not because she didn’t want to. Because wiping it meant Celeste would hit her again and the next one would be worse. So she let it sit there, sliding down her jaw, while Celeste watched it travel with the satisfaction of a girl who had never once been told no.

Celeste turned and made her way to the door with her chin up.

The door shut.

Nobody moved.

Celeste’s spit was still sliding down Nova’s jaw. Blood was pooling behind her teeth.

Fifty women who had just put fists to their chests for her were standing in the same room where they’d watched her get pinned to a locker and couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it. 𝘧𝓇ℯℴ𝓂

The nearest girl came forward with a rag already shaking.

Nova took it with a trembling hand.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She wiped her cheek. One drag for the spit. One for the blood. Tears fell down her face that she couldn’t stop.

She hadn’t planned on any of the replays happening. There were also bombs supposedly in this arena that may or may not go off, she missed her cue to faint for them, and she had no way to leave the slave tunnel after because her tampered cuffs would trigger the alarm.

She was overwhelmed. There was no other word for it. This was not her day.

Her hand was shaking so badly the rag almost slipped and the girl’s hand came up under hers and steadied it without a word.

Nova didn’t notice at first. She looked at her. The girl looked back and gave her a nod.

WHAM.

The doors blew open again and it was not Celeste.

A man the size of an Alpha filled the doorway. Immediately, his eyes landed on Nova.

"7709. With me. Now."