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CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CALLUM

T he stone walls encase me in like a mausoleum. Cold, damp air sticks to my skin, carrying the stench of mold and magic. I sit on the floor, arse numb, my back against the rough wall, wrists bound in glowing cuffs that hum with enchantment. Every now and then, they send a sharp jolt up my arms, like I’d stuck a fork in an outlet back home.

But they’re amateurs compared to the Romarian guards I’d had in Espero.

I’ve been here before. Not this exact room, not this exact situation, but close enough.

It’s been less than a week, and at least they’re feeding me, though it isn’t much. Food, water, and I don’t even have to fight to earn it. No one has bothered me or even told me why I’m here, other than it’s somehow connected to Nova.

Nova .

Her name plays on repeat in my head. My lungs constrict, and I can’t stop imagining all the nightmares she might be facing. She was always more than tough enough to handle herself, but I’ve seen how reckless fae politics can get. The thought of her tangled in that danger, possibly thinking she’s to blame for my capture, or worse—blaming herself for anything—makes my blood run cold.

She must be going mad trying to find me—if she knows where I am. She could be out there, plotting a rescue while I sit here, helpless, doing nothing. My stomach twists. I want to see her, to tell her I’m all right—well, alive, anyway—and that this isn’t her fault. That I chose to be in this world. That I’d choose it again for her.

But I can’t. I can only replay all the times we joked or argued, all the moments she bristled or beamed at me. How I should’ve never ghosted her, because we lost so much time together.

Get a grip, Callum.

I shake my head, blinking away that hollow ache building behind my eyes. It won’t help. I can’t free myself from this room just by wanting.

Yet that’s all I’ve got—wanting to see her, wanting to make sure she’s not in more danger than I am. Anxious rage blooms in my chest, fighting the numbness creeping into my limbs. If these bastards hurt her or lay a finger on her, I’ll tear this entire place down, stone by stone, with my bare hands.

They’re waiting for me to break. Or maybe they’re giving Nova time to do something foolish to save me. The thought stokes both guilt and anger. Don’t do anything rash, I think, as if I can somehow send her the message. Don’t risk your life for mine.

I flex my hands, testing the bonds. They don’t budge. Magic like this wasn’t made for humans to break, but I’ve survived worse. My body remembers the sting of the Romarian whip laced with that metal only found there, the ache of unhealed wounds stretched too far, and the crushing grip of fear. This? This is just another cage. At least they’re not torturing me.

Footsteps echo beyond the heavy door, the sound bouncing through the narrow space, with measured pacing that suggests they’re in no hurry. I glance up, ready to jump to my feet as the door creaks open.

Sylus Creed steps inside, his amber eyes smug with the kind of satisfaction that only comes from someone who thinks they’re in control, like he holds all the cards. His white hair rests against his forehead, his features twisted into a sneer that sets my teeth on edge.

“Well, if it isn’t Nova’s little pet.” He props himself against the door, spinning a small blade between his fingers, as if that’s supposed to feel threatening. “Back in chains. How does it feel, human? Familiar, isn’t it?”

I let my head fall back against the wall with a dull thud, giving him a lazy smirk. “Aye, it’s familiar. But if you think you can do anything that hasn’t already been done tae me, you’re dafter than you look.”

His expression falters for a split second before the sneer returns. “Bold words for someone in your position.”

“Position?” I snort. “Yer wee magic cuffs? Cute. But I’ve had worse than this from fae half as pathetic as you.”

His jaw tightens, the muscles ticking beneath his pale skin. Good. Let him simmer. Let him know he doesn’t scare me.

Sylus steps closer, his boots clicking against the stone floor. He crouches in front of me, his stare cold as he studies me like I’m an insect he’s about to squash. “Oh, I don’t need to break you, human. Just hurt you. Enough to make her bleed for it.”

I stiffen, but I keep my face neutral. “Don’t know what yer talkin’ about.”

His eyes narrow, and his hand snaps out, grabbing my shirt and hauling me forward. The cuffs dig into my wrists, but I don’t flinch. He’s trying to rattle me, and I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Don’t play dumb,” he hisses. “You and that mutt think you can waltz in here, flaunting your existence like you belong? Like either of you are anything more than parasites feeding off what real fae built?”

I let out a harsh laugh, leaning closer. “This about her or me? ‘Cause yer actin’ a little too personal for someone tryin’ tae make a point.”

His nostrils flare, his mask slipping for just a moment. He shoves me back against the wall, the impact jarring but not enough to knock the defiance out of me. Just a little split lip where my teeth kiss my lips. “She’s a mistake. A half-breed abomination who doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as us. And you?” he sneers, shaking his head. “You’re not even worth mentioning. Just a tool. A means to an end.”

I don’t move, don’t react. I just lift my gaze and offer him a lazy smirk. “Ye’ve got a real obsession with her, don’t ye? If ye fancy her, mate, ye could’ve just asked her tae dinner instead of goin’ through all this shite.”

Sylus’s lip curls, a snarl forming but not quite escaping. “You think you’re clever?”

I keep my voice even. “I know I am.”

He moves fast, but I expect the strike. His fist cracks against my jaw, snapping my head to the side and making me see stars. Pain flares bright, but I just spit blood onto the floor and grin up at him. “That all ye got?”

His hands clench at his sides. “You don’t belong here, human. None of you do. And yet, somehow, you’ve managed to make yourself indispensable to the wrong people.”

I arch a brow. “That so?”

He crouches in front of me, his amber eyes gleaming with something almost feverish. “You have no idea what you’ve stepped into, do you?” His voice dips lower. “The made fae. The humans. You lot are a blight. And she—” A vein pulses along his temple. “She’s the worst of them.”

My fingers twitch, but I force myself to stay still. He wants a reaction, and I won’t give it to him, no matter how much he deserves a punch in the face.

“She’s not your concern,” I drawl. “And if you think takin’ me’s gonna get a rise out of her, you don’t know her at all.”

She might not be adept at magic, yet, but she’s better than anyone I know at wielding a knife. And with the backing of her entire royal family? And the Gods? Surely, he isn’t that daft.

“Oh, I know her.” His scrutiny lowers to my chest, and I realize, too late, that my shirt is tattered from where they dragged me across the woods.

Sylus’s expression morphs into something smug. “I can smell her all over you.” His eyes narrow as he tilts his head. “How interesting.”

My stomach clenches. The bastard’s baiting me.

“She was in heat,” I say coolly, refusing to rise to it. “Not exactly a shocker.”

He laughs. Actually laughs, like I’ve said something funny. Then, faster than I can track, he grabs my jaw in a bruising grip.

“You think that means something?” His fingers dig in, just shy of breaking bone. “You’re nothing. Just another mutt sniffing at another mutt’s ass. She may be untouchable.” His grip tightens. “But I’m going to make her watch you break.”

A jolt of ice radiates up my spine. Not fear. Rage.

I shove forward, knocking his hold loose as I get right in his face. My breath is ragged, my wrists burning, but I don’t give a fuck.

“I’ve been through worse than you, mate,” I snarl. “Ye can’t do shite to me that hasn’t already been done. But if ye think takin’ me is gonna weaken her, ye’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

Sylus watches me, but I can’t decipher his expression. After a moment, he breaks into a slow smile.

“We’ll see about that.”

Then he stands, smooths down his coat, and walks out without another word.

The door locks behind him, and I exhale through my nose, flexing my fingers against the cuffs. He’s wrong.

Nova will come for me. And when she does, the fae in this room are going to regret every godsdamned decision they’ve made.