Page 55

NOVA

T he room feels wrong without Callum’s brogue penetrating the silence. It’s like every shadow is bigger, every whisper of air one I dread to take. I haven’t slept—haven’t wanted to, really, because every time I close my eyes, I see that burst of magic slamming into his chest. I see Sylus snatching him and vanishing before Tai, Echo, or any of the others could use a feather to bring him back to life.

A part of me died yesterday, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole again.

Tai lingers near the doorway, arms wrapped across his chest like he’s trying to hold in his own guilt and grief. A bag dangles from his hand from the campus bakery, and he kicks off his shoes. He’d managed to sneak into Callum’s dorm for me last night before returning with an armful of T-shirts and hoodies. Even a battered baseball cap.

He places them gently on my bed, and I bury my nose in them, desperate to keep Callum close in any way I can.

I lay curled on my mattress, buried beneath a heap of blankets, my tears never ending. One of them is Callum’s, a worn tartan he’d snuck back from our excursion to Earth. I press my face into it and breathe in the scent he left behind—salt, something earthy, and his cologne. My wolf whines, the sound clawing up my throat until I can’t tell if it’s me or her making that broken noise.

Every so often, Tai attempts to talk, to coax me into eating or stepping outside for fresh air. But the second I’m away from Callum’s things, panic sets in, like I’m losing him all over again. My wolf thrashes inside me, as if she can somehow claw through time and tear him back from wherever Sylus took his body. The ache in my chest is so consuming, I can’t imagine how I’ll ever function without him.

Fang hasn’t left my side. She stays on my chest, granting me a deep, rumbling kind of purr meant to soothe me, but it does little to fill the enormous hole inside of me.

When I can’t hold back anymore, I call Callum’s phone—just to hear his voice. Long dead, it goes straight to his cheerful greeting asking me to leave a message, and the quiet air after the beep crushes me. Over and over again, I call it. Just to hear his deep timbre.

"If ye’re hearin’ this, I’m either up to no good or gone where ye can’t reach me. Let’s hope it’s the first one. Leave a message. Slàinte!"

I press the phone tighter against my ear, as if that might change something, as if I can will him closer just by listening. It’s the kind of voice that turns heads in a crowd—Scottish lilt wrapped in something deeper, something meant to be listened to. A voice built for storytelling. A voice I’ll never hear in real time again.

There are so many things I wish I could go back and change. Not just my magic that killed him, but the time I’d spent thinking he’d turned his back on us, when in reality, he’d been kidnapped—it was my actions that did it.

The guilt is suffocating.

We were supposed to have so much more time.

Beta, Beta, Beta , my wolf keens inside my head.

She never lets up. Stuck on a loop, she cries all day and all night. Tai sets the bag on the nightstand, yanks off his hoodie, and crawls into bed with me. He pulls me into his arms, and while it’s comforting, it does little to ease the anguish that has burrowed deep into my soul.

“We’ll find him, and we’ll bring him home,” he whispers in my ear.

A whimper escapes me, and more tears flood my face. When we get his body back, it will still be too late.

I turn into his tattooed chest, clinging to him as though he can take all my broken pieces and put me back together again, my eyes on the small ring on my left finger.

Now, it’s the only piece of Callum I have left. A scrap of proof that for even a short time, he was mine. That somewhere, in another life, maybe he still is.

I know it’s an impossible task, but if words become wishes, I’d speak until the universe bent to my will. Until time unraveled, and fate rewrote itself.

But words aren’t magic. Wishes don’t bring back the dead.

I tighten my grip on the ring, pressing it into my skin as if holding onto it hard enough might somehow bring him back. As if the warmth of my palm could reach across whatever distance separates us now.

But it won’t.

It never will.

Tai strokes my hair, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. It’s a small comfort, but I’ll take what I can get, in any way I can get it.

“When my mom died, I thought I’d never recover,” he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to my fractured heart. “The pain was unbearable, like a part of me had been ripped away. And to be honest, it’s just like that; something so vital, so engrained in who I am as a person, is gone forever. But with time, the sharp edges of grief soften.”

I sniffle, meeting his melancholy, honey-brown eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I cry. “What you went through … no child should ever have to experience. You’re so strong. Way stronger than me.”

