27. Aeron
Aeron
The moment I laid eyes on Morgana, I knew we were fucked.
We were trapped inside the mansion with her, the wards still holding strong, with no way of communicating with the outside world.
And despite my dragon heritage, I knew she could overpower me easily.
I glanced at Quill, seeing the same desperate look in his eyes.
“Run,” I said, grabbing Quill’s hand and pulling him backward toward the corridor we’d just emerged from. “Now.”
But Morgana’s laughter stopped us cold. It echoed through the foyer like breaking glass, and I felt Quill flinch against me.
“Do you really think you could escape?” she asked, raising one gray hand. The undead lining the walls began to move, their jerky, unnatural gait carrying them toward us with horrifying speed. “This is my domain now, boy. Every stone, every spell, every servant in this house belongs to me.”
The mansion shuddered around us, and I realized with dawning horror that she hadn’t just attacked the wards, she had rewritten their magic completely down to the very foundations. The walls themselves had become her weapon.
I felt the temperature in the foyer drop as the magic in the air grew thick and suffocating.
The undead were closing in from all sides, cutting off our escape route.
I could smell the rot on them, could hear the wet sounds of their movements, and my dragon instincts were screaming at me to shift, to fight, to do something other than stand frozen like prey.
“Come on,” I growled, pulling Quill harder as I looked desperately for another exit.
The foyer was massive, but it suddenly felt like a trap.
The grand staircase was blocked by at least a dozen corpses.
The corridor behind us was filling with more.
And the Purity Front members were advancing slowly, their magic crackling around them like a predator savoring the hunt.
“Aeron, the windows,” Quill said urgently, his grip on my hand tight enough to hurt. “We can—”
“We can’t get past her magic,” I cut him off, already feeling the way Morgana’s power had woven itself into every part of this place. The windows would be sealed just like everything else. She’d thought of everything.
I realized I only had one choice if I wanted to protect my mate.
Giving Quill a shove backward, I allowed the dragon to take over my completely, my body shifting much faster than I’d ever done before.
My bones cracked and reformed as scales erupted across my skin.
My wings tore free from my back in a burst of red-gold light that filled the entire foyer.
I heard Quill gasp as I expanded to my full dragon form, my massive body taking up nearly half the space in the grand hall.
The undead nearest to me recoiled instinctively, their rotting bodies sensing the apex predator that now stood before them.
“Foolish boy,” Morgana snarled, her voice taking on a sharp edge of anger. “Did you really think brute strength would save you?”
She raised both hands, and the green magic surrounding her intensified.
The undead surged forward as one, a tide of rotting flesh that crashed against my scaled form.
I roared, the sound reverberating through the mansion as I lashed out with my claws, tearing through corpses with brutal efficiency.
Black ichor sprayed across the marble floors, but there were so many of them.
For every one I destroyed, two more seemed to take its place.
I had to get Quill out. That was the only thought that mattered now.
I swung my massive tail, using it to clear a path toward the grand staircase.
The undead flew backward, their bodies breaking apart like rotten wood.
But Morgana’s magic was everywhere, wrapping around my limbs, burning like ice and fire combined.
I snarled at her, my golden eyes meeting her masked gaze with pure defiance.
“You cannot win,” she said, and I could hear the certainty in her voice. “I have had decades to prepare for this moment. You are nothing but a child.”
She was probably right. But I didn’t care. All that mattered was protecting Quill.
I jumped in front of him to protect him, wrapping my massive dragon body around him to keep him shielded from the undead.
The witches got closer, casting their spells meant to maim, but nearly all of them ricocheted off of my scales.
Here and there one made a shallow cut, but I ignored the pain, keeping my gaze fixed on Morgana.
I snapped my jaws and tossed my head, trying to look as intimidating as possible.
But she only laughed.
“Come now, Aeron,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “You’re only delaying the inevitable. Surrender yourself and I’ll let your little witch walk away from this. Isn’t that what you want? To protect him?”
I wanted to believe her, wanted to think there was any possibility she’d keep her word. But what little I’d heard from Wild was enough to know that mercy wasn’t in her vocabulary. She was toying with us, savoring our desperation like a fine wine.
Behind me, I felt Quill’s hand gripping my scales, his whole body trembling. I could smell his fear, sharp and acrid, mixing with the stench of death that surrounded us. The bond between us thrummed with his panic, and it made my rage all the stronger.
“Never,” I snarled, my voice a rumbling growl that shook dust from the ceiling. “You won’t touch him.”
Morgana tilted her head, that white mask catching the light in an almost curious gesture. “How touching. The dragon thinks he can protect his mate from me.” She raised one hand, and the green magic around her intensified tenfold. “Let me show you exactly how outmatched you truly are.”
The spell she unleashed was unlike anything I’d ever encountered.
It wasn’t a simple attack, it was a wave of pure corrupted magic that tore through the foyer like something from the cosmos itself.
The undead parted before it, and the witches behind her shielded themselves with barriers of their own magic.
I had nowhere to go.
I spread my wings wide, trying to use my body as a shield, and took the full force of her attack.
The magic hit me with the intensity of a lightning strike, burning through my scales and pulling a guttural scream from my lips.
It felt like acid and lightning combined, like every nerve ending in my body was on fire.
I stumbled backward, my feet scraping against the marble floor as I fought to stay upright.
