Page 74 of Hexmate

I felt something warm trickle down my nose—blood. The magical barrier I’d created was draining me faster than I’d expected. My father noticed too, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“You see? Already weakening. Your power is raw, undisciplined.” He extended his hand again. “Come with me. I can teach you control. Teach you to channel the same power that flows through my veins.”

“I’ll never go with you! You’re not my father!” I cried.

Damien just laughed before his gaze darkened and his hand outstretched. “Let me prove it to you.”

All at once, the shield surrounding Atlas and I shattered. Rowan fell to the ground in a heap, no longer moving. Atlas was blown backward off his feet. But me, I was shunted forward, Damien’s hand wrapping around my throat as he lifted me off my feet. He raised me a few inches off the ground, a silver blade appearing in his other hand.

“The curse will be completed tonight,” he growled. “Widdershins Academy finally purified. And then you’re coming home with me, whether you like it or not.” He glanced over at Atlas. “Your familiar can come with, but he’ll have to be caged. I don’t believe in keeping pets.”

I tried to speak, but with his fingers squeezing my throat, no sound came out. Most of my magic had been drained away by my shield, so when he raised the blade to my arm, there was nothing I could do. A cruel grin spread over his face as he slashed downward, the flash of silver followed by white-hot pain. Warmth flowed down my arm, dripping off my fingertips and onto the ground. Damien began to chant, the clearing around us suddenly glowing a dull sapphire as rune and arcane symbols appeared on the ground.

The symbols pulsed with an unnatural light, drinking in my blood as if alive. Each drop that fell to the ground sent ripples through the clearing, causing the air to vibrate with ancient power.

“Your blood recognizes its purpose,” Damien whispered, his face transformed with ecstasy. “The Cromwell lineage was always meant for greatness.”

Behind him, I saw Atlas rising, his transformation accelerating. His shoulders broadened, bones shifting beneath his skin as fur began to sprout along his jawline. His golden eyes burned with primal rage, fixed on the man who held me tight in his grasp.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” My father continued, oblivious to the threat behind him. “The power of our ancestors flowing through this sacred ground. Widdershins was built on Cromwell blood, and with Cromwell blood, it will be cleansed.”

I tried to speak, to warn Atlas to stay back, but my father’s grip tightened, choking off my words. The blood continued to flow from my arm, each drop igniting another symbol on the ground. The blue light had grown brighter, casting Damien’s face in harsh relief—making him look more monster than man. Behind his cruel smile, I saw something ancient and hungry, something that had been waiting for this moment for far longer than my twenty years of life.

Atlas lunged forward, a blur of muscle and rage, but my father merely flicked his free hand without even turning. An invisible force slammed into Atlas, sending him crashing into a nearby oak with a sickening crack. He slumped to the ground, momentarily stunned.

“Predictable,” my father sighed. “Wolves always attack from behind.” He twisted my arm, forcing more blood to drip onto the increasingly complex pattern forming beneath us. “Your pet will watch as you fulfill your destiny. And then he’ll become nothing more than a battery for your power.”

Through the pain and fear, something shifted inside me. The vines that had withered earlier began to stir, reaching tentatively upward from the earth. I felt them respond to my silent call, drawing strength not from my depleted magic but from something deeper—the land itself.

My father continued his incantation, his voice rising to a crescendo as the runes beneath us pulsed with malevolent energy. “With this blood sacrifice, I bind the Academy to the Cromwell line forever. Let all creatures not of pure blood be cast out or destroyed!”

The arcane circle around us suddenly turned a vibrant, electric blue. My father let out a howling cackle as more and more blood poured from my arm. However, he was so caught up in his reverie that he didn’t notice what happened the moment the droplet hit the ground.

No longer was my blood feeding Damien’s magic. Instead, vines and flowers pushed up through the snow, vibrant and green with energy. My blood seemed to shift too, taking on a metallic green tinge as it spilled from my body. As the plants pushed through the runes glowing near the ground, the magic turned from electric blue to yellow-green. It spread slowly at first, then faster and faster as it rewrote the very fabric of the spell Damien was casting.

My father noticed the shift too late. His incantation faltered as the greenish light crawled up his legs like living vines. His eyes widened with a mixture of rage and—for the first time—fear.

“What have you done?” he hissed, loosening his grip on my throat just enough for me to gulp down precious air.

The forest around us seemed to breathe with me. Trees creaked and swayed without wind. Flowers bloomed impossibly in the winter night. The ground beneath our feet hummed with ancient power—not the corrupted magic my father had summoned, but something older, purer.

“I didn’t do anything,” I rasped. “My blood is rejecting you.”

“That’s impossible!” he cried, both of his hands clamping around my neck. “Cromwell blood can’t reject this ritual!”

“I’m not a Cromwell,” I uttered, my fingers wrapping around his wrists as my strength returned to me. I loosened his grip, the green magic digging into his skin and constricting him tightly. “I shed all that blood days ago. Every last drop.” I looked him dead in the eye, seeing the first flicker of fear I’d ever seen there before. “I’m a Faolan.”

Damien’s face contorted with rage and disbelief. “What did you say?” he snarled, his fingers digging deeper into my throat even as the verdant magic crawled up his arms.

“I’m a Faolan,” I repeated, strength flowing through me like sap through a tree.

Behind him, Atlas rose to his feet, his transformation nearly complete. Black fur covered his Alpha form, his clothes torn from the shift. His golden eyes locked with mine, understanding dawning between us.

“Atlas and I bonded. I made him my familiar. And then I broke your curse by bleeding myself dry… and replacing it with his.”

My father’s eyes widened in horror. “You fool! You’ve corrupted our lineage?—”

“I purified it,” I countered, feeling Atlas’s presence behind me, his energy merging with mine through our bond. “Your blood was the corruption.”

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