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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TAI

I lean against the hospital bed frame, my well of magic scraping the bottom of the barrel. Nova hovers beside me, her worried eyes flitting between Luka’s still form and the monitors displaying his fragile recovery. She’s doing everything in her power to look detached, but her clenched fists and stiff shoulders betray her.

It’s a lot like how I was when I’d learned my dad had walked out on my mom and me as soon as she started chemo. I’ll never forgive him for that. He’s as good as dead to me.

“You want to stay until he wakes up?” My voice comes out quieter than I intended, but it’s enough to break her trance.

She glances at me, startled, then crosses her arms. “Do you think he even will?”

The question stings. There’s nothing more I’d like than to have her help me refuel my magic, so she never has to question if I’ve done enough.

“It’s time to decide if you want me to use your father’s feather.”

It’s a quick little procedure that will embed the fae feather into his skin, so should he die, he will come back to life.

Nova's eyes widen in panic, her arms dropping to her sides. "I?—"

Fae feathers are priceless, especially from High King of the Fae. I pull out the beautiful, glowing blue feather from my jacket and hold it up to her.

“Your choice, Your Highness. What’ll it be?”

She visibly flinches at the formal address—she hates that title. Still, the jolt is enough to break her spiral. Nova stares at the large plume in my hand, uncertainty and anxiety warring in her expression. After a long moment, she reaches out and gently takes it, cradling it like a fragile treasure.

She pulls air into her lungs and meets my stare. "Do it." She squares her shoulders, handing it back to me. "If he needs this and we can’t get to him before it’s too late, I’ll never forgive myself."

I don’t want to move all his cords and tubes to put this on his rib cage where these usually go, so I settle on using his forearm. His arm lies pale against the white hospital sheets, though most of it is mottled with bruises and scratches. I place the tip of the feather against his skin and chant the ancient words of the ritual.

The plume begins to glow with a soft blue light, its edges shimmering like captured moonlight. I sink the tip of the feather into Luka’s forearm, and the reaction is immediate.

His body jerks against the bed, his muscles locking tight as the feather begins to sink into his skin. The magic works fast, threading beneath the surface, visible as pale veins of light spidering outward. His monitors react instantly, the rhythm of his heartbeat skyrocketing into a panicked frenzy.

“Bloody hell,” Callum mutters, moving swiftly to the monitor. His fingers fumble for the mute button before he finally presses it, silencing the shrill noise. “That’s … normal, aye?”

“It’s the process,” I grit out, my voice hoarse from the strain of channeling. “It’s painful. Always is.”

The feather dissolves further, disappearing inch by inch as the glow intensifies. The raised pattern it leaves behind pulses with an otherworldly light, the edges of the imprint burning into his skin. Luka’s head jerks to the side, and his body arches as if trying to escape the searing pain. But there’s nowhere for him to go—he’s tethered to this moment, to the agony that comes with being tied to a fae feather.

Nova flinches as his fingers claw at the sheets, his nails scraping audibly against the fabric. “Tai?—”

“I know,” I snap, though the edge in my tone isn’t directed at her. “It has to hurt. That’s how it binds. Pain anchors the magic.”

Her hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide and wet as she watches her father writhe. Callum steps closer to her side, his expression tight, but he says nothing, letting her work through whatever emotions are clawing their way to the surface.

The final stage begins when the feather vanishes, sinking beneath Luka’s skin with a soundless crackle of energy. The raised embossing takes shape—an exact replica of the feather, intricate and faintly glowing, etched into his forearm like a brand. His body bucks one last time, every muscle straining as the magic locks into place.

The pain is undeniable. Even unconscious, he thrashes violently, his heart rate monitor screaming again. Callum leans over and slams the silence button a second time, his knuckles white around the edge of the monitor. “How much longer?” he snaps.

“Just a few more seconds.” My voice shakes with exhaustion, the ritual draining every ounce of magic I have left. I press my palm over the embossed feather, chanting the closing words of the spell.

Luka’s body begins to settle, the convulsions fading as the glow of the mark dims to a light blue. The room grows eerily quiet, save for the now-steady beep of the heart monitor. The tension in the air doesn’t dissipate, though—it lingers in the wake of my exhaustion.

Nova steps closer, her breath catching as she stares at the feather mark. Her fingers hover over it, hesitant to touch. “Does it always look like that?” she whispers.

“Yes,” I manage, lowering my hand from his arm. “It’s done. The magic’s bound. He’ll come back if he dies once.”

Her head snaps to my face. “What do you mean?”

I meet her eyes, forcing myself to stand tall despite the weariness threatening to pull me down. “The feather will save him just once. He’ll need a new feather if he uses this one up.”

“Oh.”

I can’t make out her expression. “Do you want to have them call us if he wakes?” I hold up the burner Earth phone her parents lent us. “We can stick around for the rest of the weekend, or for however long you need.”

Her eyes turn glassy as she stares up at me. “I—I d-d-don’t know.”

Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her shed a single tear, and it’s about to track down her cheek any moment now. She’s normally very decisive.

I cup her face. “It’s okay not to know. How about we find a hotel for tonight, and we can reassess in the morning?” Her family has given us plenty of resources for an extended stay if necessary.

She nods.

“I can book us a room while you give the phone number to the nurse’s station,” Callum offers, his warm eyes on Nova.

Before I can answer, a low rumble reverberates through the floor.

Nova and Callum go rigid, their heads whipping toward the door.

“What the hell was that?” Nova whispers, her eyes narrowing.

A second later, the sound of raised voices filters through the thin hospital walls, muffled but growing louder. A crash follows—a heavy one—and then the unmistakable hum of magic prickles in the air.

