Page 41 of Faeheart (Widdershins Supernatural Academy #2)

Wild

“ W e need to get out of sight,” Caden said, his voice full of fear as Atlas grabbed him by the hand. “The Purity Front can’t see us when they arrive. We have to hide our signatures.”

“The second-floor gallery,” Atlas said, heading toward the stairs. “It overlooks the foyer. We can stay behind the plants as they come inside. They’ll never see us.”

“You two go,” I replied, standing to face the illusory wreckage of the mansion’s front doors. “I’m not leaving without Elias.”

“He can find us,” Atlas urged. “Come on!”

“No.” I stood my ground. “We go together or not at all.”

I felt Elias’s presence through our bond before I saw him, his magic a steady pulse that calmed my racing heart. He appeared from the eastern corridor, looking surprisingly composed for someone who’d just rewired an entire magical mansion’s defense system.

“Wild,” he breathed, relief flooding through our connection as our eyes met across the illusory debris.

“You’re okay,” I said, moving toward him without thinking.

Our combined efforts had created a perfect scene of destruction, crumbling walls, shattered furniture, and scorch marks on the ceiling.

But Elias navigated it effortlessly, knowing exactly which obstacles were real and which were mere projections.

“I told you I would be,” he said, reaching for my hand. “We need to go. Now.”

Atlas’s growl of frustration echoed from the staircase. “Both of you, move your asses. They’re at the outer boundary.”

I pulled Elias close for a brief, desperate kiss before dragging him toward the stairs.

Through our soul bond, I felt his exhaustion despite his brave face, the way his magic had been stretched thin by whatever he’d done with the wards.

There was something else there too, a sharp grief that felt fresh and raw.

“What happened?” I whispered as we climbed.

“Later,” he promised, squeezing my hand. “I’ll tell you everything later.”

The second-floor gallery was a long, narrow space lined with enchanted paintings on one side and massive potted plants on the other that overlooked the hall.

Caden had encouraged them to grow wildly over the past few days.

The foliage provided perfect cover while still allowing us to peer through the leaves at the grand entrance hall below.

Atlas pulled us behind a particularly massive fern, his golden eyes glowing in the dim light. “Kill your magical signatures,” he hissed. “All of you. Not a spark.”

We complied immediately, drawing our magic deep inside ourselves until we were practically invisible to magical detection.

It was uncomfortable, like holding your breath underwater, but necessary.

Through our tetrad bond, I could feel each of my mates doing the same, our presence in the magical world dimming to nothing.

“They’re coming,” Caden whispered, his blue eyes wide as he peered through the fronds.

The air at the mansion’s entrance began to shimmer and distort.

A tear appeared in reality itself, widening into a portal that pulsed with sickly purple light.

Beyond the beautiful seascape illusion was the Veil, gray and depressing.

But it was quickly blocked out. Through the portal stepped figures in hooded robes, their faces hidden in shadow.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, counting as they entered. “There are so many of them.”

At least thirty robed figures poured through the portal, moving with military precision as they secured the perimeter of the foyer. Their movements were coordinated and professional. These weren’t amateur zealots, but trained fighters.

“So, this is what the Purity Front’s elite looks like,” Atlas growled. “Bunch of fucking cowards in those cloaking spells. It’s almost like they know they’re doing the wrong thing.”

The last of the hooded figures entered, forming a protective circle around something they were escorting.

A cold dread pooled in my stomach as the object finally emerged through the portal.

It was a massive obsidian cube, roughly the size of a small car, floating several feet above the ground.

Its surface rippled like liquid despite appearing solid, and faint red symbols pulsed across its faces in hypnotic patterns.

The artifact radiated wrongness, its magic twisting my stomach into knots.

Through our bond, I felt Elias’s shock and recognition. “Blood magic,” he breathed, so softly I barely heard him. “That’s what they’ve been powering with sacrifices. But… what is it for?”

The hooded figures parted, and a tall figure stepped forward, removing his hood with deliberate slowness. Even from our hiding place, I could feel Elias’s entire being freeze beside me, his emotions shutting down so completely it was like he’d disappeared from our bond.

