Page 49 of Heartflame

“Come on, Red,” I said, pulling him away from the chaos. “Let’s go!”

“Shouldn’t we tell your grandfather?” Quill asked, still not moving. “If the security team is overrun, he might not know yet.”

“We can teleport to the estate as soon as we’re away from here,” I shouted back. “Please Red, we need to go!”

But the moment I turned back toward the woods, I saw the figures shambling toward us. They were even more disgusting up close, their movements so unnatural that it made my stomach turn. As much as I wanted to shift into my dragon form and burn them all to ash, I knew I was still far too young to be breathing fire. The only thing I had on my side in that form was size, and that wouldn’t be enough against their numbers.

I grabbed Quill’s wrist and pulled harder, not bothering to wait for his agreement as I turned us back toward campus. We needed distance between us and the undead. Now. Behind us, I could hear the wet sounds of corpses shambling across the manicured campus lawns, could smell the stench of death and decay growing stronger with each passing second.

The student center loomed ahead, its heavy doors still unlocked. I yanked Quill toward it, my half-shifted form giving me the strength to move faster than any human should be able to. A group of terrified freshmen were huddled near the entrance, but they scattered when they saw us coming, mistaking my partially transformed state for another threat.

“In here!” I called to Quill, pulling him through the doors and slamming them shut behind us.

The locks wouldn’t hold for long, but they might buy us enough time to figure out our next move. I pressed my back against the glass, trying to catch my breath while keeping my eyes on the undead that were beginning to circle the building like predators.

“Can we teleport from inside here?” Quill asked, his voice shaking but focused. “Even with the wards down?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, hating the admission. “Teleportation requires anchors. The estate grounds have them, but I’ve never tried to jump without a circle set up on my side too.” I turned to look at him, and even in the chaos, even with undead running toward us, all I could focus on was the fear in his eyes. “It might not work.”

“So we’re stuck,” he said flatly.

“Not necessarily.” I pulled out my phone, the one I’d taken into town with us, with shaking fingers, trying to call my grandfather. The signal was there, at least. That was something. But when I hit dial, nothing happened. The call wouldn’t go through. “Damn it. No fucking service.”

Another crash against the doors. The undead were testing them now, their rotting hands leaving smears of decay across the glass. I watched in horror as they began to pile up, using their own bodies as a battering ram.

“There’s a back exit,” Quill said, already taking a few steps back. “We could make a run for it⁠—”

The moment he said it, there was a bright flash of green magic outside the doors. All at once the dead stopped ramming and turned their attention on something else. The scent of magic filled the air, raw and powerful. It was distinctly fae with that undertone of too-sweet flowers that fae magic always had.

There were shouts and yells and the sound of dead bodies being torn apart. And then, for one brief moment, everything was silent. I held my breath, waiting for the chaos to erupt once more. Instead, I saw a figure appear beyond the door, silhouetted against the night. The doors creaked once and burst open. Behind them was the last person I ever expected to see.

“Lysander,” I breathed, recognizing that long blonde hair and those mischievous green eyes immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded, though relief flooded through me at the sight of him. Lysander stood in the doorway covered in black ichor, his fae magic still crackling around his fingertips in that distinctive green glow. Behind him, the scattered remains of at least a dozen undead were strewn across the campus lawn.

“Saving your ass, apparently,” Lysander said with that infuriating smirk of his, stepping inside and kicking the doors shut behind him. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“How did you—” I started, but Quill cut me off.

“You knew?” Quill asked Lysander, his voice sharp. “You knew about the breach before the alarms went off?”

Lysander’s expression flickered for just a moment, something crossing his face that looked almost like guilt. “I was already awake when your boyfriend came to warn you.” He turned to me, his green eyes sharp despite the casual tone. “I love that you didn’t try to wake me up, by the way.”

“I was worried about Red,” I said, my tone defensive. “He’s my top priority.”

“Well, he’s your mate, so that makes sense.”

I froze and I felt Quill prickle beside me.

“Mate?” Quill looked up at me. “Is that true?”

My jaw began to work as I tried to formulate a response, but no words came out.

“Yes, he’s your mate,” Lysander said, filling in the gaps. “It’s obvious from the way he’s been acting around you. But we don’t have time to worry about that right now. We need to destroy as many of these undead as possible before the Purity Front shows up behind them.” He gave me a discerning look. “The last thing I need is Elder Thaddeus’s grandson getting hurt during an attack. He’d never forgive me.”

“Forgive you?” I scoffed. “He doesn’t even know you. And I can take care of myself.”

“You really don’t recognize me, do you?” Lysander grinned.

“No. Why the hell should I?”