Page 35 of Magical Mayhem (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #7)

Keegan’s weight sagged against the wall as his eyes remained closed. He looked like a man half in shadow, half in light, and caught between the strength he had always carried and the curse that was bleeding it from him day by day.

I stood there with clammy palms and breath uneven, as the words pressed against the back of my throat like fire.

I had to tell him.

Not just because secrets curdle when kept too long. Not just because time was slipping faster than I could hold it. But because Gideon was a thread in this knot, and pretending otherwise was just one more lie in a history already strangled with them.

“Keegan,” I said softly.

His lids fluttered, hazel eyes cracking open. He looked at me, and even exhausted, his gaze still pinned me as if he saw through the cracks I tried to hide.

“What is it?” His voice was rough, rasped low, but steady and kind.

He was beating back the darkness.

I swallowed hard. “There’s something you need to know.”

He pushed off the wall. “If this is about my mother.”

“It’s not.” My voice shook. “It’s worse.”

That got his attention. His brow furrowed, and his shoulders tensed like a wolf scenting danger.

“Maeve—”

“I’ve been hiding something,” I cut in quickly, before I lost my courage. “Not because I wanted to betray you. Because I didn’t know how to say it without breaking everything wide open.”

The hall seemed to tilt, every candle flame pulling tighter and higher.

My chest thudded so loud I was sure the walls could hear it.

“It’s Gideon,” I whispered.

All fatigue burned away in a flash of anger and fear as his gaze stormed.

He straightened fully, wobbling but fierce. “What about him?”

My throat tightened. I forced the words out. “He’s here, Keegan. In Stonewick. I found him. Or he found me. Or Skonk sent him. I don’t even know anymore. But he’s sick. As sick as you, maybe worse.”

Silence stretched, brittle and dangerous.

“Let him die.” He wrenched the last word.

“We can’t do that. He’s the key to unwinding this mess just like you. Even if we destroy Malore, he’s already started the hunger path, and we need a complete circle.”

“You… you what?” His voice was low with a growl undercutting every syllable.

“I hid him,” I admitted, each word tearing from me like bone from skin. “At your inn. Stella and Twobble helped me move him. Nova, Ardetia…they know. He’s been slipping away, Keegan. And I,” My voice cracked. “I couldn’t leave him in the Wilds to die.”

The air between us was thick enough to choke. He stared at me, with his chest heaving, his hands curling at his sides. For one terrible moment, I thought he might turn from me.

But then his knees buckled, and I caught him.

“Don’t,” I pleaded, pressing my forehead to his shoulder, feeling his heat and his tremor. “Don’t shut me out. Please. Just listen.”

I could feel his breath coming fast, rough against my temple.

“Why?” he ground out. “Why would you bring him here? After everything, after what he’s done to this place, to me, to…”

“Because he’s tied to you!” The words tore out of me louder than I meant, echoing in the corridor. “Because whatever Malore cast, it’s eating you both. And I think the only way forward is together. All of us. Whether we like it or not.”

He stilled, my words hanging in the space like frost.

“You think we’re intertwined,” he said, his voice raw.

“I know we are.” I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, even as tears blurred mine.

“I tried to search him through the Hedge, Keegan. I saw things like his childhood, his choices, the moment Malore turned him. But you…” I touched his chest, over his racing heart.

“You’re feeling him too. You knew about something being taken from him, didn’t you?

That wasn’t your memory. That was his. The curse bound you.

You’re connected in ways even I can’t untangle. ”

His eyes widened, fury warring with something softer. Fear, disbelief, and grief churned through his expression. “And you kept this from me?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” I whispered. “I was afraid. Afraid you’d hate me. Afraid you’d hate yourself for feeling anything of him inside you. Afraid of losing you before I even had you.”

His breath shuddered, and for a long moment, he said nothing.

Then, slowly, his hand came up, trembling, and cupped the side of my face. His palm was hot, his touch achingly gentle.

“You’re a fool,” he murmured.

My lips parted, ready to protest.

But then he added, voice breaking, “A brave, stubborn fool. And I love you for it. Maybe I’m more foolish for making you think you couldn’t tell me.”

The words hit harder than any curse.

I leaned into his hand, tears slipping free.

“We don’t have much time,” I whispered. “Not for you. Not for Gideon. Not for Stonewick. The Hunger Path, the curse, Malore, it’s all circling tighter. We can’t keep pretending the pieces don’t belong to the same puzzle.”

His thumb brushed away one of my tears. His expression softened, though the storm didn’t leave his eyes. “And what if the puzzle is missing a piece?”

“We hunt it down,” I answered.

“And if one of the pieces is poisoned?”

“Then we find a way to make the poison the cure,” I said. “Isn’t that what shifters do? Turn weakness into strength? Isn’t that what we all have to do now?”

He let out a low, shaky laugh, almost a sob. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It isn’t,” I admitted. “It’s going to hurt. You might hate me tomorrow. Gideon might spit in my face. But if we don’t at least try, we all go under. Together.”

His gaze locked on mine, steady even in exhaustion.

“Together,” he echoed, the word more vow than agreement.

I leaned forward and kissed him—soft, trembling, desperate. He kissed me back, and for one moment, there was no curse, no Hunger Path, no Malore. Just us, clinging to each other in a corridor where the world could wait.

When I pulled back, breathless, his forehead rested against mine.

“We’re all intertwined,” I whispered. “Every piece. Every wound. Every choice. Whether we like it or not.”

His chest rose and fell against mine. He closed his eyes, his lips brushing my hair. “Then let’s not waste what time we have.”

And for the first time, I believed we could braid the broken pieces into something stronger than the curse itself.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, I could breathe.

