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CHAPTER TWENTY

NOVA

W hen the world rights itself again, I’m crouched low to the ground, my breathing a shallow rasp in my ears. The hotel room feels smaller, suffocating, like the walls have drawn closer. My heart hammers against my ribcage, too fast, too loud. The cool press of the floor beneath my hands—no, not hands, paws—is the first clue that everything’s changed.

The next is Tai.

He stands across the room, his expression wary. His wings, normally hidden behind his glamour, are fully out, shadows spilling off his towel-clad form. One hand rests on his hip, the other raised slightly, as though he’s not sure whether to approach or defend himself.

“Nova,” he says softly, his tone measured, soothing. “You’re alright. It’s just … new. But you’re safe.”

The words scrape against my heightened senses, his voice too loud, too sharp, each syllable a pinprick against my nerves. I try to respond, but what comes out is a low, keening howl, something foreign and feral that startles even me.

I backpedal instinctively, the bedframe knocking against my flank as I glance down. My limbs feel alien, too long and too powerful. And purple ! My claws scratch against the hardwood, and my tail—gods, there’s a tail—flicks in agitation.

Tai takes a cautious step forward. “Nova, you have to focus. I need you to listen to me.”

I want to yell at him, to tell him I don’t know how to focus when everything is too much—too loud, too bright, too overwhelming. Instead, my ears flatten against my skull, and my body shifts into a defensive crouch, a low snarl building in my throat. I’m not me. Not anymore.

Then I remember Callum.

He left. Alone. My ears swivel toward the door as the sounds of the world outside hit me all at once: distant footsteps, muffled voices, the loud beep of an alarm. My Highlander’s scent lingers in the air, strong and close, and something primal takes over. I bolt.

“Nova, wait!” Tai’s voice follows me, but it’s too late.

I crash through the door, the wood splintering around me. As I propel myself forward, my paws digging into the carpet, the hallway distorts in a rush of movement. The stairs are a blur—two flights in a single leap. The air outside is cold, welcome against the heat of my fur, and damp with the promise of rain.

Callum’s scent leads me down the street, weaving through the throng of humans oblivious to the storm surging within me. My claws scrape against the pavement as I sprint, dodging a startled pedestrian who jumps back with shouts of alarm. His face barely registers; all I can see is the trace of Callum, leading me further and further away.

I spot him at the corner, his tall frame hunched against the wind. Relief floods me, mingled with panic. I skid to a stop, my claws sparking against the concrete.

He hears me. His head jerks up, and when he sees me, his eyes widen in disbelief. His entire body stiffens, like an animal caught by a predator. For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe. The wind kicks up around us, tugging at his jacket, but his feet stay rooted to the spot.

“What in the bloody hell ...” His voice is barely more than a whisper, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. No wolves. Not in Scotland. Not for centuries. But here I am—massive, wild, and unmistakably real.

But purple.

Callum’s hand instinctively goes to his pocket. Not that he’s armed—he doesn’t need to be, not against humans—but he looks ready to grab whatever might give him an edge. His other hand rises slowly, as if to keep me from charging.

"Steady, now," he murmurs, his tone calm but watchful. "Not lookin’ for a fight."

I tilt my head, my ears twitching at the sound of his voice. It’s strange hearing him speak to me like this—like I’m a threat, like I’m something other. The wolf in me recoils at his fear, an instinctual pang of guilt twisting in my gut.

I take a hesitant step forward, lowering my head. A soft whine escapes me, unbidden, but Callum doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes dart to my claws, then to my teeth, and I can almost see the thought forming: Hospital wolf.

“Shite,” he mutters, the word hoarse. “Yer one o’ them, aren’t ye? The wolf fae.”

I huff, exhaling a short burst of air, trying to shake my head. Trying to show him I’m not. Not exactly. But how can I make him understand when I can’t even explain it to myself?

Is that what the fuck I am?

I take another step, this time letting my tail sway slightly behind me. It’s awkward, foreign, but it feels like the right thing to do. Non-threatening. Friendly, even. But Callum tenses, his weight shifting onto the balls of his feet.

“Nice wolfy. Stay back,” he warns, his tone firmer now. “I don’t want tae hurt ye.”

Hurt me? The thought is almost laughable, except it stings. I let out another whine, softer this time, and take one more step forward. Close enough now to smell the rain-soaked wool of his coat, the hint of soap still clinging to his skin. Familiar. Safe.

He doesn’t move, but his eyes never leave mine. “What d’ye want?”

I can’t answer him, not in words. Instead, I lower myself onto my haunches and inch closer, stretching my neck forward until my nose bumps his hand.