His father abandoned them when his mother got sick. And for him to go through losing both parents so young? My grief almost seems selfish.

“You don’t have to carry this alone,” he murmurs. “Your entire family is putting every resource they have into getting him back.”

“What if they’re too late?” I sob, the thought unbearable.

He tugs me closer, holding the back of my head. “We can’t think like that, baby. We have to hold on to hope, and know that Callum, as mortal as he is, he’s a Scotsman. A Highlander . A hell of a fighter. If anyone can be brought back, it’s him.”

I nod against his chest, my heart aching with both grief and a desperate longing for Tai’s words to be true.

He rubs slow circles over my back, and for a moment we just lie here, letting the quiet wrap around us. Every so often, my wolf gives another low, mourning whimper, echoing my sorrow.

Eventually, exhaustion wins out. I drift into a hollow sleep, clutching one of Callum’s shirts between us against my chest.

Some hours later, wind batters the dorm window by my bed, the sound rattling through our room. We’ve both been up for a few minutes but haven’t left the warmth of the mini nest I’ve made of both Tai and Callum’s things on my mattress. My wolf paces beneath my skin, whimpering for the mate she’ll never have.

Tai cups my face, brushing the tears from my cheeks that started the moment I’d woken and realized reality is a nightmare. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Every time my thoughts circle back to that awful scene—me hurling magic meant for Sylus, Sylus dodging, Callum’s head lolling forward—I can’t breathe. Worse, I can’t fix it. Panic compresses my lungs, like I’m falling with nothing to grab onto.

Muted light spilling from between the curtains signals morning, as does the steady chatter in the halls, as students who aren’t going home for winter break head to eat breakfast.

There’s a sharp knock on the door. Neither of us wants to answer. Neither of us can deal with more pitying faces, more prying questions. But the pounding continues, and eventually, Tai shoots me a concerned glance and goes to open it.

An academy administrator stands there—fidgeting with a clipboard and wearing a professional but uneasy expression. Behind her are several grim-faced security officers. The tension in the air has my hackles rising. I half expect them to bring me some new heartbreak.

“Miss Drake, Mr. Ashlock,” the administrator starts, stepping inside, while the security team remains in the hallway. Her gaze flickers over the unkempt room, the rumpled bedding, and me, clutching Callum’s shirt. Pity tugs at her features. “I’m sorry to bother you under the circumstances, but … we have a new roommate assignment to deliver.”

What the fuck?

Tai bristles, crossing his arms over his chest. “A new roommate? This is hardly the time?—”

“—This room is the only one with an open bed.” She clears her throat. “We, uh, need to place another student—someone who’s had trouble controlling his magic. He arrived last night in, well, less than ideal circumstances.” She gestures to the security officers. “From Earth.”

I blink, numb. “You can’t be serious.”

One of the officers gives me a curt nod, then beckons someone in the hallway. The doorframe darkens, and I catch sight of a figure with dark blue disheveled hair and pointed ears. As he steps into the room, I see that he’s wearing magic suppressant cuffs on both wrists. A few runic symbols glow crimson along the metal. He looks … like a wolf fae on the edge of losing it.

My wolf goes rigid, and a frisson of recognition pings deep in my gut. Where have I seen him?—?

He fights them every step, dragging the guards with him as he strains forward, his breathing harsh. His black leather jacket bunches around his shoulders with every attempt to wrench free. Then golden eyes framed by dark lashes find mine. A scar bisects his thick brow, and surprise lights his face.

The struggle dies instantly, his chest heaving. “Finally,” the rogue breathes hoarsely, like he’s been shouting for days. “I’ve found you.” It’s a reverent kind of whisper that only just passes his lips, as though if he spoke any louder, I’d float away from him.

The pain of losing Callum, and the shock of confronting this new wolf fae collide, and something wild reverberates in my chest. I don’t know whether to scream at the injustice or sink to my knees and cry. But through the madness, the stranger’s stare remains locked on me, leaving me with a single, undeniable truth:

We’re bound by something I can’t yet name—and in a single breath, everything has changed.

It’s him, it’s him, it’s him!

Oh, fuck .

Continue Nova’s story in the next installment of the Fae Academia series, where forbidden magic, dangerous alliances, and unexpected bonds collide: Made Fae (Fae Academia, Book 5) .