Page 42 of Faeheart (Widdershins Supernatural Academy #2)

Elias

S creams filled the hallways, their echoes dying away as they reached the library.

The Purity Front was trying to find us. But the mansion was finding them first. All of my careful magic woven into the wards activated at once, drawing on the power Thorne had sacrificed to make it all work.

However, I was surprised by the cries of pain and terror reverberating through the house.

I’d intended for the wards to destroy the intruders, but I hadn’t thought much further than that.

Hearing their deaths at the hands of my magic forced me to face the harsh reality of the situation.

It was kill or be killed.

Wild’s hand found mine, his fingers intertwining with mine as another scream cut through the air, closer this time. Through our bond, I felt his complex emotions, satisfaction that our trap was working, but also a deep unease at the sounds of death echoing through what had been our sanctuary.

“I know,” he said softly, reading my thoughts through our connection. “It’s harder than you think it would be, isn’t it? Even when they’re trying to kill us.”

I nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in my throat.

The screams were becoming less frequent now, which meant the mansion was efficiently eliminating our attackers.

My spell, woven into every stone and beam thanks to Thorne, was methodically hunting down the Purity Front members who had scattered throughout the house.

Through our tetrad bond, I felt Atlas and Caden moving through the east wing, their emotions a mixture of grim determination and shared horror as they witnessed the mansion’s deadly work.

They watched as a door sealed shut behind a group of robed figures, trapping them in a room that was slowly filling with poisonous gas.

The next corridor had become a maze, its walls closing in on the remaining pursuers until…

“Stop,” I whispered, pressing my hands against my temples. “I don’t want to see anymore…”

Wild pulled me against his chest, his warmth grounding me as the psychic feedback of multiple deaths crashed through my magical senses. “It’s not your fault,” he murmured into my hair. “They came here to murder us, to trap our souls in that thing. You’re protecting us.”

But even as he spoke, I could feel something else through the mansion’s awareness.

My father was still alive, still moving through the house with purpose.

And he wasn’t alone. Several of the strongest Purity Front members had stayed close to the Cube of Binding, using its power to shield themselves from the mansion’s attacks.

“The cube,” I gasped, realization hitting me like a physical blow. “It’s protecting them. The blood magic is strong enough to resist the mansion’s defenses.”

Wild’s emerald eyes widened with understanding. “How many are left?”

I closed my eyes, extending my consciousness through the house’s magical framework. The mansion’s awareness showed me everything, empty corridors littered with bodies, rooms that had become death traps, and the main foyer where a cluster of survivors huddled around their floating prison.

“Eight,” I said, opening my eyes to meet Wild’s worried gaze. “Including both our parents. They’re keeping close to the cube.”

As if summoned by my words, my father’s voice echoed through the mansion’s walls, magically amplified to reach every corner of the house.

“Clever, my son,” he called out, his tone carrying grudging respect. “Very clever indeed. But did you really think a few animated walls could stop the righteous fury of the Purity Front?”

Wild’s grip on my hand tightened as my father’s voice reverberated through the library walls. “Righteous fury,” he spat. “Is that what he calls murdering innocent people to power that monstrosity? And for what? Because they don’t want mixed marriages or something? Fucking prick.”

Through the mansion’s awareness, I could see my father standing beside the obsidian cube, his aristocratic features twisted with cold determination.

The remaining Purity Front members formed a protective circle around the artifact, their combined magical shields creating a barrier that even the house couldn’t penetrate.

“They’re trying to draw us back to them,” I whispered. “The mansion can’t get to them with the cube’s protection. It won’t be able to finish them off or drive them away.” I glanced up at Wild. “Not without help.”

Wild’s eyes blazed with emerald fire, his chaotic magic crackling across his skin. “Then let’s give them the help they need.”

“Wild, no,” I said quickly, grabbing his arm as he started to move toward the library door. “That’s exactly what they want. The cube needs proximity to living magical beings to complete its binding ritual. If we get too close?—”

“What other choice do we have, Elias?” he said, rounding on me in an instant.

