Page 77 of Hexmate

“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’vebeen 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 ofany 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 withouthesitation. 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?—”

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