Page 15

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

NOVA

T he moment we step out of the alley, the world crashes into me, loud, fast, and overwhelming.

It’s not the cold—it’s the noise. Engines growl and screech as cars and buses zip by, faster than any winged beast in the fae realm. A truck roars past, rattling its load of something metallic and loose, and I flinch despite myself. As each new vehicle type passes, Callum whispers to explain what it is.

The smell is just as overwhelming: exhaust fumes thick and acrid, mixing with the dewy scent of wet concrete and a trace of fried food wafting from a restaurant nearby.

I keep my eyes forward, refusing to let my wide-eyed stare linger on the blinking lights or the humans bustling along the sidewalk, shoulders hunched against the wind. But the temptation is strong—too strong. My head tilts of its own accord, and I catch sight of a sleek black car speeding past, its tires hissing against the wet road.

“Eyes up, lass,” Callum murmurs beside me, his words more amused than anything. “Ye look like a bairn seein’ snow for the first time.”

I scowl at him, stuffing my hands deeper into my coat pockets. “It’s not every day I see magic-less carriages that belches smoke.”

Carriages aren’t really a thing in the fae realms, either, but I saw them in an old timey movie in my sister’s theater in her cave over the summer.

“They’re called cars.” He chuckles under his breath.

“Obviously,” I mutter, but my attention lands back on another vehicle—a small, boxy one painted all black. A yellow-orange TAXI sign on its roof pulls over to the curb, and I catch a glimpse of humans climbing out, chatting as though the moving deathtrap is perfectly normal.

“I think I see the hospital sign.” Tai’s voice snaps me out of my trance. He’s already a step ahead, his posture rigid, scanning the street like he expects danger to leap out from behind the parked cars.

I force my eyes back to the sidewalk in front of me. The hospital looms ahead, a wide building with too many windows, its washed-out ochre walls blending into the gray sky. The entrance stands out, its signage stark against the drizzle, guiding the steady flow of people in and out.

As we approach, Callum takes the lead, his stride purposeful but casual. Tai keeps close to my side, his shoulders brushing against mine as if to ground me—or himself.

Automatic doors whoosh open as we step inside, and I’m hit with a new wave of sensory overload. The scent of antiseptic and industrial cleaner stings my nose, mingling with traces of blood. The overhead lights are clinical, reflecting off the polished tile floor and making the white walls feel even harsher.

Humans mill about—some seated in rows of uncomfortable-looking chairs, others standing in clusters or hurrying through the halls. A child cries somewhere to my left, the high-pitched wail setting my teeth on edge, urging me to pick the baby up and soothe it.

“Over here.” Callum jerks his chin toward the reception desk.

A man in scrubs sits behind it, typing something into a computer. He glances up as we approach, his tired eyes narrowing slightly as he takes us in.

“Can I help you?” His voice carries no warmth, just obligation.

Tai steps forward, his movements unhurried but purposeful. “Yes.” He adjusts his cuffs, his tone smooth as ever. “We’re here to see Luka Donovi?. He was admitted recently.”

The receptionist frowns, his fingers pausing over the keyboard. “Are you family?”

“Yes.” The lie rolls off Tai’s incubus tongue, infused with more charm than the human has seen in his whole life.

The man’s eyes linger between us, his brow furrowing at the odd mix we make, pupils blown wide as they settle on me. “I’ll need some identification.”

“Of course.” Tai reaches into his coat pocket. But instead of pulling out anything tangible, he leans in slightly, his magic unfurling in a soft, invisible wave that ripples through the air.

The receptionist’s expression slackens for a brief moment, his tired eyes glazing over. “No need,” he mutters, turning back to his computer. “Room 314. Take the elevator to the third floor, then it’s down the hall to your right.”

“Thank you.” Tai inclines his head as he pulls back.

The spell dissipates as quickly as it came, and the receptionist blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it before returning to his work.

I glance at Tai as we head toward the elevators, my curiosity bubbling up despite myself. “Does that work on everyone?”

“No.” He smirks. “Most humans and fae, though you can resist if you try.”

“Convenient,” Callum mutters, jabbing the elevator button.

“Guess we didn’t even need to get married.”

Callum raises a brow. “I don’t ken about that.”

The doors slide open with a soft ding, and we step inside. The small space feels cramped and stinks of cheap perfume. I lean against the wall, my thoughts racing as the elevator lurches upward. There aren’t many of these in Bedlam. Most of them are on Sundahlia, where witches from Earth usually settle.

In a few moments, I’ll come face-to-face with the man who, for better or worse, played a part in making me who I am.

My stomach twists, a knot of nerves and anticipation that no amount of deep breaths can loosen.

“Ye alright?” Callum’s voice is softer now, his teasing tone replaced by something gentler.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. All day, I’ve been able to tuck my emotions into the back of my mind, leaning into the easy camaraderie with Callum and Tai, but now that we’re here, I can no longer ignore reality.

The elevator dings again, and the doors slide open to reveal a long, sterile hallway. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, and the quiet murmur of voices drifts from behind the closed doors that line the corridor.

“This way,” Tai says, taking the lead as we step out.

Each step feels heavier than the last as we approach Room 314. The number is printed in bold black letters on a small plaque beside the door, its simplicity almost mocking.

“We’ve got to stop at the nurse’s station first.” Callum gestures down the hall. “They’ll let us in his room.”

“Shouldn’t we just go in there now without seeing anyone? Do the ritual and get out of here?” I whisper.

Tai shakes his head. "It's not that simple. We can't just barge in, unannounced. There are protocols in place, and if we don't follow them, we'll draw unwanted attention."

My lungs feel too tight, each breath harder to pull in. Callum's hand finds the small of my back, a reassuring gesture that helps steady my wild, racing heart.

We approach the nurse's station, where a middle-aged human with short, slicked-back hair sits behind a desk. She looks up as we near, her eyes narrowing.

"Can I help you?" Her voice is clipped, efficient.

Tai clears his throat while his fingers skim the little wooden carving on the desk. A small heart. “We’re here to see our father. Room 314.”

“Can you confirm your father’s name?”

“Luka Donovi?.”

The nurse nods, tapping a few keys on her keyboard. “And your names?”

“I’m Tai Donovi?, and this is my sister Novaleigh Mackenzie, and her husband, Callum Mackenzie.”

She studies the screen for a moment before looking back at us. “I’ll need some identification, please.”

Tai leans over her desk, a smirk on his face as his magic tingles in the air. “No, I don’t think you do. Just go ahead and show us to his room, please, then leave us be.”

The nurse blinks, her expression faltering for a moment before she nods. “Of course, right this way.” She stands, leading us down the corridor towards my father’s room.

We stop outside Room 314. The nurse unlocks the door with a key card and steps aside. "Let me know if you need anything," she says flatly, before turning and walking away.

Tai rests his palm against my cheek. “If you feel uncomfortable, change your mind, or want to leave, at any point in this process, you let me know, okay?”

I nod, blinking back the tears stinging my eyes.

My hand hovers near the handle. My heart pounds in my chest, loud enough that I’m sure Tai and Callum can hear it.

This is it.

With a deep breath, I push the door open.