Wylder’s jaw tightens as he moves to the scratches on my neck. “A displacement illusion. That’s a nasty combination with a shadow hex.”
Rowan tsks and perches on the arm of the couch. “Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. They must’ve cast a draw on her at some point.”
Wylder, Orion, and Rowan share a look I don’t understand, but I think I get the gist of it. “Are you saying someone spelled me to go outside?”
“Likely it was some kind of compulsion,” Orion says flatly.
Wylder finishes with the last scratch and sits back on his heels, his expression dark. “They lured you out there.”
The realization washes over me like a bucket of ice water dumped on my head. This wasn’t opportunistic. Someone planned this.
“Can you find out who?” I ask.
Wylder stands, the healer replaced by something colder. “I’ll look into it, but odds are whoever did this has already covered their tracks.” He looks at each of us in turn. “Everyone back to bed. And Poppy… stay inside this time.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The morning air bites at my cheeks as I stand in a training ring, surrounded by the forest of the academy. Dew clings to blades of grass, catching the early light. Birds call to each other from the surrounding trees, oblivious to the magical training session about to unfold.
I can almost see the faint shimmer of magical wards encircling the training space, or maybe that’s just my imagination filling in what Wylder told me is there.
“Again.” Wylder’s voice is patient but firm. “Feel the boundary of your energy, then extend it outward.”
I close my eyes, trying to concentrate.
For the past two days, we’ve been working on me generating a personal shield. Apparently, it’s an essential defensive technique for any self-respecting witch.
One I could’ve used to protect myself the other night from the attack of shadows.
So far, I’ve produced exactly nothing useful.
“It’s like drawing a boundary around yourself,” Wylder explains for what must be the tenth time. “Not a wall, more like a bubble. It holds an intention. It can be something like, ‘you can’thurt me’ or ‘you can’t get to me’. Whatever your intent, you need to focus on that thought and bring it into reality.”
I get the concept. I really do. But the energy is slippery, like trying to hold water in cupped hands with too many gaps between my fingers. Every time I think I’ve got it, the power drains away before I can shape it.
I extend my hands, palms facing outward, and try again. A wobbly shimmer appears, about the size of my palm and just as unstable as the last five attempts.
“Believe it or not, you’re getting closer,” Wylder encourages. “Now try again, hold it steady, and let it grow.”
The shimmer wavers, then pops like a soap bubble. Frustration burns in my chest. I drop my hands to my sides. “I don’t understand why this is so hard. I accidentally summoned a warehouse full of vengeful spirits last week. Why can’t I do this basic thing on purpose?”
Wylder doesn’t flinch at my outburst. “Because intention without control, and fueled by fear, is like a flame to dry brush. You didn’t summon those ghosts as much as the magical chaos within you exploded in an effort to save yourself.”
He straightens and offers me a sad smile. “You must’ve been terribly afraid for that to have happened.”
Yeah, no shit. Waking up at the mercy of five whack-job witches experimenting on you can do that to a person.
“And while I don’t view what happened the same way you do, I’m sorry for my part in making you feel threatened.”
My mouth falls open, my cheeks flushing hot. An apology from Broody McScowlyface? Um, wow.
I look around, but I don’t see any pigs flying.
An awkward silence stretches between us, charged with something I can’t name. Wylder shifts his weight, looking almost uncomfortable—an expression I’ve never seen on his usually stoic and stupidly handsome face.
“I…”
“Well, well. Look who’s getting private lessons.” The feminine voice slices through the moment like a dagger. I turn to find Amber strolling toward us, her auburn-haired friend at her side. Both wear a smug expression as if they’re the keepers of a secret.