Really breathe. The air slid all the way down into my lungs, steady and smooth, without catching on the knot of guilt that had been choking me since Gideon had stumbled back into my life.

Keegan leaned against the wall, his hazel eyes studying me with a weight I couldn’t quite read. And yet, beneath the exhaustion in his frame, there was something steadier now. Something that hadn’t been there before, I told him the truth.

I realized then that telling him was the best thing I could have done. Not because it made me feel lighter, though it did, but because it pulled him into the circle where he belonged. He wasn’t just the wolf I needed to protect. He was part of this. He needed to be part of all of this.

I exhaled, leaning back beside him.

“If it makes you feel better,” I said, breaking the silence with a crooked grin, “you’re in way better shape than Gideon is.”

He straightened immediately, his shoulders squaring, the corner of his mouth curving into something almost smug.

“Would you expect anything different?”

I barked out a laugh, the sound echoing off the stone. “Not for a second.”

The moment didn’t last long.

Footsteps shuffled against the flagstones, and down the hall came Twobble and Skonk, midargument. Twobble’s hands waved wildly in the air, while Skonk’s grin stretched devilishly like he was enjoying every ounce of Twobble’s misery.

“I told you it was fine!” Twobble barked, his voice carrying. “You don’t know the first thing about stable or mule care.”

“And you do?” Skonk cackled. “You wouldn’t know a harness from a hat string.”

Keegan’s brows pulled together.

“What mule?” he asked flatly.

Twobble froze mid-rant, his wide eyes darting from Keegan to me. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. He looked like a carp trying to recite poetry.

Keegan turned slowly to me, suspicion sharpening his gaze.

I gave Twobble the faintest nod. Go on.

Twobble swallowed hard and began, “Well, you see, there’s a mule—”

“Wait, wait, Twiblet,” Skonk interrupted, his grin flashing brighter. “Before we get into who found what mule, tell me…who’s been feeding the thing?”

Twobble gawked at him. “I have, of course! You think I’m some kind of monster? I’m not about to let a mule starve to death!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “This is not the important part.”

Keegan’s jaw flexed. “Where did the mule come from?”

Both goblins went quiet. Even Skonk’s grin dimmed.

At last, Skonk shrugged, unbothered. “Fine. I’ll tell him. I loaded Gideon on the mule, charmed it to trot straight into the Wilds, and let the beast do the heavy lifting. Worked like a charm.”

Keegan went rigid, his hazel eyes snapping to mine.

I grimaced, gave the weakest nod in history. “Long story.”

Silence pressed tight around us, broken only by the distant clatter of dishes from the banquet hall. Keegan’s breath came sharper now, his gaze darkened with a fury that hadn’t yet found words.

Twobble and Skonk glanced between us nervously.

The air shifted. Cold swept down the corridor, so suddenly it raised goosebumps along my arms. The runes above our heads trembled with a faint, uneasy hum.

Keegan stiffened. I turned sharply toward the far end of the hall.

Because from the shadows, something moved.

Not a student.

Something else.

And I knew in my bones, the mule was suddenly the least of our problems.

The air in the corridor tasted metallic. Shadows seemed to shiver at the edges, pressing closer, whispering along the stone.

Keegan’s hazel eyes narrowed, darkened, until they looked almost hollow. His chest rose faster, shallow breaths like a man listening to something no one else could hear.

“Keegan?” I asked, my voice low. I reached for his arm, but his body jerked as if he were pulling against some invisible leash.

He didn’t answer.

The expression on his face gutted me.

Not fear.

Not confusion.

It was the unmistakable look of recognition. As if whatever was in the shadows had called to him before.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. My throat felt tight. “It’s not you. It’s not yours.”

The shadows had sensed his vulnerability with his mom, and now it was their time.

But even as I said it, dread coiled in my stomach. Malore had twisted Gideon with words and promises, had dragged him down the Hunger Path decades ago. And now… now it felt like that same call was reaching for Keegan.

The ancient rites, the true ones meant to bind shifters together, to strengthen the circle, had been warped, poisoned by Malore’s hand. If Keegan heard them now, they wouldn’t sound like unity. They’d sound like power. They’d sound like temptation.

I slid in front of him, hands firm against his chest. “Stay with me. Look at me, not the dark.”

His gaze flicked down to mine, just for a heartbeat. His hazel eyes were clouded, heavy with something I couldn’t quite chase away. But they were still his. Still Keegan’s.

Behind us, Twobble and Skonk had gone uncharacteristically silent, sensing the danger.

“Maeve…” Keegan’s voice was rough, jagged like glass. “It’s calling.”

“I know,” I said fiercely, even though I wanted to deny it. “But you don’t have to answer.”

He closed his eyes briefly, like a man drowning, and I felt the tremor ripple through him.

And then…

A new presence at the end of the corridor.

The ripple shifted, not cold this time, but steady. Ancient.

I turned, and my breath caught.

She was there.

Keegan’s mother.

The silver shimmer was gone, the wolf vanished, but the power clung to her even in human form. Her long hair fell down her shoulders.

She didn’t need words; her eyes carried them all.

For one brief moment, I could almost believe she had been waiting for this, waiting for the exact second Malore’s call reached her son.

Keegan’s breath hitched. His eyes snapped open, blazing hazel, fixed on her. The darkness in them wavered, like the tide pulling against the shore.

She stepped closer, her face unreadable but her presence commanding the shadows to retreat just a little. The Academy hummed louder with attention.

I stayed at Keegan’s side, my hand still pressed to his chest, my heart thundering.

Because I didn’t know if her presence would save him…

…or remind him of every wound she’d ever left behind.

And in that instant, it felt like all of Stonewick’s magic held its breath, waiting to see which way he would turn.