Quill cried out behind me, and I realized some of the magic had gotten past my defenses, had caught him. The sound of his pain cut through the haze of agony better than any physical wound could have.
“Red!” I roared, my head whipping around to check on him.
He was on his knees, clutching at his arm where blood was seeping through his sleeve. Not a lot, thank the gods, but enough to make my entire world narrow down to a single point of white-hot rage.
For a moment, I thought I would go mad and break through all the pain and magic just to get her in my jaws.
But then, with a snap of thunder, the green magic transformed into magic chains, binding my entire body.
I thrashed and roared, trying to break free.
But the more I struggled, the tighter they became.
Until, at last, I felt my feet come out from under me.
With a reverberating crash, I hit the floor, my legs bound, my wings crunched, and my jaws chained tightly shut.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t do anything to help my mate.
Morgana stepped forward slowly, her footsteps echoing through the foyer with deliberate precision.
I watched helplessly as she approached Quill, who was still on his knees, his hand pressed against the bleeding wound on his arm.
Every instinct in me screamed to break free, to fight, to do anything but lie here broken while she loomed over my mate.
“Please,” Quill said, his voice shaking but defiant. “Just... just take me. Let him go.”
The sound of his sacrifice, his willingness to offer himself up to save me, made something crack open in my chest. This was my fault. I’d brought him here. I’d promised him safety.
“How noble,” Morgana laughed, reaching down to grab Quill’s chin, forcing him to look up at her. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, little witch. You see, this entire situation was orchestrated perfectly. Every move, every attack, every seeming victory, they all played right into my hands.”
My blood ran cold as the weight of her words sank in. What did she mean? Had she planned the breach at Widdershins? Had she wanted us to escape to the sanctuary? Had she known we would come here?
“Your friends thought they were so clever,” she continued, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she circled Quill like a predator.
“Sealing me away beyond the gate of death in that cube. But he never understood that I’d already prepared for that.
Intended for it really. Because if they hadn’t, I never would’ve become as powerful as I am now.
In life I was great, but in death I am unstoppable. ”
She released Quill’s chin and turned back to face me, her masked gaze burning into mine with an intensity that made my skin prickle despite the chains holding me down.
“Your grandfather is with the Elder Council right now,” she said, and I felt my stomach drop.
“Discussing how to stop me. How to protect the paranormal world from the Purity Front. But while they sit in their comfortable halls making their precious plans, my people are moving. We’re hitting every major magical stronghold simultaneously.
The wards at Widdershins were just the beginning.
By the time your grandfather stirs the Elder Council into action, it will be far too late. ”
No. No, this couldn’t be happening. If she was telling the truth, if the Elder Council was already too late to save everyone…
“And there’s one final piece of the puzzle you still don’t know about,” she grinned. “The thing that will break you and this entire world all at once.”
She paused, letting the tension stretch between us like a wire about to snap. My eyes darted from her to Quill, then back again. I wanted to roar, to demand she tell me what she meant, but the chains around my jaws held firm. All I could manage was a low, desperate rumble in my chest.
“You see,” Morgana continued, her voice taking on that theatrical quality that Wild had warned me about, “your precious Elder Council isn’t just facing an external threat.
There’s a traitor inside the council itself.
Someone who’s been feeding me information for decades.
Someone who helped orchestrate every single one of these attacks. ”
My blood ran even colder. A traitor? One of the Elder Council members working with her?
It seemed impossible, and yet... I thought back to everything that had happened.
The perfectly timed attacks. The way the undead seemed to know exactly where to strike.
The breaches at the wards that had come in waves, like someone was testing their strength rather than genuinely trying to break through at first. And the fact that she’d known to be inside the Pyre estate before it was locked down.
“Who?” Quill asked, his voice hoarse. He’d pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly. The wound on his arm continued to bleed, but he seemed more focused on Morgana now than on his own pain. “Who’s helping you?”
Morgana laughed again, that horrible sound like breaking glass. “Wouldn’t you like to know? But I think I’ll let that be a surprise for when the truth is revealed to all. The look on your faces will be absolutely exquisite.”
She turned away from us then, gesturing to the witches and undead surrounding us.
“Tie the dragon down and take the witch to the dungeon,” she commanded.
“I want them secured and conscious. We’re going to use them as leverage.
After all, what better way to break the Elder Council’s resolve than to torture their beloved son to death? ”
Cold dead hands reached for me, but I thrashed against the chains with renewed fury. I had to get free. I had to protect Quill. This couldn’t be how it ended, trapped and helpless while she executed whatever twisted plan she’d been orchestrating all along.
“Don’t worry, dragon boy,” Morgana called over her shoulder as she walked toward one of the grand doorways.
“You’ll get your chance to be useful soon enough.
After all, I need your blood for the final step.
And once I have it...” She paused, her masked head turning back toward us with an air of finality.
“Well, let’s just say the paranormal world as you know it will cease to exist.”
The undead dragged me across the marble floor, my wings scraping uselessly against the stone. I caught one last glimpse of Quill being roughly handled by two of the witches, his eyes meeting mine with a desperation that mirrored my own.
I’d failed him. I’d promised to keep him safe, and I’d failed.
The chains tightened around me as they hauled Quill deeper into the mansion. And as he disappeared down a hallway, I realized the horrifying truth of Morgana’s words.
I would never see my mate again.