Page 30 of Hexmate (Widdershins Supernatural Academy #1)

Chapter 30

Atlas

I ’d spent the past three days in the infirmary in Caden’s room, just sitting by his bed. I didn’t go to class, and I barely slept. If my friends didn’t bring me food, I wouldn’t have eaten. My mate was in some sort of magical coma, and I couldn’t even think about doing anything else but being at his side. The doctor said he should’ve woken up already, but he’d yet to rouse from his slumber. Even with the mate bond, he was too far for me to reach. So, all I could do was wait.

Karrick and Wild had already visited more than once, trying to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. They’d woken up the moment Damien Cromwell was killed. It seemed the blood curse Rowan had used required some of Damien’s blood, so when he died, the curse disintegrated. And Rowan, lucky to be alive, turned himself in the moment security came rushing through the barrier and found us in the clearing. Apparently, the lightshow and the massive two-hundred-foot tree that used to be Caden’s father alerted them to our presence.

When the investigators from the Elder Council came knocking, I gave them the recording crystal and walked away. Between that and Rowan’s confession, they saw no reason to investigate further. As far as they were concerned, Caden had killed his father in self-defense. That combined with the sudden awakening of several school board members who had apparently been under Damien’s influence put the entire case to rest in a matter of a day or two.

The plan to separate witches and monsters was scrapped and Widdershins Academy, along with her students, was saved. Everything was as it should be once more, thanks to my mate and his unwillingness to give in.

Now I just needed Caden to wake up.

I traced the freckles on his pale cheek, connecting them like constellations. He looked so peaceful, almost ethereal, with his blonde hair splayed across the pillow. The bruises from the battle had faded to yellow smudges, but the magical exhaustion—that was another matter entirely.

“Come back to me,” I whispered, pressing my forehead against his. “Please, Caden.”

The bond between us hummed, but it was like shouting into a cavern—the echo returning hollow and distant. The doctors had explained that using so much raw power at once had forced his magic to retreat deep within him to heal. They’d never seen anything like the pure elemental force he’d channeled that night.

A soft knock at the door made me lift my head. Professor Blackwood entered, her usual severe expression softened with concern.

“Any change?” she asked.

I shook my head, throat tight. “Nothing.” I burned her a dirty look. “Not that you care.”

She cautiously approached the bed, placing a wrinkled hand over Caden’s. “The Council’s healers are arriving tomorrow. They specialize in magical depletion cases.”

I really didn’t want her in there, but she knew more about this stuff than I did. “Will they be able to help him?”

“If anyone can,” she said quietly, “they can. Elder Voss has been treating magical exhaustion for over two centuries.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The professor lingered, studying Caden’s face with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“You blame me,” she said finally. Not a question.

“You knew what Damien was. What he was capable of. You even reported to him about Caden’s movements.” My fingers tightened around Caden’s limp hand. “And you did nothing to stop him.”

Professor Blackwood’s shoulders sagged. “The Cromwells have been untouchable for generations. Their influence extends far beyond what you can imagine.” She looked at me directly. “But yes. I should have done more to protect him. And I see now that my… prejudice has gotten in the way of my judgement.”

The admission startled me. I’d expected denials or justifications.

“He’s stronger than any of us realized,” she continued, gently brushing a strand of hair from Caden’s forehead. “The amount of power he channeled should have killed him instantly. The fact that he’s still breathing is...” She trailed off, shaking her head in wonder.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked, sensing her hesitation.

She sighed, her gaze drifting to the window where the evening light cast long shadows across the room. “What Caden did—channeling that much elemental magic and destroying someone as powerful as Damien Cromwell in an instant—it’s not just rare. It’s supposed to be impossible for a witch his age.”

“But he did it,” I said, my thumb tracing small circles on Caden’s palm.

“Yes,” Professor Blackwood said, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Which means the Cromwell bloodline isn’t what everyone thought. Damien was obsessed with purity, but the irony is that Caden’s power suggests something… that Damien made a mistake.”

I looked down at Caden’s peaceful face. “What kind of mistake?”

“It’s my belief that Damien Cromwell had a child with someone that was not a witch.”

My head snapped up. “What? That can’t be. His father seemed so sure!”

“And yet the ritual turned on him thanks to Caden’s blood. If he was pure-blooded as Damien thought, that would never have happened.”

