Page 152 of Magical Mayhem

But even as they pressed him, I saw it in his eyes.

He wasn’t finished.

His claws lashed one more time, straight toward Keegan.

And I screamed, my body still refusing to move, as time slowed again and the glow blazed brighter than ever.

The night roared, with fire, shadow, and silver, until it seemed the world itself would split in two.

Grandma Elira stood taller than I’d ever seen her, her form blazing with the emerald light of Stonewick’s heart. Malore fought against her grip, his claws tearing, his storm howling, but she would not yield.

Her memories bound him. Malore thrashed, his shadows cracking, his claws tearing against the truth that bound him. The Silver Wolf snarled, my father roared, but it was my grandmother’s glow that silenced even the wickedest of shadows.

She stood taller than any shadow, the light blazing from her like dawn breaking through endless night. Her hair shimmered green-gold, her eyes brighter than emeralds, and for the first time, I saw not just my grandmother, but the guardian Stonewick had hidden away for this very hour.

“Elira!” Malore bellowed, his voice jagged as thunder. “Release me!”

Her voice was calm, steady, and so achingly full of love it made my throat burn.

“I release you, husband… not to shadow, not to hunger. I release you to peace.”

The vines tightened, fire and earth blazing as they wound higher around him. She lifted her chin, and her gaze swept the courtyard—the fighters, the students, the broken, and the brave.

“To you, my kin,” she said, her voice carrying like a hymn, “I leave my hope. That you remember love even when fear tempts you. That you choose forgiveness, not because it is easy, but because it heals. That you walk together, shifter, witch, and fae, bound not by old scars but by new faith.”

Tears burned down my cheeks, hot as the fire in my veins. Keegan’s hand tightened around mine, his eyes wide, every line of him stilling as if the world itself held its breath.

Grandma Elira’s gaze softened as she looked at me. “Maeve, child of my line, do not fear the weight you carry. It is not yours alone. Love will hold you when strength falters. Forgiveness will light the path when shadows linger. And hope…” Her voice broke slightly, but her smile was radiant. “Hope will outlast even me.”

She turned back to Malore, her glow swelling brighter until I could barely see her form at all. “Farewell, old love. I forgive you.”

And with that, she flung her arms wide, the light tearing through shadow, the roots constricting, her body blazing until it became more than light.

It became release.

Their gazes locked, husband and wife, bound by love once, now bound by war.

Her voice rang clear across the courtyard, steadier than the storm, stronger than the fire.

“This ends tonight.”

And with a surge that shook the stones beneath my body, the light blazed, and Malore roared as his body convulsed, shadows bursting in jagged debris, and then he began to crumble.

Not into smoke, not into ash…into sand.

Grain by grain, his vast form dissolved, his roar breaking into silence as he scattered into the night air. The storm above ripped apart with him, shadows hissing and fleeing into nothingness. And then, with one final crack like a bell tolling across the world, the sky cleared.

A starry night stretched overhead, still and impossibly bright.

And Elira was gone.

Her body, too, had turned to sand, dissolving into the same night air, her glow fading until only the stars remained.

Silence fell.

The courtyard groaned as fighters collapsed, shifters dropping to their knees, witches clutching each other, fae pressing their palms to the earth.

Not in jubilation.