Page 25 of Faeheart (Widdershins Supernatural Academy #2)
Wild
T he sound of splintering wood echoed through the mansion’s halls like thunder, each crash sending vibrations through the floor beneath our feet. Through our bond, I felt all four of us go rigid with fear and battle-ready tension simultaneously.
“How did they find us?” Elias whispered, his face pale as parchment. Through our connection, I could feel his terror warring with a fierce protectiveness that surprised me with its intensity.
Atlas was already shifting, his human form rippling as his werewolf nature surged to the surface. “The wards,” he growled, his voice deeper and more guttural than usual. “Something’s trying to break through Lydia’s protections.”
Another thunderous crash shook the mansion, closer this time. Dust rained from the painted ceiling above us, and several of the glowing crystals embedded in the walls flickered ominously.
“We need to get out of here,” Caden said, his usual calm cracking as panic bled through our tetrad bond. “If the Purity Front has found a way to breach the sanctuary?—”
“No,” I interrupted, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. The chaotic magic inside me was responding to the threat, crackling along my skin like barely contained lightning. “The wards will hold. And if they don’t, we’ll be prepared. But we’re not going to run. Not this time.”
The ethereal servant flickered, its silvery form wavering like smoke in a breeze. “The eastern ward line has been compromised,” it reported in that same emotionless tone. “Unknown magical signatures are attempting forced entry through the Veil crossing.”
“How many?” Atlas demanded, his golden eyes now fully wolf-bright as his protective instincts blazed through our bond.
“Seventeen distinct magical signatures detected. Witch magic primarily, with some unfamiliar artifacts amplifying their power.”
My stomach dropped. Seventeen Purity Front operatives, armed with magical artifacts powerful enough to crack wards that had stood for decades. We were four college students who had barely mastered basic tetrad formations.
“We’re not ready for this,” Elias said, echoing my thoughts. His structured magic was already weaving defensive patterns around us instinctively. “The formation we just attempted. It was our first successful synchronization. We can’t possibly?—”
Another crash, this one so violent it sent several books tumbling from their floating positions around the chamber. The constellation ceiling flickered, stars winking out one by one as the mansion’s power grid strained against whatever was battering the outer defenses.
“We don’t have a choice,” I said, my fae nature responding to the threat with a surge of wild defiance. “The tetrad formation worked. We felt the power flowing between us. If we can recreate that?—”
“If we can recreate it without getting ourselves killed,” Atlas corrected grimly. “Combat magic is different from practice orbs, Wild. One mistake and we could all end up as magical feedback casualties.”
Through our bond, I felt Caden’s quiet terror mixing with a growing determination that reminded me why I’d fallen for all three of these men.
“Then we do combat magic,” he said simply, moving back to his northern position.
“We reinforce the wards from the inside and make sure anyone who touches them regrets it .”
“Regrets it how?” Elias asked, his eyes wide with fear.
“Councilor Ashwick said the river outside is full of dead spirits, right?” I said, the thought hitting me like a freight train. “Let’s give them some witches to attack. To drag down the river into oblivion itself.”
“Wild, that’s dark even for you,” Elias said, but I could feel a flicker of consideration through our bond.
“It’s not dark, it’s practical,” I argued, already moving back to my southern position. “These people want us dead. They’ve attacked schools, killed dozens of innocent students like us. They’re not going to stop. And they don’t deserve mercy.”
Atlas growled his agreement, his partial transformation making his voice rumble like distant thunder. “The fae’s right. We need to fight with everything we have.”
Another violent crash shook the mansion, and this time I could feel something ancient and powerful beginning to tear. The sensation was like fabric ripping slowly, methodically, each thread of Lydia’s protective magic being severed one by one.
“Take your positions,” Elias commanded, surprising me with his sudden authority. He moved to the eastern marker, his magic already forming complex patterns around his hands. “We’ll reinforce the eastern ward line first, then push outward.”
We moved into formation, the floor lighting up beneath our feet with our signature colors.
The tetrad connection snapped into place almost instantly this time, our desperation eliminating the hesitation we’d struggled with earlier.
Power surged between us, raw and primal, coursing through the geometric lines connecting our positions.
