Page 22 of Magical Mayhem (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #7)

The inn’s door shut behind me with a hollow thud, sealing off the warmth of Stella’s chatter and Skonk’s ridiculous frying pan. For a moment, I just stood there, letting the night press against me.

The cobbled lane stretched ahead, lanterns flickering on their hooks, halos of golden light paling against the bruised, roiling sky. The shadows above didn’t simply loom; they shifted. As if the moment I stepped outside, they noticed.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I muttered.

The shadows rippled in response, curling across the rooftops, stretching toward me like smoke-filled fingers. Not striking. Not yet. Just… acknowledging.

It sent a chill spiraling down my spine, but it also lit something else in me.

Resolve.

They wouldn’t be paying me this kind of attention if I weren’t closer to the truth.

I moved quickly down the sidewalk, sandals clipping the stone. Each step seemed to stir the shadows higher, the air thick with their watching. They didn’t want me to do this. Which meant, of course, that I absolutely must.

Because I knew now what had to be done.

Keegan’s mother, the Silver Wolf, had returned to Stonewick. Not for tea, not for nostalgia, not for her son’s approval. She’d returned because Malore had stirred the curse deep enough that even the land itself was calling its guardians back, and she knew her son was in danger.

The clans couldn’t ignore it, no matter how fractured they’d become. They heard the call, and it told me why Keegan had been spending time looking into the night sky and the moon in recent weeks.

If she was here, then the shifters as a whole had to know something. They had to be whispering about Malore’s motives, the cracks in the Wards, the Academy’s awakening. Maybe they were even moving in ways we couldn’t see.

And if I could reach her… maybe I could finally pry out the missing piece.

The thought steadied me as I wound through the quieter streets, the air heavy with the faint scent of bread cooling in ovens and the sharp nip of rosemary from the garden shop. Stonewick looked deceptively normal. Things even felt back to normal.

But above, the sky writhed, the shadows gathering thicker, as though debating whether to swoop down or simply follow me wherever I went.

“Go on then,” I muttered, forcing a smile. “Follow me. You’ll see where this ends.”

The truth was, I didn’t know where it would end. But I knew the next step: the Silver Wolf.

Of course, she wasn’t the type to leave a calling card.

That made things difficult.

I paused at the corner of the square, staring up at the inn’s roof looming against the restless sky. Maybe Keegan knew. He might not want to admit it, but wolves had a way of finding each other, especially blood.

The thought made my chest ache. Keegan was already unraveling under Malore’s curse, shadows curling around him like chains. Asking him to dredge up the ghost of his mother’s presence might tear him further apart.

But I couldn’t do this without him.

The Silver Wolf wasn’t someone you just tracked down with a lantern and a hope. She was his mother, wrapped in fur and fury, the kind of woman who could make clans rise or scatter with a single glance. If anyone had a clue where she was, where she might be hiding, it was her son.

Keegan.

I turned back toward the Academy, and the shadows slithered after me, darker now, more insistent. They rippled across the cobbles like spilled ink, curling around lampposts, slipping along the eaves of the houses.

A breeze stirred, with the feel of dark fog. It whispered against my ear in a way that almost sounded like laughter, but made me feel like I was in Shadowick.

I clenched my fists, refusing to quicken my pace.

“Laugh all you want,” I said under my breath. “You won’t win.”

But my stomach knotted all the same.

When I moved swiftly down the narrow alley, through the Butterfly Ward, and into the Academy’s gates, the shadows recoiled slightly, hissing against the barrier, but they didn’t scatter. They were waiting. Watching.

I slipped through the gates and into the courtyard. The familiar hum of the Academy rose to greet me, its magic curling like warm air against cold skin. The relief was short-lived, though, because I knew where I had to go next.

Keegan’s room.

The thought made my heart stutter. He hadn’t looked good when I left him—too pale, too weak, his breath too shallow. And worse, his words still echoed in my ears. He’s too close. Gideon’s too close.

That memory alone nearly sent me running the other way. But I forced myself forward, up the steps and through the quiet halls, until I stood outside his door again.

I pressed my palm against the wood, the warmth of the Wards humming faintly through it.

How could I ask this of him? How could I drag him deeper when he was already drowning?

But I didn’t have a choice.

I knocked softly, barely more than a tap, then pushed the door open.

The room was dim, fire burning low in the hearth. Ardetia was gone, perhaps fetching something, leaving only Keegan propped against his pillows, eyes half-lidded, staring into the embers. He looked worse with his wet hair, pale lips, jaw clenched as though holding off some unseen blow.

My chest clenched at the sight.

His eyes flicked toward me, sharp despite the exhaustion. “Maeve.”

I shut the door behind me, moving to his side. “How are you?”

He let out a breath that was half laugh, half growl. “You already know the answer.”

I sat carefully on the edge of the bed, smoothing the quilt. “You’re right. But I need to ask you something anyway.”

His brow furrowed. “This isn’t about Gideon again, is it?”

