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CHAPTER FORTY

CALLUM

T he walk to the underground fight ring feels longer than usual, my thoughts tangled like the frostbitten branches above me. My feet crunch against the snow-packed path, the sound loud in the still night. The air feasts on my skin, colder than it’s been all week, but I barely notice. My head’s too full of her.

Nova.

I think I’m in love with her.

It kills me that I’m not enough for her.

Tai and I stayed at the clinic last night until staff kicked us out, made us go home. Didn’t learn a feckin’ thing in classes today, because all I’d thought about was having to walk away when she needs me.

And that’s the part that tears at me. What she needs.

I tug my hood tighter against the cold as the path slopes downward, the glow of distant lanterns marking the campuses’ edge. No amount of logic or reassurance has made this any easier. I know she needs an alpha to survive her heat, and I’m not one. I’m barely a beta by wolf fae standards—just a stupid human who got sucked into this world by sheer bad luck. What could I possibly give her that someone else couldn’t?

I should’ve stayed longer, fought harder to be with her, even if it wasn’t my place. What kind of man leaves the woman he—I stop myself. She’s not mine. Not like that. Not fully.

What could I offer her during her heat? A comforting word? A hand to hold? I’m no alpha. I’ve got no magic, no knot, nothing that could help her through the worst of it. Shaking my head, I huff a breath that fogs in front of me. Bloody useless.

My stomach churns as the thought hits me again, like a punch I didn’t see coming. She’s with someone else right now. Some faceless, nameless alpha in that clinic, giving her exactly what I never can.

I shove the thought down, harder than I should, and pick up my pace. This fight? I need this fight tonight. I need the adrenaline, the rush, the bone-rattling impact of fists connecting. It’s the only thing that clears my head, the only thing that reminds me I’m still worth something.

The path veers toward the outskirts of the campus, where the trees thicken, and the lights thin out. The ring’s not much farther now—just past the abandoned mill, hidden in a giant old storage building that looks like it hasn’t been touched in decades. It’s a clever front. No one would suspect a fighting ring down here, not unless you were looking for it.

But as I round the bend, something feels … off.

I stop, my boots skidding on the icy ground. The air is too still, the shadows too deep. My instincts, honed from months of being forced to fight in Espero, flare to life. I scan the tree line, my breath fogging in the cold, my pulse quickening. Someone’s watching me.

I don’t hear them so much as feel them. A shift in the air. A presence.

I glance over my shoulder, scanning the path behind me. The trees spill long, dark shadows under the moonlight, their skeletal branches swaying in the wind. But there’s no one there. No sign of movement. Just the distant rustle of leaves and the faint whistle of the wind.

Get a grip, lad. Yer imaginin’ things.

Still, my hand drifts to the dagger at my hip, the weight a small comfort. My only bit of steel in a world full of magic. I take another step toward the storage building, my pulse quickening. The heavy door creaks open, just a sliver, and a pale light spills out onto the snow. I ease forward, muscles tensed, ready for whatever comes next.

“Bit late for a human to be wanderin’ alone, isn’t it?”

The voice comes from behind me, and I whirl around, dagger in hand. My heart skitters as figures emerge from the shadows, their glowing eyes carving through the darkness like tiny flames.

Fae. At least a dozen of them.

They fan out in a loose circle, their movements casual, almost lazy, but I don’t miss the way their magic hums in the air. It’s subtle, but it’s there, like a snake coiling in the grass. It’s been used enough on me in the ring that I’ve started to recognize the minute change it creates around them.

I grip my dagger tighter, my jaw clenched. “If yer here tae fight, get in the bloody ring like the rest of us.”

The tallest of the group steps forward, his smirk wicked. “Lost, human?” he sneers. “The fighting ring’s not for your kind.”

I tighten my grip on the dagger, my teeth clenched. “Funny, seein’ as I’ve been fightin’ longer than ye’ve probably been breathin’.”

I’ve got a good twenty years on all the fae students here, seeing as how they mature in eighteen to twenty-four months.

The fae laughs, a cold, harsh sound. “Bold words for a mutt wandering where he doesn’t belong.”

“Big words for someone who brought backup.” I smirk. “If ye’ve got a problem with me, take it tae the ring. Otherwise, piss off.”

The group shifts, closing in like wolves circling prey. The one who spoke steps closer, his grin widening. “We don’t need the ring to deal with the likes of you. But you’re not really the problem, are you? You’re just the tool.”

“Then what the hell are ye here for?”

The fae tilts his head, as if he’s sizing me up. “To send a message.”

I frown, my mind racing. “What kind of message?”

“To those who think they can stain our ranks with their filth,” he sneers, his tone dripping with contempt. “And you, little human, are the perfect tool to make our point.”

A cold wave washes through me. “What the fuck are ye on about?”

He leans closer, his smirk widening. “You’re keeping her busy. Keeping her blind.”

Her.

Nova .

“Leave her out of this.” My voice trembles with rage.

The bastard tilts his head, as if savoring my anger. “Oh, we’ll deal with her soon enough. But first? Let’s see how much she’s willing to bleed for you.”

The words land their mark. The fury boils over before I can think. I lunge, aiming for his throat, but a wall of magic slams into me, knocking the air from my lungs. My back hits the door, hard, blasting it off its hinges. My blade skids out of reach.

I push up, muscles screaming, but another wave of magic pins me to the door. It groans beneath the weight of it, and I grit my teeth, thrashing against the invisible hold.

“Cowards,” I snarl. “Ye’ve no idea who you’re messin’ with.”

The leader crouches beside me, his voice cold as a blade’s edge. “Oh, we know exactly who you are. And we’ll enjoy watching her suffer.”

The edges of my vision blur, but their laughter echoes as they drag me into the dark.