Page 75 of Magical Mayhem

The words hung heavy between us.

Keegan let his eyes drift shut, his breath uneven. “You sound just like her when you talk like that.”

The admission stunned me. For once, I didn’t know what to say.

Chapter Twenty-Three

At least for the moment, I could tell myself Keegan wasn’t as bad as Gideon. Gideon had been pale as bone, shadows curling over his face like vines.

Keegan still had some color in his cheeks, some sharpness in his eyes. But as I reached to help him sit straighter, he pushed me off stubbornly and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Keegan—”

“I’m not an invalid,” he growled, bracing his hands against the mattress. He got as far as lifting himself halfway before his strength gave out. His shoulders sagged, his chest heaved, and he collapsed back into the pillows with a thud.

I bit my lip, heart lurching. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

The door opened just then, and Ardetia slipped in with her usual quiet grace. Her sleek hair gleamed in the firelight, and she carried a small covered tray, steam curling out from beneath the lid.

“I thought I might find you here,” she said, setting the tray on the bedside table. “The kitchen sprites prepared broth and honey bread. They seemed quite insistent that he eat, and I’ve learned not to argue with them.”

Keegan scowled, though a flicker of humor touched his lips. “Sprites bossing me around. Perfect.”

Ardetia ignored him and helped him settle upright against the pillows, the motion practiced and smooth. She moved like a healer though she wasn’t one.

Keegan’s gaze cut back to me. “Maeve… don’t involve her. Don’t drag my mother into this.”

The words landed hard. I gave a curt nod, though my chest tightened. I didn’t agree. Not even close. Ardetia’s eyes flicked to mine, a glance sharp as glass, but she said nothing. She didn’t need to; the message was clear. She knew I wouldn’t obey that request.

Keegan bristled, his hand balling in the blanket. “I don’t want to rot here. I’m not meant to be locked in a bed while the world cracks. I need to move.”

I pressed a hand over his, surprised at the heat burning in his skin.

“Needing to move is good,” I said gently. “It means you’re fighting. But you’re not strong enough yet.”

His eyes flashed. “Then I’ll go to my inn. At least there I can breathe without the Academy’s humming in my skull.”

My pulse skittered. The thought of him storming into his hotel and straight into Gideon’s hidden presence made my stomach seize. I squeezed his hand harder. “No. Not yet. Please.”

The door creaked open again. This time it was my father, Frank, pushing it gently with his shoulder as he shuffled inside. His bulldog body moved with the tired stiffness of someone who’d been carrying burdens too long, but his eyes warmed the moment they landed on me. I’d left him in human form backat the cottage, but my mom must have worn him out. He often shifted when he needed comfort.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “Is this a private gathering, or can a dad interrupt?”

Keegan let out a low laugh that sounded more like a cough. “Come in, old man. I was just hearing what your daughter has up her sleeve.”

My stomach dropped. “Keegan…”

“She’s planning to go sniffing after my mother,” Keegan said flatly. “As though dragging the Silver Wolf back into Stonewick will fix everything.”

The room stilled.

Ardetia’s brows arched, though she said nothing. My father’s gaze slid to mine, catching the defiance I couldn’t quite mask. For a heartbeat, I braced for him to scold me, to take Keegan’s side, to tell me to stop meddling.

Instead, he chuckled, rubbing at his whiskered chin. “Well, Keegan, if Maeve failed to mention something, it wasn’tyourmother. It was hers.”

Keegan blinked.

“She’s currently annoying poor Miora at the cottage,” my dad went on, his mouth quirking into a sly grin. “I imagine the two of them are about three spells away from turning the kitchen into a dueling ground. If you want to see true chaos, lad, you should sit in on that.”