The name alone made me wince. “No. Not this time.”

I hesitated, then met his eyes squarely. “It’s about your mother.”

His jaw tightened instantly, a muscle twitching in his cheek. “What about her?”

I steadied my breath. “If she came back to Stonewick, it wasn’t by accident. Malore’s stirring something big, and the clans have to know it. She has to know it. And if there’s even the smallest chance she’s here to fight him, then I need to find her. I need to speak with her.”

Keegan’s eyes darkened, storm breaking under the surface. “You don’t want that.”

“Maybe not,” I admitted. “But it isn’t about want. It’s about what has to be done.”

The shadows outside pressed harder against the windows, rattling faintly in their frames. The fire sputtered as though pushing back against their weight.

I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “Keegan, you know where she might be.”

He stared at me, his breathing shallow, his silence louder than any storm.

And in the hush, with the shadows clawing at the glass, I realized the next move depended entirely on him.

Keegan’s eyes narrowed. He swallowed, his throat working before the words came, low and grudging.

“I don’t know where she and my father went after Stonewick fell to the curse,” he said finally. His voice cracked, not from weakness but from the weight of memory. “They vanished into the wilderness. I stopped wondering.”

I leaned forward, realizing he was telling the truth.

“She’s been here twice already,” he went on. “That means she’s close. She wouldn’t stray far, not now. But, Maeve…” His eyes cut back to me, storm-dark and steady. “You shouldn’t just start searching for her.”

The firmness in his tone startled me.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because she doesn’t want to be found,” he said simply.

“The Silver Wolf obviously only comes when she chooses. She isn’t a thread you can pull on, isn’t a trail you can track.

If you start looking, you’ll just stir the shadows harder.

You’ll draw Malore’s attention, and worse, you’ll draw hers.

And trust me, Maeve…” He exhaled sharply. “She can’t be trusted.”

The words silenced me. I stared at him, at the sweat darkening his hair, at the faint tremor in his jaw, at the way his hand twitched against the quilt as though the curse wouldn’t let him rest.

He wasn’t wrong. He rarely was, when it came to survival.

But survival wasn’t enough anymore.

I let the quiet stretch between us, the fire popping softly in the hearth. Then I asked, very carefully, “What if we didn’t go searching?”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“What if we lured her here?”

Keegan blinked.

I pressed on, words tumbling faster now, gathering momentum the way thoughts always did when they finally clicked.

“She’s here for a reason, Keegan. She’s circling Stonewick because she knows what’s at stake. Maybe she’s waiting for something, waiting for the right call, the right sign. What if we gave her that? Enticed her to come to us instead of chasing her through the Wilds like…like fox and hound.”

Keegan’s lips twitched, though it wasn’t quite amusement.

More like disbelief. “Entice her? You make it sound as though she’s a cat you can call with a saucer of cream.

Don’t forget she abandoned Stonewick. She can’t be trusted.

Just because she got a bit of delayed parent guilt doesn’t make her useful. ”

I smiled faintly, though my chest ached. “Very true.”

He shook his head, letting his eyes fall shut briefly. “She doesn’t wait for anyone.”

“Then what do you call this?” I asked softly. “What brought her back?”

His eyes snapped back open, glaring, but the sharpness in them couldn’t hide the truth. She was close. Too close to call it coincidence.

Keegan sagged back into the pillows, his breath rattling slightly. “Maeve…”

I reached for his hand, resting mine lightly atop his. “You said yourself she’s near. And you know she’s aware of what’s happening—Malore, the Academy, all of it. So why hasn’t she shown herself fully? Because she’s waiting. Wolves circle before they strike. Maybe she’s circling us now.”

The firelight flickered over his face, shadows deepening the lines of exhaustion. For a long moment, he said nothing.

Finally, he rasped, “Even if you’re right… what do you think you can offer her that would make her step into the open? She turned her back once. She might again.”

“Maybe not an offer,” I said slowly. “Maybe a truth. The land itself is mending, Keegan. Nova said it. Ardetia said it. We’ve seen the Academy open and thrive, and Stonewick village invite guests in droves.

The factions are circling back together.

Witch, fae, and shifters reuniting. Stonewick is pulling its threads tighter.

Your mother is part of that weave, whether she admits it or not.

If she wants to be part of saving it, she’ll come. ”

Keegan’s jaw clenched. “And if she doesn’t?”

“Then at least we’ll know.”

The silence that followed was so thick it pressed into my ears. The shadows outside the window writhed harder, as though they didn’t like the sound of this at all.

Keegan’s fingers twitched against mine, his strength faltering, but his eyes holding steady. “You’d gamble on her, Maeve? On the woman who left me bleeding in Stonewick’s ashes, who abandoned everything she claimed to protect?”

My heart cracked at the pain in his voice, raw and bare.

“I’d gamble on Stonewick and the Academy,” I whispered. “And if that means gambling on her… yes. I would.”

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.