“Focus on the eastern boundary,” Elias directed, his voice steady despite the fear I could feel pulsing through our bond. “Caden, growth magic to strengthen what remains of Lydia’s wards. Atlas, protective barriers layered on top. Wild?—”
“I’ll disrupt whatever they’re using to break through,” I finished, already channeling my fae magic toward the eastern wall. “And you weave it all back together.”
The mansion trembled again, but this time I could feel our combined magic racing through its foundations, seeking the weakened points in its defenses.
Through our connection, I sensed the moment our power reached the eastern boundary, and the dark, corrupted energy that was eating away at it from the outside.
“They’re using blood magic,” Caden gasped, his horror rippling through our bond along with choppy fear-filled memories of his father. “They’re sacrificing something to fuel their attack.”
“Not something,” Atlas growled. “Someone. I can smell human blood.”
Rage exploded through me, white-hot and consuming. “These bastards claim to be fighting for purity, and they’re using the darkest magic imaginable?”
“Focus, Wild,” Elias commanded, though I could feel his own fury matching mine. “Channel that anger into the connection.”
I did as he said, letting my rage fuel my chaotic magic rather than disrupt our formation. The power flowing between us intensified, becoming something wild and dangerous that made the air itself crackle with electricity.
Through our bond, I could suddenly see what was happening outside the mansion.
Seventeen robed figures standing in a circle around what appeared to be a human sacrifice, their combined magic hammering against Lydia’s wards like a battering ram.
Each impact sent cracks spiderwebbing through the protective barriers, darkness seeping through the fissures like poison.
“There,” I hissed, focusing my chaotic magic on the ritual circle. “I can feel their connection points.”
Through our tetrad bond, I shared the vision with the others. Caden made a sound of disgust at the sight of the bloodied altar, while Atlas’s protective instincts flared so violently that golden light began radiating from his position.
“You guys reinforce the wards,” I growled, feeling my body begin to shift. My voice dropped low as my ears extended, my full lanky fae form taking shape. “I’m going to awaken the dead.”
The transformation hit me like a tidal wave, my fae nature surging forth in a way I’d never experienced before.
My skin began to glow with an inner light, freckles shimmering like constellations across my body.
My hair lengthened, swirling around my head like living flame as my ears elongated to delicate points.
Through our bond, I felt Elias’s awe at seeing my true form for the first time, his magic faltering momentarily before strengthening with renewed determination.
“Wild, be careful,” he warned, his voice tight with concern. “Necromantic magic is forbidden for a reason.”
“This isn’t necromancy,” I corrected, my voice resonating with harmonics that hadn’t been present in my human form. “It’s invitation. The dead are already there, waiting. I’m just... opening the door.”
I reached out with my fae senses, extending my awareness beyond the mansion’s boundaries to the river of souls that flowed through the Veil.
The spirits there were restless, hungry, drawn to the warmth of life but unable to cross back into the realm of the living.
I could feel their cold fingers reaching for the Purity Front witches, sensing the dark magic they wielded.
“Guide them,” Caden said, his growth magic weaving through mine in an unexpected synergy. “The spirits need a path.”
I nodded, understanding flowing between us without words.
While Elias and Atlas reinforced the mansion’s defenses, Caden and I redirected our combined energy toward the river.
Through our connection, I pulled a tendril of Caden’s growth magic into my chaotic weave, using it to create a bridge, not solid enough for the spirits to cross completely into our realm, but substantial enough for them to reach the Purity Front’s ritual circle.
“It’s working,” Atlas growled, his wolf-bright eyes fixed on something none of us could physically see. “I can smell their fear.”
Through our bond, flashes of the scene outside rippled between us. The robed figures faltering as ghostly hands emerged from the water, grasping at their ankles. Screams echoing across the Veil as the spirits recognized the dark magic for what it was, a violation of natural law.
The mansion shuddered again, but this time it felt different. Not an attack, but a response. The walls around us began to pulse with renewed energy, as if Lydia’s enchantments were drawing strength from our tetrad magic.
“The mansion is helping us,” Elias realized, his magic flowing into the very foundation of the sanctuary. “It’s using our power to rebuild its defenses.”