Page 126 of Magical Mayhem

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The wordshe’s awakeninghung in the corridor like smoke no breeze could clear. My pulse thundered in my ears, but I forced myself to meet the eyes of the women standing before me.

Grandma Elira’s gaze turned unfocused, as if she were staring at something far beyond us.

Keegan’s mother stood stiff, unreadable, though I thought I saw her fingers curl tightly against her palms.

And Stella, bless her dramatic soul, looked like she was ready to throttle the shadows themselves with nothing but a shawl and sheer will.

I nodded to them, steadying my breath.

“He heard our song,” I said quietly. “That’s why he’s stirring. That’s why Malore is restless. He knows we’re calling. And he’s nervous. Nothing more.”

The air tightened as the words landed.

My grandma’s distant gaze deepened, and a sorrow threaded through her.

She looked almost translucent and fragile, as if the weight of memory was thinning her, as if she knew something she didn’t want to face.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft but heavy with truth.

“My husband has always been up to something,” she murmured. “Always pulling threads, lacing paths none of us can straighten. It has been out of my control since the beginning.”

Her admission settled in me like ice. This was bigger than curses, bigger than Wards, bigger even than Malore. The roots of it had been coiled around us long before I took my first breath.

I straightened, forcing a steadiness I didn’t feel.

“Then we don’t waste time. Gather the students in the banquet hall. Every single one. They need to see us united, no matter what’s clawing at the Wards.”

Stella raised one brow. “You want to herd a flock of midlife witches into a single room while Malore tests the skies?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “Because fear scatters. Unity holds.”

She tilted her head, her lips twitching despite herself. “Fine. We will pretend we’re prepared because that is all we have.”

“In my humble opinion, preparation is overrated,” Twobble said, eyeing me.

“Your opinion is never humble,” Skonk snorted as Keegan pushed himself off the wall.

“You should go to your quarters,” I told him gently. “Rest. You’ve given enough tonight.”

His jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “Not happening. I’m feeling much better.”

“Keegan.”

“I said no,” he snapped, softer but unyielding. “I won’t be kept down while the students are gathered, while Malore teststhe Wards, while Gideon…” He trailed off, fury and grief tangling his voice. Then he looked at me, and the stubborn line of his mouth softened just enough. “Don’t ask me to sit this out, Maeve. Not now.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to drag him back, shove him under blankets, and force him to sleep because what if this sudden boost of energy was a trick? Malore gets them out in a fight and then destroys them?

But I knew that look in his eyes. It was the wolf in him, the protector, the man who’d been left once and swore he’d never leave anyone else behind.

So I nodded. “Fine. But stay with the others.”

“When have I obeyed?” A smirk appeared. “I’m feeling fine.”

For now.

A roar outside prickled the edges of the Academy, and my heart stuttered.