“Stay here,” I order, pushing off the bed despite my exhaustion. My magic feels like it’s been stretched too thin, but whatever’s happening out there, I can’t ignore it.

“Like hell,” Nova hisses, already moving toward the door.

I step in front of her, blocking her path. “You don’t have magic. If this goes sideways?—”

“I don’t need magic to stab someone,” she snaps, her defiance flaring like a strike of flint.

Callum steps up, brushing her shoulder. “He’s right, lass. Let him check it out. Ye dinnae want tae run into somethin’ blind.”

The fact that he agrees with me for once almost throws me, but I don’t waste the moment.

“Hide,” I bark. “Both of you. Now.”

“Wait!” Nova grabs my jacket, stopping me. “You don’t have magic right now either, you can’t go out there!”

She has a point. Fuck . “I can’t just ignore it, someone is using magic out there, in front of the humans if the sounds are anything to go by,” I insist.

Nova gives me a frustrated little growl before she turns towards Callum, cups a hand behind his head, and yanks him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

His eyes widen, but he quickly melts into her, his hands finding Nova’s waist and pulling her closer. I look away, trying to ignore the sharp pang of jealousy in my chest. I know what she’s doing. She’s trying to fuel my magic while finding comfort in the one person who can stay with her. But knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less. Because no matter how much I want to be the one she clings to, the one she kisses like that—I can’t. Not until we break the fae deal.

And it’s killing me.

Lust pours off them both in thick waves, fueling my magic, but just a trickle.

She pulls back, ignoring the way Callum’s swollen lips chase hers. “Is that enough?” she whispers, panting.

It’d be enough if she kissed me, but we can’t?—

Nova closes the distance between us in one stride, standing on her tiptoes, and dragging her tongue along my neck, her blunt little teeth nibbling at my earlobe. I shudder, desire surging through me, my magic swelling with the force of it. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just enough to sting.

The magic rushes into me, my veins singing with the sudden influx of power. I grab her hips, wanting to pull her closer, to devour her, but she’s already dancing out of reach, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“Go,” she says breathlessly, a satisfied smirk blooming on her face when she glances down at my tented pants. “Before I drag you back here.”

I swallow hard, trying to regain my composure. Another blast of magic rattles the windows, yanking me back to reality. “Both of you, hide!”

Nova hesitates, her expression torn between anger and something softer—concern, maybe? But Callum pulls her back toward the shadows of the room, murmuring something low in her ear.

I don’t wait to see if they comply. I throw up a quick barrier over the room, sealing them in with an invisible shield of protection, before stepping into the hallway.

The pandemonium hits me like a tidal wave. Nurses and orderlies scatter, some ducking behind counters, others rushing toward patients to usher them to safety. A heavy metal cart lies overturned in the center of the hallway, its contents strewn across the floor, and smoke curls from the scorch marks lining the walls.

At the far end of the hall, a group of guards stand frozen just outside one of the ICU rooms. One of them shouts into a radio, while another draws a baton, though it’s clear neither has any idea what they’re dealing with.

Then the roar comes—low, guttural, and feral enough to make every hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Through the shattered glass of the ICU door, I catch a glimpse of the source. A male—or what used to be a male—thrashes against the restraints of the hospital bed. His eyes glow, veins pulsing with an eerie, molten light beneath the surface. Magic radiates off him, untamed, sparking against the metal fixtures in the room.

The officers take a cautious step closer, and the male—or half-shifted wolf, judging by the flash of sharp teeth and the patches of hair on his hands—lunges against the restraints. The sheer force sends the bed skidding several feet across the floor, and the magic surges outward in a burst of heat and light.

One of the officers goes flying, slamming into the wall hard enough to leave a dent.

“Gods,” I mutter under my breath.

This isn’t just magic. This is volatile. If he keeps this up, he’s going to blow the whole damn ward apart.

I throw up another barrier to block the rest of the hallway from the ICU, muting the scene for the terrified humans and keeping the magic contained. The officers bang against the invisible wall, their mouths moving in angry shouts I can’t hear.

I push open the shattered door and step inside.

The air whirs, heavy with the scent of magic, and the wolf’s eyes snap to me. Golden, wild, and filled with fear and rage. A scar bisects one of his brows. His hands flex against the restraints, claws tearing at the fabric, and his teeth gnash as another growl rumbles deep in his chest.

“Easy,” I say, keeping my voice low as I approach.

His scowl narrows, and I feel the full force of his magic push against me, testing, searching for weakness.

I grit my teeth and hold steady. “You’re going to kill yourself if you keep this up. And everyone else in the process.”

The magic surges again, and I raise a hand, summoning what little I have left to counter it. Runes bloom in the air between us, glowing a soft blue as they twist and spiral into a calming spell. I’ve taken to carrying these runes filled with my magic when I’m at a surplus for times like this. I’ve never been more grateful for them.

The wolf hesitates, his thrashing slowing as the magic takes hold.

“That’s it,” I murmur, taking another step closer. “You don’t need to fight me. Just breathe.”

For a moment, it seems to work. His shoulders relax slightly, and the golden light in his veins dims.

But then his eyes harden, and a snarl tears from his throat.

The restraints snap as he fully shifts.

“Shit.”

The wolf lunges, claws outstretched, and I barely have time to throw up a shield before he crashes into it. The impact sends me stumbling back, and the runes waver, their light flickering under the strain.

I need more power.

But I don’t have any to spare.

The wolf’s magic pulses again, the force of it shattering the remaining fixtures in the room, and I realize with a sinking certainty that I’m not going to be able to contain this alone.

“Nova,” I whisper under my breath, hoping the barrier I left on the room will hold.