Page 40 of Faeheart (Widdershins Supernatural Academy #2)

“But Lydia, Sorrel... they wouldn’t want you to sacrifice yourself for us,” I protested, even as I felt precious time slipping away.

“Wouldn’t they?” Thorne asked gently. “They spent their lives fighting the same darkness you face now. They built this sanctuary so that others like you could have a chance to survive, to grow strong enough to make a difference. What greater purpose could there be?”

I closed my eyes, feeling the mansion’s magical framework humming around us, the layers of protection that had kept this place safe for decades.

Through our bond, I sensed my mates working frantically to prepare their illusions, their magic painting scenes of destruction and abandonment throughout the house.

“There has to be another way,” I said desperately.

“There isn’t time to find one,” Thorne replied, his form beginning to glow with concentrated dryad energy. “The Purity Front will be here within minutes. Either we do this now, or you face them with only the mansion’s original defenses.”

I knew he was right. The approaching magical signatures were growing stronger by the second, and I could begin to actually feel them.

They had something else with them too, a dark, hungry presence that made my skin crawl.

Whatever artifact they’d brought, it was powerful enough to make the very air around it feel wrong.

“Alright,” I said, pressing my palms flat against the stone wall. “Tell me what to do.”

Thorne moved behind me, his ghostly hands covering mine.

The moment we made contact, his energy flowed into me like liquid starlight, cool and ancient and impossibly vast. I gasped as I felt the true scope of the mansion’s magical framework, every ward and spell and protective enchantment laid bare to my consciousness.

“Now,” Thorne whispered, his voice already growing fainter.

“Let your magic flow. I’ll weave it into the foundation.

” He leaned close, his ethereal form pressed into mine.

“Remember, practice and rituals and rules can only go so far. This tetrad bond you share is rooted in wild magic. It responds to emotion and intention. Make them clear in your mind and let go of your structures. You won’t need them anymore. ”

Gritting my teeth, I tried to push the hundreds of rituals and spells and diagrams I’d memorized over the years out of my mind.

Instead, I replaced them with my emotions.

I saw Wild’s kind smile before he kissed me, felt Atlas’s arms around my shoulders, and felt Caden’s leg draped over mine as we read in the library.

My love for them spilled forth, but none more powerfully than my devotion to Wild.

Those green eyes, his ginger hair, and that mischievous smile he always wore drove me so mad I could barely think.

I loved the chaos in his eyes, and I wanted to see them again, to protect them all.

And that’s exactly what I was going to do.

I opened myself completely, letting my magic pour out in streams of blue energy.

But instead of depleting me as I’d expected, Thorne’s power filled the gaps, his connection to the mansion itself providing an endless reservoir to draw from.

Together, we began to weave new patterns into the existing wards.

The hidden trap layer took shape with breathtaking complexity.

Where the original wards had been designed for simple protection, this new system was predatory in its elegance.

Thorne guided my magic through pathways I’d never imagined, weaving spells that would lie dormant until triggered by specific combinations of hostile intent and magical signatures.

“Beautiful,” Thorne breathed, his voice growing fainter as more of his essence poured into the work. “Your love for your mates creates such precise magical patterns. Lydia would have been impressed.”

Through our connection, I could feel the mansion itself responding to our efforts.

The ancient stones seemed to pulse with renewed purpose as the hidden defenses integrated seamlessly with the existing architecture.

Doorways that would seal themselves, corridors that would rearrange their layout, rooms that would become prisons at a moment’s notice.

“How much longer?” I asked, sweat beading on my forehead despite the cool energy flowing through me.

“Almost finished,” Thorne replied, though his form was noticeably more translucent than before. “Just the activation triggers now. What conditions do you want to set?”

I thought quickly, my mind racing through tactical scenarios. “Multiple hostile magical signatures crossing the threshold simultaneously. Detection of blood magic artifacts. And...” I paused, considering. “If any of us are seriously injured or killed.”

“A dead man’s switch,” Thorne nodded approvingly. “Clever. The mansion will avenge you even if you cannot.”

The final threads of magic locked into place with an almost audible click. The surrounding walls hummed with barely contained power, ready to transform from sanctuary to death trap at a moment’s notice. But when I turned to thank Thorne, my heart clenched.

The dryad’s form was barely visible now, little more than a faint outline of silver light. He’d poured too much of himself into the spell, given too much to ensure our protection, just like he said.

“Thorne,” I whispered, reaching out toward his fading presence.

“It was worth it,” he said, his voice like wind through distant leaves. “Tell them... tell them I was proud to help. That the sanctuary will remember what you’ve done here.”

“I will,” I promised, tears stinging my eyes as the last traces of his form dissolved into nothingness. I’d never gotten a chance to learn about him, or about his bond with Lydia and Sorrel. And now it was too late.

The silence that followed felt profound, weighted with loss and possibility in equal measure. But there was no time to grieve properly. Through our tetrad bond, I felt my mates’ growing urgency as they put the finishing touches on their illusions.

I pushed myself away from the wall, surprised to find that I wasn’t completely drained as I’d expected.

Thorne’s sacrifice had ensured that the ward restructuring drew from the mansion’s own reserves rather than mine alone.

I was tired, yes, but still functional. And as soon as my hand left the wall, I could no longer sense the magic of the mansion.

All its barely contained power had been suppressed. Now it felt like little more than a normal house, completely average and lifeless. The Purity Front would never sense the trap before it was sprung.

Elias, Wild’s voice echoed through our soul bond, tight with concern. The outer sensors are going crazy. They’re here.

Wiping my eyes, I headed down the hall to join my mates. The time had come to face our destiny.