“I thought it was because we broke the blood curse. Because my werewolf healing replaced all his blood.”

“A good theory,” she nodded. “But unlikely. It’s more likely that Caden’s mother was some sort of nature spirit or a dryad, masquerading as a witch. And whoever she was, she was powerful enough to fool one of the most powerful men in the entire country.”

I stared at Professor Blackwood, trying to process her words. “A dryad? Are you serious? Does Caden even know this is possible?”

She shook her head. “I doubt it. And there’s no way to confirm without finding his mother.”

My mind raced. If Caden wasn’t purely witch, but part nature spirit, it would explain his affinity for plants, how the forest seemed to bend to his will that night. The way the massive tree had consumed Damien, branches and roots entwining around his struggling form until there was nothing left but bark and leaves where a man once stood.

“So, what does this mean for him now?” I asked, squeezing Caden’s hand tighter. “Will it help him recover?”

“It might. Nature spirits heal differently than witches. They draw energy from the earth itself.” Professor Blackwood moved to the window, pulling the curtains fully open. “Perhaps what he needs isn’t just time, but connection.”

I followed her gaze to the academy grounds below, where winter still clung to everything, cold and icy, the earth fast asleep. The idea clicked instantly.

“You think I should take him outside?”

Professor Blackwood looked back at me. “Not just outside, but someplace special. Someplace that means something to him. A place he found joy with the green things of the world.”

“The herbalism conservatory,” I whispered. It was the only place on campus with green life while the depths of winter clung to the land around us. “But… how do I get him out?”

“Leave that to me,” she grinned. “Take your mate and bring him back. He still has several essays to finish for my class.”

“Several essays?” I laughed despite myself. “He’s in a magical coma and you’re worried about homework?”

Professor Blackwood’s lips twitched. “Maintaining normalcy is important. Besides, his analysis of sympathetic magic theory was quite promising.”

After she left to arrange our unauthorized field trip to the conservatory, I leaned close to Caden’s ear.

“Did you hear that? Even in a coma, you’re impressing the teachers.” I brushed my lips against his temple. “Always the overachiever.”

A few minutes later, Professor Blackwood returned with a set of master keys and a mischievous grin. I lifted Caden gently out of the bed, throwing him over my shoulder.

“The night guards have been temporarily… reassigned,” she whispered as we slipped through the infirmary doors. “You have an hour before they realize he’s gone.”

“Thank you,” I said, giving her a nod.

“Don’t thank me,” she replied, a pained look on her face. “I have a lot to make up for after some of the things I’ve been teaching in my classes. This is only the beginning of my penance.”

With one last nod, I snuck down the hallways, Caden bobbing lightly on my shoulder. Outside the academy was eerily quiet as we moved through the deep snow. Moonlight spilled through skeletal trees, painting silver paths across the untouched drifts. I kept one hand on Caden’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my palm. Thankfully we didn’t have far to go.

The glass dome of the herbalism conservatory glowed with an ethereal light against the night sky. It was past curfew, so the structure stood empty and quiet, a sanctuary of greenery amid winter’s grip. I paused at the door, fumbling with Professor Blackwood’s keys until I found the right one.

Inside, the air was warm and alive with the scent of earth and growing things. Tropical plants and magical herbs thrived under enchanted lights that mimicked the sun’s rays. This was Caden’s favorite place on campus—the place where I’d first watched him in his element, hunched over a rare moonflower, his slender fingers working with such gentle precision that I’d stood transfixed, unable to look away.

I carried him to the center of the conservatory where a small clearing opened among the foliage. Carefully, I laid him down on the soft moss that carpeted the ground.

“Here we are,” I whispered, kneeling beside him. “Can you feel it? All this life around you?”

His face remained serene, unresponsive. I swallowed my disappointment and stretched out beside him, pressing my body against his. The mate bond thrummed between us—a faint melody where once there had been a symphony. Still, it was something to hold on to.

I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes, willing my strength into him. The conservatory hummed with life around us, plants shifting and rustling despite the absence of any breeze. Minutes passed, and I began to wonder if Professor Blackwood had been wrong.

Then I felt it—a subtle change in the air, a gathering of energy that made the hairs on my arms stand up. I opened my eyes to see tiny motes of green light drifting from the plants, floating toward Caden like fireflies drawn to a flame. They hovered over him, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.

