Page 5 of Faeheart (Widdershins Supernatural Academy #2)

Elias

I sat ramrod straight in the uncomfortable wooden chair across from Professor Blackwood.

In the back of my mind, I heard my mother nagging me to keep my shoulders back and my chin high, sitting proud and tall to honor the Thorne family name.

Even now, when she wasn’t sitting a few feet away, I still heard her voice.

And after years of acquiescing to her demands, my body was too used to being stiff to even consider slouching.

The professor’s study looked exactly as I’d expected.

It was full of meticulously organized bookshelves, ancient tomes arranged by subject matter, and not a speck of dust to be found.

Her desk was polished mahogany, the surface clear except for a leather-bound notebook and a silver athame that caught the late afternoon light streaming through the stained-glass windows.

“Mr. Thorne,” Professor Blackwood said, her voice crisp as autumn leaves. “Thank you for your punctuality.”

“Of course, Professor,” I replied automatically, my voice carefully modulated to that perfect tone my parents had drilled into me, respectful without being obsequious.

She regarded me over the rim of her spectacles, her piercing gaze making me feel as though she could see straight through to my grandmother’s journal hidden in my bag. I resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably.

“I assume your parents have informed you about the nature of this independent study?”

“Yes, Professor. Wild magic. Pre-colonial practices.”

She nodded, making a small note in her book. “And what are your thoughts on exploring magical techniques outside the structured methodologies you’ve been raised with?”

It was a trap. It had to be. I chose my words carefully.

“I believe that understanding the foundations of our craft can only strengthen our modern applications,” I said, the rehearsed answer flowing easily.

Something like disappointment flickered across her face. “A diplomatic answer, Mr. Thorne. But I’m not interested in diplomacy for this project. I’m interested in truth.”

Before I could formulate a response, the door to the study burst open.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor. Got caught up in... well, something that’s definitely not against school rules.”

I turned to see a tall young man with wild ginger hair sauntering into the room. He wore ripped jeans, a faded t-shirt with some obscure band logo, and an expression of practiced nonchalance that immediately made my spine stiffen further. Everything about him screamed rebellion.

“Mr. Briar Hall,” Professor Blackwood said, her tone resigned rather than angry. “Your timing is, as always, impeccable.”

“I try,” he replied with a grin, dropping into the chair next to mine. He sprawled in it like he owned the place, all loose limbs and casual confidence. “Is this Thorne?”

His eyes, a startling shade of green with flecks of gold, swept over me with undisguised curiosity. I felt myself being assessed and somehow found wanting in the span of seconds.

“Elias Thorne,” I said, extending my hand formally as I’d been taught. “Pleased to meet you.”

He looked at my hand with amusement before taking it. His skin was warm, almost unnaturally so, and I felt a strange tingle where our palms connected. “Wild. Just Wild.”

I recognized him immediately as fae. The slightly pointed ears, the mischievous grin, and that unmistakable aura of chaotic energy that seemed to vibrate the air around him.

This was Wilderain of the Briar Hall, son of a high-ranking Seelie Court family.

I’d heard whispers about him, most of them scandalized.

I withdrew my hand quickly, feeling an unexpected heat coil in my stomach. He was surprisingly beautiful. “You’re fae,” I said, then immediately regretted stating the obvious.

“And you’re observant,” Wild replied with a smirk, leaning further back in his chair and propping one boot on his knee. “What gave it away? The ears? The irresistible charm? The fact that I make this stuffy room about ten times more interesting just by existing in it?”

Professor Blackwood cleared her throat. “If you two are quite finished with introductions, we’re still waiting on our third participant.”

As if summoned by her words, the door opened again, this time more hesitantly. A slender young man with light brown hair and startlingly blue eyes edged into the room, followed closely by a taller, broader student who radiated protective energy.

“Mr. Cromwell,” Professor Blackwood acknowledged with a nod. “And Mr. Faolan, who I don’t recall inviting to this session.”

“Sorry, Professor,” the blue-eyed student, who must’ve been Caden Cromwell, said softly. “Atlas was just walking me here. He’s leaving now.” He turned to the larger student and whispered something I couldn’t hear.

The one called Atlas squeezed Caden’s shoulder once before backing out of the room, his eyes never leaving Caden until the door closed between them.