“We can’t just sit here and do nothing! They killed innocent people…

students like us, over this dumb idea that our realms should be kept separate.

” He grabbed my arms, pulling me close. “If we don’t stop them now, more people will die.

I don’t think I can live with that on my conscience, can you? ”

I stared at him for a long moment, surprised by the passion burning through our bond. “I… I don’t want to lose you, Wild. I don’t know if I’d survive it…”

“You’re not going to lose anyone,” he said, fierce determination burning in his eyes. “But if we don’t try to stop these people… well, then we’re going to lose everything and then some.”

“Even if you have to kill your mother?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” Wild nodded. “Even her.”

“I… I don’t know if I can kill my father,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m not sure I have the strength. I’m not like Caden… my father wasn’t bad to me. He was harsh, but not cruel. He taught me almost everything I know…”

Wild put his hands on either side of my face, holding my gaze. “I will… try not to kill him, Elias. But you know as well as I do, if he survives and the Elder Council gets a hold of him… well, that’s it. There won’t be anything we can do to stop them.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of Wild’s words settle over me like a shroud.

He was right, of course. My father’s survival would mean the eventual destruction of everything we’d fought to protect.

Through our tetrad bond, I could feel Atlas and Caden approaching the library, their footsteps careful but determined as they navigated the mansion’s transformed corridors.

“Alright,” I whispered, opening my eyes to meet Wild’s emerald gaze. “But we do this together. All four of us.”

The library door opened silently as Atlas and Caden slipped inside, both of them looking grim but unharmed. Atlas’s golden eyes swept the room, his protective instincts flaring as he took in our tense conversation.

“The mansion’s work is done,” he reported quietly. “Twenty-two bodies in the corridors. Whatever you built into those wards, Elias, it was thorough.”

“Too thorough,” I murmured, guilt twisting in my stomach.

“No,” Caden said firmly, his gentle voice carrying unexpected steel. “They came here with a soul prison, planning to trap us for eternity. They got exactly what they deserved.”

Through our bond, I felt the half-dryad’s absolute certainty, his nature magic singing with the fury of a forest defending itself against wildfire. The contrast with his usual gentle demeanor was startling.

“The survivors are still clustered around that cube,” Atlas continued. “Eight of them, including both your parents. They’re chanting something, and the artifact is responding. Whatever ritual they’re performing, it’s building toward something big.”

As if to emphasize his point, the mansion shuddered around us, books falling from their shelves as a wave of corrupted magic pulsed through the walls. The cube’s influence was growing stronger, pushing back against the house’s defenses.

“We don’t have much time,” Atlas said, looking at each of us in turn. “We need to end this. Now .”

“So, what’s the plan?” Wild asked, his magic crackling beneath his skin like static electricity. “We can’t just walk up to them and ask nicely for them to stop their evil ritual.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the mansion’s awareness flowing through me.

The wards Thorne and I had created were still active, still hunting, but they couldn’t penetrate the protective bubble surrounding the cube.

Something about the blood magic was creating a barrier that even our most powerful spells couldn’t breach.

“The cube is the key,” I said, opening my eyes as inspiration struck. “If we can disrupt its power source, the protection will fail, and the mansion can finish what we started.”

Atlas’s golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “How do we disrupt something powered by blood magic? It’s not like we can unplug it.”

“Actually,” Caden said quietly, “we might be able to.” His magic flickered as he stepped forward, a determined expression on his gentle face. “Blood magic requires constant feeding. If we can interfere with the flow of power between the sacrifices and the cube...”

“We can starve it,” Wild finished, his emerald eyes lighting up. “Cut off its food supply.”

I nodded slowly, my mind already mapping the possibilities.

“The grimoire mentioned disruption points in ritual circles. The energy is stored within the cube already, but the cube itself is the ritual, the binding holding all the souls there. We’d have to be right on top of it to dispel the magic. And it would probably take some time…”

“Which means someone has to get close enough to touch the cube while the rest of us keep the Purity Front busy,” Atlas said, his tactical mind already working through the logistics.