“Caden,” I whispered, hardly daring to breathe.

The lights descended, sinking into his skin. Where they touched, his freckles seemed to glow briefly, constellations illuminating across his pale face. His breathing deepened, and a flush of color returned to his cheeks.

I felt the bond between us suddenly flare—no longer distant but immediate and vibrant. The surrounding plants began to grow at an accelerated pace, vines reaching toward us, flowers unfurling all over the conservatory. The vines curled around us, not threatening but protective, creating a cocoon of green. Flowers bloomed in rapid succession, their petals reaching wide in a kaleidoscope of colors. The air grew thick with their fragrance, sweet and heady.

Under my hands, Caden’s skin warmed. His chest rose and fell more deeply, and the freckles across his face continued to shimmer with that strange green light. The mate bond between us pulsed stronger with each passing second, a tide returning after the ebb.

“That’s it,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to his. “Come back to me.”

His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. Once. Twice. My heart leapt into my throat.

Then those blue eyes—the same shade as the summer sky—opened, focusing slowly until they found mine.

“Hey,” he said, voice raspy from disuse. His lips curved into a weak smile. “Did I miss anything important?”

A laugh burst from me, half-sob and half-relief. “Just a few classes. Nothing major.”

Caden’s brow furrowed as he took in our surroundings, the canopy of vines and flowers that had formed around us. His eyes widened as he noticed the plants still growing, responding to his presence.

“Did I... do this?” he whispered, lifting a trembling hand toward a vine that immediately curled around his fingers like an affectionate pet.

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Three days of fear and waiting crashed down on me at once, and I buried my face against his neck, inhaling his scent—soil after rain, wet leaves, and something uniquely him.

“You’ve been out for three days,” I finally managed. “After what happened with your father...”

His body tensed beneath mine. “My father,” he repeated, voice hollow. “I remember... everything.” His free hand moved to my face, gently turning it so our eyes met. “I… I killed him.”

“He was going to kill all of us,” I said firmly. “The Elder Council ruled it self-defense already thanks to Rowan’s testimony and the recording crystal. It’s over, Caden. You’re safe.”

The plants around us rustled, responding to his emotions. Caden’s breathing quickened, and I could feel his heart hammering against my chest. The surrounding vines tightened slightly before relaxing again, mirroring his anxiety.

“I turned him into a tree,” he whispered. “I felt his consciousness fade as the bark covered him. He was... terrified.” His voice broke on the last word, and tears welled in his eyes. “What does that make me?”

I cupped his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “It makes you a survivor. He would have killed you without hesitation. He was going to sacrifice all of us for his twisted ideals.”

A tear slipped down Caden’s cheek, and where it landed on the moss, tiny white flowers bloomed instantly. Neither of us could ignore what that meant.

“There’s something else you should know,” I said carefully. “Professor Blackwood thinks... she thinks your mother might not have been a witch.”

Confusion flickered across his face. “What? But my father was obsessed with purity. He wouldn’t have?—”

“Maybe he didn’t know,” I suggested. “Blackwood thinks your mother might have been a dryad or some kind of nature spirit.”

“Why does she care? She hates me.”

I nodded. “I think she might’ve seen the error of her ways.” Caden scoffed and I couldn’t help but agree with him. Admitting a mistake didn’t automatically equal forgiveness. “She said it wasn’t enough to redeem her, so she’s going to try to do better. In fact, she’s the reason I brought you here, the reason you’re awake again.”

Caden stared at me, his blue eyes searching mine. “She… She wanted to help me?”

“Yeah. And you don’t have to forgive her right away, but I think she means well.”

“What about Karrick and Wild?!” he spat suddenly, sitting upright. “Are they okay?!”

I took his shoulders in my hands, holding him steady as he swayed. “They’re fine. They woke up the moment you killed Damien.”

“And the academy?—”

“Is back to normal,” I said softly, smiling at him. “The dean rescinded his statement, and the board of governors is back in its right mind again.” I pulled him close, my hand on his cheek. “You did good, Caden. A lot of good.”

He stared at me, his eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Am I really free?” he asked softly. “At last?”

“Free of Damien Cromwell? Yes,” I nodded, pressing my lips to his. “But free of me? Never.”

His breath hitched for a moment, the plants around us glowing soft and golden. “I… I love you, Atlas.”

“I love you too, Caden.”