Callum flinches, his breath hitching, but he doesn’t pull away. His hand hovers just above my muzzle, trembling as if unsure whether to pet me or push me away. I nudge him again, this time with a little more force, trying to make him understand.

It’s me.

And then, because I don’t know what else to do, I nip at him. Playfully, gently—at least, that’s the plan. But the wolf in me doesn’t know its own strength, and my teeth sink deeper than I intended, but not enough to break skin. Enough to hurt.

I release Callum, stumbling back as the realization of what I’ve done crashes over me. My stomach twists and I whine.

“Ah, fuck!” Callum yelps, jerking his hand back. He stares at me, his face pale, his free hand pressing against the shallow indents in his skin. “Did ye just bite me?”

I rear back, horrified, my tail tucking between my legs. No, no, no— this isn’t what I meant to do. I lower myself to the ground, pressing my muzzle against the pavement in an unspoken apology.

Ohh, he tastes good. I knew he would. Let’s keep him.

I startle at the voice inside my head but don’t have time to examine it.

Callum stares at me, his breathing labored, his injured hand still clutched to his chest. His attention tracks over my head as the rough sound of pounding feet reach us. Slowly, the pieces begin to fall into place. His brows knit together, his lips parting in both confusion and realization.

“Nova?” he rasps, like he doesn’t dare believe it. “Is that you?”

I lift my head, ears flicking toward him. I want to nod, but my body doesn’t work that way. Instead, I let out a small, strangled bark, hoping it’s enough.

“Holy shite,” he breathes, running a hand through his damp hair. He looks down at his bitten hand, then back at me, disbelief and exasperation warring on his face. “Ye couldn’t just say it, could ye? You’re hungry?”

I huff, lowering my head again. If I could roll my eyes, I would.

Tai reaches us, skidding to a stop beside me, now fully clothed. He puts a hand on Callum, dragging him behind a building, and I trot along.

It’s well after midnight, and the streets are empty, save for a couple straggling bar-goers stumbling their way home. I probably look like an overgrown, colorful dog.

Maybe?

In the shadows of the alleyway, Tai turns to face Callum, his expression grim.

"You're lucky she didn't take your whole hand off," Tai mutters, his eyes darting to the shallow marks on Callum's skin. He presses his fingers to his wrist, inspecting the bite with the same clinical precision as he uses healing magic to care for the injury.

Callum winces but doesn’t pull away. “Aye, thanks for the reassurance.”

Tai lets out a harsh breath, crouching beside me. His hand hovers above my fur, hesitating. I blink up at him, waiting for whatever lecture he’s about to unleash.

“You’ve got to focus,” he says finally, his voice softer than I expected. “Shifting isn’t just instinct—it’s control. You’ve got to breathe. Find the part of you that still feels fae and hold onto it. Pull it forward.”

I tilt my head, trying to follow his words, but everything inside me feels tangled. The wolf is there—present, consuming. It feels like a storm, and I’m stuck in the eye, powerless to command it. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be a fucking wolf.

I shake my head, trying to clear it of the panic.

Callum steps closer, his words bisecting the rising dread. “Take yer time, lass. Ye don’t have tae force it.”

I glance at him, startled by the warmth in his tone. The faint bite indents on his hand are already healed, but his expression isn’t angry. If anything, it’s … understanding.

Something inside me softens, a thread of connection I don’t understand but can’t ignore. My tail sways, almost involuntarily, and Callum’s lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile.

Tai clears his throat, his irritation barely masked. “Connection is good.” He rises again. “But it’s not enough. You need to listen.”

I huff, the sound frustrated. Listening is all well and good, but when my body feels like it’s been hijacked by another creature, it’s easier said than done.

Tai pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “Alright, new plan. I’ll sift back to the hotel, grab our things, and check us out. I’ll meet you both here before we go to the standing stones. Once we’re back in Bedlam, we’ll deal with this.”

My ears perk at his words, and Callum frowns. “Back tae the fae realm? Just like that?”

Tai narrows his eyes. “Unless you’ve got a better idea for what to do with a newly shifted wolf fae in the middle of Inverness?”

Callum sighs, raking a hand through his damp hair. “Fair enough. But if ye think I’m leavin’ her alone in this state?—”

“You’re not,” Tai interrupts. “Stay here. Keep her calm. I’ll be back in five minutes.” His fingers run through the fur on my head, his touch soothing, and I lean into it.

Then without waiting for an answer, Tai vanishes, the air rippling faintly where he stood. Weird. I’ve never noticed that before.

I watch the empty space where he disappeared, my wolf instincts picking up the residual energy from his magic. It feels like a tug, like something pulling at the edges of my awareness, but it fades quickly.

