Page 77 of Heartflame

“Aeron,” he said, his voice pleading. “Are you okay? The spores haven’t gotten you too have they?”

I stared up at him, the weight of everything pressing down on me like a stone. I couldn’t speak. All I could manage was a small shake of my head as the tears filled my eyes.

Despite all his betrayal, my grandfather was dead. The only family I had was gone. There was nobody left in this world that I could call my own. Nobody except Quill. The grief was almost too much to bear.

Quill’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest even though I was easily twice his size in this form. He didn’t seem to care about the size difference. He didn’t seem to care about anything except holding me while I fell apart.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into my hair, his voice hoarse and cracked from where my grandfather’s claws had bruised his throat. “I’ve got you, Aeron. I’m right here.”

I buried my face against his shoulder, and for the first time since this whole nightmare started, I let myself sob. Great, ugly, heaving sobs that shook my entire body, that made my chest ache worse than any wound Morgana’s magic had inflicted. Quill just held on, his hands stroking slow circles against my back, murmuring words I couldn’t quite make out over the sound of my own grief.

Around us, the foyer had gone eerily quiet. The last of the undead had collapsed into ruin, Morgana was destroyed along with the Purity Front witches, and my grandfather’s body was slowly dissolving into a mound of dark soil. I could hear Wild’s footsteps approaching, slow and careful, like he wasn’t sure if he dared to break the moment.

“Aeron.” His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it, all traces of his usual mockery gone. “I’m sorry. I know he was your family.”

“He was a monster,” I choked out, lifting my head just enough to look at the wreckage of what used to be Thaddeus Pyre. “He killed people. He killed his own council members. He was going to kill me and let Quill take the blame.”

“He was still your grandfather,” Wild said gently. “Grief doesn’t care about all that. Not right away.”

I knew he was right, even though I hated it. Because underneath all the rage and horror, there was still a small, broken part of me that remembered him teaching me to fly, that remembered him holding me after a nightmare, that remembered him as the only constant in a life that had otherwise been full of loss. That boy still existed somewhere inside me, and he was devastated.

Quill’s hand found my face, tilting it up so I had no choice but to look at him. His eyes were red-rimmed, his throat mottled with dark bruises already blooming beneath his collar, but he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.

“You’re not alone,” he said fiercely. “Whatever else happens, whatever we have to figure out from here, you are not alone. I promise you that. You’re my mate and I love more than anything.”

The words settled over me like a balm on a wound too raw to touch, and I found myself nodding against his palm, unable to trust my voice. I didn’t deserve him. Not after everything, not after failing to protect him, not after being too weak to stop my own grandfather from turning him into a scapegoat for his madness. But he was here anyway, holding me, loving me. I clung to that small mercy with everything I had left.

Behind Wild, I heard Elias and Atlas picking their way through the wreckage, their voices low as they surveyed the damage. Caden had already moved toward the remains of the Purity Front witches Thaddeus had murdered and reanimated, his expression grim as he knelt beside them. But even from a distance I could see the mushrooms beginning to spring from their ruined flesh. It wouldn’t be long before they too were nothing but dirt.

“We should get you both somewhere safe,” Elias said, crouching down beside us. His dark eyes flicked over the bruises on Quill’s throat, over the blood still crusted along my foreleg. “You can’t stay here. The Elder Council will want to investigate.”

“We’ll take them to the mansion in the Veil,” Wild offered, running a hand through his red hair. It was mussed from fighting, sticking up at odd angles, and for once he didn’t look like he cared. “It’s the safest place there is.”

I wanted to argue, wanted to say I could handle myself, that I didn’t need to be coddled and hidden away like some fragile thing. But the truth was, I could barely hold myself upright. My body ached where my grandfather’s teeth and claws had torn through my scales. My chest felt hollowed out, scraped raw from grief I hadn’t even had time to fully feel yet. And Quill, despite his brave front, was swaying slightly on his feet, exhaustion and blood loss catching up to him now that the adrenaline had nowhere left to go.

“Okay,” I said finally, my voice still thick. “Okay. We’ll go.”

Wild nodded, already drawing symbols in the air, murmuring something under his breath. Atlas appeared beside us, crouching down to help both of us to our feet.

“You did good,” he said, holding out a hand. “Both of you. That took guts.”

I didn’t feel like I’d done anything good. I felt like I’d watched my whole world collapse in the span of a single night, watched everything I thought I understood about my family and my history crumble into something unrecognizable. But Quill’s arms tightened around me, and I let myself lean into him, knowing that we’d survived this. That whatever came next, we’d face it together.

“Come on,” Quill murmured against my hair, his voice raw but steady. “Let’s get you somewhere you can rest. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

I nodded and allowed Atlas to pull me to my feet. He wrapped an arm around me, keeping me steady. Quill was on my other side, now supported by Caden who’d come to help.

“I have some healing balms back at the mansion,” Caden said. “I’ll treat you both there before I leave to help the others. It won’t be instantaneous, but you should feel much better by morning.”

“What about the mushrooms?” Quill said, looking up at Caden. “Will they hurt us too?”

Caden shook his head. “That species only grows on decaying corpses. They’re harmless to you and me.” He paused, tilting his head to the side. “How did you come up with that potion, by the way? That was a stroke of genius.”

“I… I got lucky,” Quill replied at last. “I was trying to make poison. I used whatever I could find.”

“Well,” Caden smiled. “Don’t forget what you did. We’ll need to know how to do that if something like this ever happens again.”

Both Quill and I turned to stare at Caden, fear evident in our eyes.