Page 6 of Faeheart (Widdershins Supernatural Academy #2)

Professor Blackwood moved quickly, her hands weaving complex patterns in the air. “This shouldn’t be happening,” she muttered, her usual composure slipping. “The resonance shouldn’t be this strong.”

But her magic seemed to bounce harmlessly off the energy field that now surrounded us. The threads connecting our pendants had become visible, glowing cords of raw power that twisted and knotted together in the center of our triangle.

I could feel my carefully constructed mental walls crumbling as Wild’s chaos poured into me.

His memories of bodies tangled in forest clearings, of magic used for pleasure rather than purpose, of freedom I’d never known.

Alongside it came Caden’s newfound power, vine-like and growing, stretching toward sunlight after years in shadow.

And to my horror, I felt my own rigid upbringing, my secrets, my hidden longings all spilling out to them in return.

“Make it stop,” I pleaded, no longer caring how I sounded. This wasn’t the controlled, dignified magic of the Thorne family. This was something ancient and terrifying.

Wild’s eyes locked with mine across the maelstrom of energy as he stepped closer. “Don’t fight it,” he called, his voice somehow inside my head rather than carried by air and his hands outstretched. “Surrender to it.”

“I can’t,” I gasped, feeling my magic straining against the bonds of my training, wanting to break free and join with theirs.

Wild rushed forward, grabbing me by the hand. “Let go!”

The moment we connected, the knot of energy between us pulsed once, twice, and then exploded outward.

Books flew from shelves, windows rattled in their frames, and the very foundations of the building seemed to shake.

Professor Blackwood was thrown backward against her desk, her protective wards shattering like glass.

Caden was thrown backward as well, crashing against the far wall with a thud.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

I found myself on the floor, my limbs tangled with Wild’s, both of us panting as if we’d run for miles. The pendants had gone dark, but I could still feel him in my mind, his distinct fae presence that hadn’t been there before.

“What... the actual... fuck,” Wild managed between breaths, his face inches from mine. I could count each of his freckles, could smell the lingering sweetness of summer magic on his skin. It was intoxicating…

“Mr. Thorne! Mr. Briar Hall!” Professor Blackwood’s sharp voice cut through the haze. “Separate immediately!”

I tried to push myself up, but my limbs felt like they belonged to someone else. Wild’s magic was still coursing through me, making my carefully ordered thoughts scatter like leaves in a storm. When I finally managed to sit up, the room spun violently.

“Caden,” Wild croaked, rolling away from me and toward where our third partner lay crumpled against the wall. “Is he?—”

Caden stirred, pressing a hand to his forehead. When he pulled it away, there was blood on his fingers. “I’m okay,” he said weakly. “I think.”

Professor Blackwood rushed to him, her hands glowing with healing magic. “This should not have happened,” she muttered, examining the cut on his forehead. “The stones were meant to create a gentle resonance, not a full magical binding.”

“A binding?” I struggled to my feet, one hand pressed against my chest where the pendant still hung, now cold against my skin. “What kind of binding?”

Wild was already upright, moving with that fluid grace that seemed natural to the fae. He looked remarkably composed for someone who’d just been writhing on the floor in magical overload. “The fun kind, apparently,” he said with a grin that didn’t quite hide the concern in his eyes.

“This is not amusing, Mr. Briar Hall,” Professor Blackwood snapped. “You three have just created an unprecedented magical connection. I can feel it from here… you’re linked in ways that will take considerable study to understand.”

I could feel it too, like background music I couldn’t quite turn off. Wild’s presence hummed at the edge of my consciousness, chaotic and warm. I could still sense Caden’s power, of course, but his thoughts and energy weren’t in my head. Not like Wild’s.

“Linked how?” Caden asked, accepting Professor Blackwood’s help to stand. The cut on his forehead had already healed, leaving only a faint pink line.

“I’m not entirely certain,” she admitted, returning to her desk and making rapid notes. “The literature on wild magic bindings is... sparse. Most of the original materials have been destroyed.”

Wild’s expression darkened. “Of course they were. Can’t have people learning magic that actually feels good, can we?”

I wanted to argue with him, to defend the structured traditions I’d been raised with, but the words wouldn’t come. Not when I could still feel the echo of what we’d just experienced. This new magic was almost overwhelming with possibility.

“The immediate concern,” Professor Blackwood continued, “is that you three are now magically entangled. Your spells may affect each other unpredictably. Your emotions could bleed through the connection. And until we know how to fix it, none of you are to use magic. Is that understood?”