Callum crouches in front of me, his green eyes searching mine. “Ye alright in there?”

I whine softly, dipping my head. The truth is, I don’t know.

Everything feels wrong.

My limbs don’t move the way they should. My senses are too sharp, the world too bright, the sounds too much. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, fast and unsteady, and I don’t even know if it’s mine or the thing I’ve become. My claws dig into the dirt, and my breath comes too fast, ragged and uneven.

This isn’t real.

This can’t be real.

My worst fucking nightmare, manifest.

I want out. I want my body back. I want to scream, to rip away from this skin that isn’t mine, to claw my way back into something fae, something normal.

I don’t want to be a monster.

I brace myself for rejection. For disgust.

But Callum doesn’t flinch.

Everything feels wrong; my body, my mind, the strange pull toward him that grows stronger the longer I stay near.

I don’t want to be a monster, I don’t?—

“Didn’t think I’d ever see ye like this,” he murmurs. “But even like this, yer still you. ”

The words settle over me, grounding me in a way I didn’t realize I needed. I nudge his arm with my muzzle, and he chuckles softly when I drag my tongue along his exposed forearm.

Fuck, he tastes good.

Like, really, really good.

“Aye, that’s more like it.” His hand pats the top of my head. “We’ll figure this out, lass.”

The sound of Tai’s return—a faint rush of displaced air—draws our attention. He’s back, his arms full of our things, his expression tight with urgency.

“Let’s go.” Tai glances around the alley as he drops my duffel at Callum’s feet. “The portal’s set for the academy. We’ll need to find help once we’re back.”

I rise to my paws, my claws scraping against the cobblestones, and glance between the two of them. This is happening. I’m going back to Bedlam like this—wild, untethered, and undeniably wolf.

I hate this.

“Ready?” Tai asks.

Callum nods, slinging mine and his bags over his shoulder. “As ready as we’ll ever be.” His hands are warm as they press against my fur, his touch easing some of my fear. “Let’s get ye home, aye?”

Home. The word lingers between us.

Tai holds onto Callum and me, and sifts us to the portal location.

My paws sink into the damp grass with each step. The chill of the early morning clings to everything, wrapping the Cairns in a mist that feels almost alive. But it’s not the weather that has me distracted—it’s Callum.

I brush against his leg again, unable to stop myself. He glances down, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Still no’ used tae this, are ye?” he murmurs, his accent lilting in a way that makes something in my chest tighten. His hand drops to rest lightly on my head, his fingers curling against my fur for just a moment before he pulls away.

No, I think. Not used to this at all.

I don’t know if it’s the shift or something else entirely, but being near him feels ... different. More. Every inch of me hums with awareness of him—his scent, his warmth, the steady sound of his boots crunching against the grass. It’s maddening, like I’m being pulled toward him by an invisible thread I don’t understand.

He slows his pace, falling in step with me. “Ye alright, lass?”

I huff through my nose in response, nudging his hand with my head before I can stop myself. His fingers graze my fur again, this time lingering a little longer, and the connection sends a shiver down my spine. I can’t tell if it’s comforting or infuriating. Maybe both.

Callum chuckles under his breath. “Aye, I’ll take that as a yes.”

We walk in silence for a while, the only sounds the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional gust of wind through the trees. Tai keeps glancing back at us, his brow furrowed in concentration as he leads the way toward the Cairns. He’s tense—more so than usual—and I know it’s because of me.

I have magic now.

And this means soon, I won’t need a personal guard anymore. The grief twisting inside me is foreign, jagged, catching in my ribs like a thorn. I should feel relieved. Should be thrilled to finally have some freedom from the ever-present shadow of a protector who, no matter how much I care for him, is still bound to me by duty.

But I don’t want freedom from him .

Not when he’s the one who’s always been there. Not when losing him feels like losing a part of myself I barely understand.

And yet … if this stupid fae deal is tied to my need for protection , would gaining control of my magic convince my brother to get rid of it?

Would I finally be able to have him back?

I swallow hard, pushing the thought away before it can settle too deep. It doesn’t matter. Not when the moment I don’t need him anymore, he’ll be reassigned.

And no vow, no magic, no wishful thinking can stop that from happening. Not while he’s still in the royal guard.

Pack, a small, wild voice whispers in the back of my mind. The word sends a ripple of warmth through me, one I don’t want to examine too closely.

I bump into Callum again, earning another smile. “Ye keep doin’ that, I’ll start thinkin’ ye love me,” he teases, his tone light but his eyes searching.

I do love you, I think, startled by the sudden clarity of it. But loving him isn’t supposed to feel like this—this aching, consuming pull that makes everything else fade into the background.