“Elias’s father,” Caden whispered, his hand finding Elias’s in the darkness.

The man below us surveyed the damaged foyer with cold satisfaction, his aristocratic features eerily similar to Elias’s but devoid of any warmth.

Behind him, several more figures removed their hoods, some human, others distinctly fae.

I recognized at least three members of the Seelie Court among them, minor nobles who’d always sneered at my family’s parties.

“The attack worked,” Elias’s father announced, his voice carrying easily through the hall. “The wards are down, just as our intelligence suggested. The tetrad bond has failed.”

One of the fae stepped forward, her copper hair catching the light. “And my son?” she asked, her voice carrying no trace of maternal concern.

My heart stopped. “Mother,” I hissed, instinctively shrinking further behind the foliage. Was she involved with the Purity Front? Had I asked for help from the wrong person?

“If he’s alive, Lady Briar, we’ll find him,” Elias’s father replied smoothly. “Though in his weakened state, he may not survive what comes next.”

My mother nodded, her perfect features betraying nothing. “A pity. But necessary sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”

Atlas’s hand clamped down on my shoulder as rage surged through me. His grip was iron, keeping me from doing something stupid, like revealing our position. Through our bond, I felt his silent warning. Not yet .

“Begin the ritual,” Elias’s father commanded. “The Cube of Binding requires activation before we can proceed with the cleansing.”

The hooded figures arranged themselves in a precise formation around the floating obsidian artifact. As they began chanting in unison, the symbols on the cube pulsed faster, bleeding from deep crimson to blinding scarlet.

“What the hell is that thing?” I whispered.

“It’s a prison,” Elias replied, his voice hollow. “A soul prison. They’re going to trap us inside it, then use our power to fuel their revolution.”

The blood drained from my face as the implications hit me. Through our tetrad bond, I felt the others’ horror matching my own. We weren’t just facing execution, they wanted to trap our souls and use us as an eternal power source.

“The ritual is nearly complete,” one of the hooded figures announced, their voice muffled by the fabric. “The Cube has accepted the sacrificial offerings we provided.”

My stomach turned as I realized what sacrificial offerings meant. How many innocent people had died to power that abomination floating in our foyer? Students from the academy? Random humans who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Through the leaves, I watched my mother examine the illusory damage with detached interest. “The destruction is quite thorough,” she observed, running a gloved finger along a fake scorch mark on the wall. “Though I’m surprised they managed to damage the mansion this extensively before succumbing.”

“Desperate creatures fight hardest when cornered,” Elias’s father replied, his cold gaze sweeping the room. “But their struggles only delayed the inevitable.”

The chanting grew louder, more urgent. The cube began to spin slowly, its liquid surface rippling faster as the blood magic reached its crescendo. Red light poured from the symbols, casting everything in hellish shadows.

“Now,” Elias’s father commanded. “Activate the binding protocols.”

One of the fae nobles stepped forward, pressing her hands against the cube’s surface. The moment she made contact, the artifact pulsed with such intensity that I had to squeeze my eyes shut against the glare.

When I opened them again, tendrils of crimson energy were snaking out from the cube, searching the mansion like hungry serpents. They passed right through our illusions, seeking living magical signatures to ensnare.

“They’re scanning for us,” Atlas growled, his werewolf instincts screaming danger.

“Hold still,” Elias whispered urgently. “Don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t even think too loudly.”

But it was too late. One of the energy tendrils paused directly below our hiding spot, its crimson glow intensifying as it locked onto our position. The cube’s spinning accelerated, and several of the hooded figures turned their attention upward.

“Found them,” my mother said with satisfaction, her emerald eyes finding mine through the foliage. “Hello, darling son. Did you really think you could hide from your own mother?”

I felt my blood run cold as my mother’s emerald eyes locked with mine. She’d always been able to see through my illusions, even as a child. No matter how elaborate my magical pranks, she’d find me hiding behind them.

“Wild,” Elias whispered urgently, his magic flickering to life despite his attempts to suppress it. “Don’t react. It’s what they want.”

But it was too late. The crimson tendrils from the cube shot upward, tearing through Caden’s carefully crafted foliage like it was paper. The plants withered on contact, turning black and crumbling to ash.