“Caden!” Wild exclaimed, his face lighting up. “Look at you, showing up almost on time. I’m so proud.”

Caden gave Wild a small smile as he took the third seat. “I live to exceed your expectations.”

I watched this exchange with interest. They clearly knew each other well, which made me the outsider in this trio.

The familiar feeling of being isolated despite being in a room with others settled over me like a second skin.

It was just like being at home or at one of my parent’s lavish parties.

Everyone knew who I was by name, but not me personally.

“Now that we’re all here,” Professor Blackwood said, rising from her seat, “we can begin.” She moved to a large cabinet behind her desk and withdrew a worn leather case.

“This independent study will challenge everything you think you know about magic. It will require you to abandon structure, embrace chaos, and perhaps most importantly, work together.”

Wild snorted. “Chaos is my middle name. Actually, it’s technically ‘ of the ,’ but that’s beside the point.”

I remained silent, watching as Professor Blackwood opened the case to reveal three identical crystal pendants, each suspended on a silver chain.

“These are Resonance Stones,” she explained, lifting one carefully. “Ancient artifacts that respond to raw magical energy. Unlike modern focusing tools which channel and control magic, these amplify it in its purest form.”

She handed one to each of us. The moment the chain dropped into my palm, I felt a jolt of energy that made my teeth ache. The crystal was warm, almost hot, and it seemed to pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat.

Wild whistled low. “These things are illegal in most realms, aren’t they?”

“They’re restricted,” Professor Blackwood corrected. “For good reason. Wild magic amplified through these stones can be unpredictable, dangerous, and...” She paused, her eyes glinting. “Extraordinarily powerful.”

Caden held his pendant gingerly, as if it might explode. “What exactly are we supposed to do with them?”

“Learn,” the professor said simply. “These stones will help you access magical practices that predate modern witchcraft by centuries. Magic that doesn’t follow rules or formulas. Magic that responds to emotion, instinct, and raw will.”

I stared down at the crystal in my palm, feeling it grow warmer by the second. Everything in my upbringing screamed that this was wrong, dangerous, improper. But underneath that voice was another one, quieter but growing stronger, the same voice that had been awakened by my grandmother’s journal.

“Your first exercise,” Professor Blackwood continued, “is to establish a magical connection with your partners. Not a formal bond, but a resonance that will allow you to work together effectively.”

“How do we do that?” I asked, my voice coming out smaller than I’d intended.

Wild grinned, already fastening his chain around his neck. “Easy. We just?—”

The moment the crystal touched his skin, the room exploded with light. Not the clean, controlled illumination of proper spell work, but something wild and chaotic that seemed to dance with a life of its own. The air crackled with energy, and I felt my own pendant grow scorching hot in response.

“Wild!” Caden gasped, his pendant beginning to glow as well.

I looked down at my own stone just as it burst into brilliant white light. The three crystals seemed to be calling to each other, their energies reaching across the space between us like invisible threads.

And then something went horribly wrong.

The threads of energy snapped taut, and suddenly I was drowning in a sensation that wasn’t my own.

Wild’s reckless joy crashed into me like a tidal wave, followed immediately by Caden’s gentle warmth and nervous energy.

But more than that, I could feel their magic, raw and unfiltered, pouring into me as mine poured into them.

The room spun around me as foreign emotions and sensations overwhelmed my carefully constructed mental barriers.

Wild’s memories of summer freedom, the taste of sweet dryad’s cum still lingering on his tongue, the feeling of grass beneath naked skin.

Caden’s recent awakening to power, the intoxicating rush of discovering he was more than he’d ever believed possible, the solid comfort of Atlas’s arms around him.

And underneath it all, something deeper. A connection, raw and primal, that had no place in the structured magic I’d been taught. The three of us were being bound together by these ancient stones in ways I couldn’t comprehend or control.

“Stop!” I gasped, trying to yank the pendant from my neck, but my fingers wouldn’t obey. The crystal seemed fused to my skin, burning white-hot against my chest.

Wild was on his knees now, his face contorted in a mixture of pain and ecstasy. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, his eyes glowing with an unearthly light. “This is?—”

“Too much,” Caden finished, his voice strained as he clutched the edge of his chair. His pendant pulsed with a rhythm that matched my racing heartbeat.