Tai clears his throat up ahead, breaking the moment. “We’re almost there,” he calls over his shoulder.

The forest air sings in my lungs, as though I’m taking my first real breath in decades. But every muscle in my body aches from the shift, the rawness of it gnawing at the edges of my control. My skin feels too tight, my senses too shrill—every sound, every scent, amplified to a deafening roar.

I stumble over a root, my legs still unsteady, and a growl bubbles from my throat before I can stop it. Callum is at my side in an instant, his hands around my middle to steady me.

“Easy, lass,” he murmurs, his voice a low balm against the storm raging inside me. “Ye don’t need tae push yerself like this.”

His hand lingers on my back, and I feel it again. That pull. The wildness within me stirs, twisting and writhing like a live wire. It’s too much. The forest around us blurs, my pulse hammering as the scent of him floods my senses. Warm. Familiar. Irresistible.

“Nova?” Callum leans closer, his hand sliding to my shoulder. “Ye alright?”

No. Not even close.

The heat rising in me crests, spilling over before I can stop it. My instincts take over, and before I realize what’s happening, my teeth sink into the warmth of his arm. Again! The taste of him—salt and earth and something achingly human—hits me like a jolt of lightning.

Callum cries out, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his other hand grips my shoulder, firm but not punishing.

“Nova!” Tai’s voice snaps through the haze, a cold shock to my overheated mind.

I whimper and release my bite, stumbling back from Callum in horror. Still not enough to pierce his flesh, but I’ve hurt him. I’ve hurt him because I’m an out-of-control monster .

He reaches for me again, but I flinch away, terrified of what I might do if he touches me.

"It's alright, lass." Callum's words are steady, but I can see the pain etched in the lines of his face. "Ye didnae hurt me."

Tai places his palm against Callum’s wound, healing him of his injury while giving me a wary look.

I back away until I bump into one of the standing stones, heart thundering in my chest. The wildness within me has taken over, urging me to bite, to taste.

And I don’t just want to bite Callum, I want to bite Tai, too.

“Give me a moment to get the portal stone out.” Tai fishes into his pocket for the small piece.

As Tai retrieves it, I press my back against the cool surface of the standing stone, trying to calm the primal urges surging through me. The scent of Callum lingers in the air, tantalizing and tormenting me. I dig my nails into the dirt, desperate to maintain control, to anchor myself so I don’t do something stupid.

“Ready?” my guard asks.

I whimper, though I can’t meet his eyes. The wildness inside me has receded, but the shame burns hotter than ever. I follow them silently into the portal, my steps heavy with the enormity of what I’ve done, of what I am.

Monster.

Monster.

Monster.

But just as the portal begins to shimmer and close, a low, haunting howl mows through the quiet of the Cairns, so mournful and raw it stops me in my tracks. My ears twitch toward the sound, the fine hairs along my back rising in response. It pulls at something deep and primal within me—a longing I can’t name but feel in the marrow of my bones.

I turn, my eyes snapping to the edge of the tree line, where the thick mist swirls like ghosts. A fleeting shadow moves against the dark. Dark blue fur winks under the pale moonlight as the figure streaks through the underbrush, all desperate power, heading straight for the portal.

My heart slams against my ribs, a jumbled blend of fear, yearning, and confusion igniting in my chest. The wildness inside me stirs again, its voice a quiet hum that I don’t know how to interpret.

Callum calls my name, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the figure in the woods. It moves with a purpose that feels all too familiar, as though it’s driven by the same chaotic energy that’s been tearing me apart from the inside.

Desperation.

I can feel it—thick in the air, like a rope pulling taut between us. My instincts scream at me to run, not away, but to cross the space between us, to do something. But I stay frozen, rooted in place by a pull that makes no sense.

Tai’s magic flares as he pushes the portal open wider to hold it steady. “Nova, now,” he commands, his words spearing through the spellbinding pull of the wolf in the trees.

I hesitate, one paw rooted on the ground as the others stand inside the portal while the dark blue figure speeds up, its golden eyes flashing once through the mist. They burn like twin flames, filled with an intensity that sings through me.

Is that … the wolf from the hospital? The rogue?

“Nova,” Callum urges, his hand brushing against my fur to guide me forward. His touch grounds me just enough to snap me out of whatever spell that shadow cast.

“We have to go now, it’s closing!”

I step into the portal with one last glance over my shoulder. The mist swallows the forest whole, leaving only the memory of those golden eyes and the sorrowful cry that still echoes in my ears. The portal seals behind us, and the world falls away, leaving me to wonder what—who—I just left behind.