“Run!” Atlas roared, shoving us toward the back of the gallery as the first tendril lashed toward us.

We scattered, abandoning stealth for speed as the crimson energy pursued us. Elias grabbed my hand, pulling me toward a hidden door behind a tapestry. Through our bond, I could feel his desperate plan forming: split up, divide their attention, make them work for each capture.

“The trap,” I gasped as we ran. “Elias, the wards?—”

“Not yet,” he hissed, yanking me through the doorway into a narrow service corridor. “We need them to split up and follow us first. The mansion’ll have a better chance then.”

Behind us, I heard Caden cry out in pain, the sound echoing through our tetrad bond like a physical blow. Through our connection, I felt something cold and wrong trying to separate him from us, like fingers prying at the edges of our shared consciousness.

“They’ve got Caden,” I panted, terror gripping my heart as we sprinted down the corridor.

“Keep moving,” Elias commanded, his magic beginning to pulse around his hands. “Atlas will take care of him. Trust the plan.”

The mansion’s corridors twisted around us, responding subtly to Elias’s magic despite the apparent deactivation of the wards. Doors appeared where none had been before, hallways stretched impossibly long, and staircases spiraled in disorienting patterns.

“Where are we going?” I asked, struggling to keep up with Elias’s determined pace.

“The heart of the mansion,” he replied, his voice tight with concentration. “If we can reach the library, we can hide there while the house picks them off one by one.”

A shout echoed from behind us, followed by the sound of running footsteps. Through the bond, I felt Atlas’s fierce protective rage as he fought to free Caden. Their emotions were distant now, muffled by whatever the cube was doing to our connection.

“My son,” called my mother’s voice, eerily close despite the distance we’d covered. “Why make this more difficult than it needs to be? The Cube of Binding will take your soul, regardless. The only question is how much pain you’ll suffer first.”

“Charming woman, your mother,” Elias muttered as we rounded another corner.

“About as charming as your father,” I retorted.

Elias grinned despite the situation. “Who knew we had so much in common?”

Through the bond, I felt Caden finally break free, Atlas’s protective magic surrounding him as they ran deeper into the mansion.

Relief flooded through me as I felt our bond strengthen again, Atlas and Caden’s presence returning to full clarity. They were alive, unhurt, and moving toward the east wing, where the morning room would provide multiple escape routes.

“This way,” Elias said, pulling me down a spiral staircase that definitely hadn’t existed when we first arrived at the mansion. The stones beneath our feet pulsed with subtle magic, guiding us deeper into the house’s hidden passages.

Behind us, I could hear the Purity Front spreading out, their footsteps echoing through different corridors as they searched. Perfect. The more they dispersed, the easier it would be for the mansion to isolate and eliminate them.

“The library’s just ahead,” Elias whispered, pausing at a heavy oak door carved with protective runes. “Once we’re inside, I can activate the trap.”

But as he reached for the handle, the door exploded outward in a shower of splinters. Three hooded figures stood in the doorway, their faces hidden, but their magical signatures blazing with hostile intent.

“Found you,” one of them hissed, raising a wand that crackled with purple energy.

I reacted instinctively, my fae magic erupting in a chaotic burst that sent all three attackers flying backward. They hit the far wall with bone-crushing force, their bodies going limp as they slumped to the floor.

“Wild!” Elias gasped, staring at the unconscious forms. “How did you?—”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, looking at my hands in shock. The magic had felt different, wilder than usual, and more natural than anything I’d ever done. “I just... reacted.”

Through our bond, I felt a pulse of approval from the house around us. The mansion was watching, waiting, ready to assist when needed. But it was still holding back, waiting for the right moment to spring its trap.

“Come on,” Elias said, tearing a large piece of splintered wood out of his arm. Blood flowed, but not enough to be a cause for concern. “We need to get into the library before?—”

A scream echoed through the mansion, high and terrified. Not one of ours, but definitely human. Through the walls, I could hear shouting, confusion, the sound of running feet in multiple directions.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

Elias stood there, staring down at the wound on his arm. “The mansion,” he whispered. “It’s begun.”