Page 73 of Heartflame

Behind him came Elias, dark and furious, his eyes already scanning the room with lethal precision. Atlas filled the doorway next, fully shifted into his werewolf form now, fur bristling along his massive shoulders, teeth bared. And Caden brought up the rear, hands already crackling with magic.

“Oh good, you’re here too Mother,” Wild said, rolling his shoulders. “That’ll make cleaning up this mess much easier.”

Chapter 31

Quill

Thaddeus’s laughter died in his throat like someone had reached in and strangled it.

For half a second, nobody moved. The chandelier light flickered off the wreckage of the door, dust still swirling where Atlas’s massive shoulders had shoved through the frame, and I stood frozen with my empty hand still outstretched from throwing the vial, feeling every eye in the room shift away from me and toward the newcomers. My humiliation into something more hopeful, except I didn’t trust hope anymore. Hope was what had gotten me thrown down into that basement in the first place.

“Wilderain,” Thaddeus said, recovering himself easily. “How resourceful of you. Though I confess I’m curious how you found your way past my wards.”

“Please.” Wild flicked a bit of splintered wood off his shoulder like it personally offended him. “Your wards are older than my grandmother’s dentures and twice as loose. The moment they flickered so you could pass through, Elias cut a door without you noticing.”

Elias didn’t smile. His dark eyes swept the room once, cataloguing everything, the chains, the undead, Morgana’s mask, the crystal floating high above us, and the blood still crusted on Aeron’s foreleg. Then his gaze lifted to me and I saw the puzzle pieces all click into place.

“Are you alright, Quill?” he called. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“I… I’m fine,” I managed to stammer out.

“How touching,” Morgana said as she stepped forward, green magic snapping to life around her fingers. “A rescue party. Truly, Wilderain, you never do know when to stop getting in the way.”

“Yeah, well.” Wild rolled his neck, the bones cracking loudly as his form shifted into that of a true fae. “Turns out I’ve got a thing about my mother trying to murder people. Let’s call it a character flaw.”

Atlas let out a growl that vibrated in my chest even from thirty feet away, and I saw two of the witches near the wall actually step backward, their courage failing them in real time. Caden’s hands were already glowing white-hot, vines and roots pushing up through the floor around him. For the first time since I’d been dragged into this foyer, I let myself believe, just a little, that maybe we weren’t all going to die here.

Then Thaddeus moved.

He didn’t go for Wild, or Elias, or any of the people who’d come to actually fight him. He turned, fast enough that his tail cracked against the marble like a whip, and grabbed me by the throat.

“Ah, ah,” he said, lifting me clean off my feet as my hands scrabbled uselessly against his golden claws. “Let’s not be hasty. I still have a use for this one.”

The room tilted. Black spots bloomed at the edges of my vision as his grip tightened, just enough to make breathing difficult and my head swim. Somewhere below me, chained to the floor, I heard Aeron roar, the sound raw and wild and filled with anger.

“Let him go,” Elias said, and his voice had dropped into something low and guttural that I’d never heard from him before. Magic gathered around his hands, crackling with energy. “Last warning, Thaddeus.”

“Or what?” Thaddeus’s grip on my throat tightened another fraction, just enough that stars burst behind my eyes. “You’ll do a spell on me? Please. I have killed witches far more talented than you with a flick of my wrist.”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. All I could do was hang there, my vision swimming, watching Wild’s face shift from cocky amusement into worry. Thaddeus had the upper hand, even I knew that. He was using me as a pawn to control them. For a moment, I wished I’d just used the poison on myself, that way they could rescue Aeron without worrying about me. But the potion just lay on the floor, shimmering and useless, just like my magic.

Thaddeus took a few steps back, carrying me with him. At the same time, the dead and the Purity Front pressed in on all sides, creating a circle of protection around him. Morgana took point on the other side of the room, the pair of them trying to trap our rescuers between them.

“The Elder Council already knows what you’re up to, Thaddeus,” Wild called, not giving the undead a second glance. His focus was entirely on the dragon holding me by the neck. “The truth is out, and your plans are ruined. Let the boys go.”

“I already killed five of the Elder Council,” Thaddeus growled back. “I’ll kill the rest of them too, including you. Then I’ll rebuild this world exactly the way it should be.”

My throat burned where his claws dug in, and black spots kept swimming across my vision, but I forced my eyes to stay open. I needed to see this. I needed to know what was happening even if I couldn’t do anything about it.

“You already lost, old man,” Wild said, a mocking tone in his voice. “You just don’t know it yet.”

“Bold words from a fae who’s about to watch his little friends die.”

Elias didn’t wait for permission. His hands snapped forward, and threads of magic lashed out toward Thaddeus. But the dragon twisted at the last second, using me as a shield. Elias managed to redirect the spell at the last moment. It veered off, exploding against one of the undead instead, disintegrating it into ash and bone fragments that scattered across the marble.

“Careful,” Thaddeus laughed, tightening his grip on my throat again. “Wouldn’t want to hit your little witch friend by accident.”

I clawed uselessly at his wrist, my nails scraping ineffectually against scales harder than steel. Somewhere below and to my left, I heard Aeron straining against his chains again, the metal groaning under the force of his desperation.