Page 43 of Magical Mayhem (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #7)

The courtyard erupted in bedlam as Malore lunged, his shadowed form blotting out the stormlight. His claws swept down like spears of lightning, tearing trenches into the stone as I dove aside, rolling hard across the ground. Sparks and shards exploded where he struck, the air thick with smoke.

I scrambled up, my palms burning, and thrust both hands to the earth.

The ground answered with a roar once more as spires of jagged rock ripped upward.

Malore snarled as the stone slammed into his chest, knocking him backward a step, but only a step.

He swiped his claws, shattering the spires into rubble that rained across the courtyard.

“You cannot root me out, Maeve,” his voice thundered, heavy with contempt. “I am in the marrow of this land. I am its shadow.”

“I don’t believe you,” I spat, sweat stinging my eyes. “You’re not Stonewick’s marrow. You’re its sickness.”

He laughed, rolling thunder across the skies, and swung again.

This time, I met his strike with a wall of earth, forcing the ground to surge up and harden into a shield.

The impact nearly tore me in two, the stone cracking, splinters of rock slicing my arms, but it held long enough for me to counter.

I flung my arm wide, vines erupting from the cracked wall, thorns glowing with Hedge fire. They lashed around his arm, biting deep into shadow-flesh. Malore roared, his form writhing, and for a heartbeat, I thought I had him.

Then his eyes blazed storm-white, and lightning surged down the vines, running straight into me.

The pain was blinding. It slammed me off my feet, the smell of burning thorns and seared fabric filling my nose. I hit the ground hard, my whole body spasming, and forced air back into my lungs.

Get up, I told myself. Get up, or it’s over.

Malore strode forward, massive, unstoppable, his shadow rolling like waves around his legs. The ground cracked with every step, the air warping with his fury.

“You are not enough,” he hissed. “You never were. Your grandmother bound herself to a cursed Academy. Your father fell to the bite of embarrassment. Your boyfriend is choking on his curse. And you,” he sneered, claws rising high, “you are only firewood for my storm.”

Rage burned hot in my chest, stronger than fear.

I slammed both hands into the stone.

The earth exploded upward, not in spires this time but in a wave, a rolling crest of stone and soil that crashed into him like a sea. He staggered, bellowing as he tore through it with claws and lightning, but I was already moving, already weaving flame into the roots beneath the ground.

The courtyard blazed. Fire shot through cracks, erupting around him, forcing him back. For the first time, his form flickered, dimming where the light struck deepest.

I pressed harder, heat boiling in my veins, sweat pouring down my face. The fire wasn’t just Hedge flame. It was something older, something that surged through me with a hunger that wasn’t entirely mine.

The Flame Ward.

I could feel it. Its ember-deep pulse, its smoldering will. It had always been weaker than the others, faltering, dwindling. But now it was calling, answering, roaring through my blood like a furnace.

Malore staggered, his shadow peeling from his shoulders under the fire’s bite. His eyes narrowed, stormlight flaring.

“You think fire will save you? Fire burns all things, even those who wield it.”

“Maybe,” I said, my voice hoarse. “But fire also purifies.”

I thrust my hands forward, and the ground itself ignited. A torrent of flame roared toward him, wrapping vines of molten light around his form. He howled, the storm overhead flaring so bright it nearly blinded me.

For a heartbeat, he faltered. For a heartbeat, I thought I saw fear in his eyes.

And then he surged again, lightning cracking down his arms, splitting my fire in two. The shockwave knocked me backward, slamming me into the wall of the Academy. Pain flared white-hot across my ribs, my breath stolen clean away.

Through the haze, I saw him advancing, slower now but relentless.

Each step was a quake, each breath a gale.

Behind him, shadows still swarmed, though I caught flashes of fox-fire, rune-light, and witch-charms as the others fought to hold the courtyard.

My father’s torch blazed, Twobble’s knife flashed, the students’ chants rose and fell.

But it was me he wanted.

“Come, Maeve,” Malore growled, his voice shaking the air. “Let me show you what true power looks like when blood binds to shadow.”

My body screamed in pain, but I pushed myself up, fingers trembling, and met his gaze.

“You’ll never bind me,” I whispered.

I pressed my palms flat against the cracked stone once more. Heat surged up my arms, deeper this time, brighter, wilder. Not just Hedge or flame. Not just mine.

The Flame Ward was awake.

My vision blurred, the world narrowing to the fire roaring through my veins. The ground beneath my boots glowed red-hot, cracks spreading outward like molten rivers. Malore’s eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, his stride slowed.

I drew in one burning breath, my chest alight, and knew, I wasn’t just channeling my own magic anymore.

I was carrying Stonewick’s fire.

And it was ready to burn.

The battle still raged around me, shadows clawing, shifters and witches crying out, lightning cracking through the storm. But all I could feel was the heat rising, the call of the Flame Ward burning inside me.

I clenched my fists, my body trembling, and braced myself for the next strike.

Because this wasn’t over.

Not yet.

The fire inside me roared.

Not Hedge fire, not the little sparks I’d coaxed from teapots and torches.

This was older, deeper. The Flame Ward, once a dwindling ember collecting memories, was awake and coursing through me like molten rivers.

Every heartbeat was a bellows, every breath a blast of heat.

My skin prickled as though it could split open to spill the fire beneath.

The ground around me glowed, cracks spidering outward in red-hot veins. Malore slowed, his towering shadowed form recoiling as smoke curled from the edges of his fur. His laugh faltered into a hiss.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice raw but steady. “You should fear this.”

And so should I.

The molten lava surged higher, licking the air in columns that wove into my vines, turning them into living whips of flame. I flung my arms wide, and the courtyard exploded in light. Shadows shrieked, burning away into smoke, and for the first time since he stepped through, Malore stumbled.

But the heat didn’t just burn him; it singed me, too.

Memories flared unbidden, hot as the flames surging through my veins.

Celeste’s first steps on the porch in Stonewick.

Keegan’s crooked smile when he first told me he trusted me.

Grandma Elira’s voice in the mirrors, steady even when she was trapped.

My father, in bulldog form, curling up at my feet when he thought I wouldn’t notice.

Every ember was a memory. Every blaze was a vow.

And if I wasn’t careful, the fire would eat them all.

Stay with me, I begged myself, my chest tight. Don’t let it take everything. Don’t let it take you.

Malore howled, his claws sweeping through the air, shadows clashing against my fire. Sparks flew in all directions, searing the courtyard. His shadow-form smoked where the flames licked, the fur curling and blackening, his outline flickering.

“You think fire makes you strong?” he snarled, his voice rattling the stones. “It is hunger. It consumes without thought. And it will consume you.”

“I won’t let it,” I forced out, even as the fire clawed deeper, tempting me to surrender. To give in to the blaze and let it burn everything, even myself.

His claws crashed against my wall of flame, the impact reverberating through my ribs. I held, teeth clenched, every inch of me screaming. And slowly, impossibly, he gave ground. His massive form hissed and smoked, his fur singeing, his eyes narrowing against the brightness.

I’m winning, I thought, my heart slamming. We can do this.

But I felt it, an opening in my defenses.

A weakness.

My eyes flicked for a heartbeat toward the Academy steps.

Keegan.

He was there, gripping the railing with one hand, his other arm wrapped around his stomach. His eyes blazed, but his face was pale, his body shaking from the curse and the magic he’d already poured out. Still, he stood, still he watched me, and the sight sent both strength and terror through me.

Malore saw it too.

His laugh came back, cruel and jagged. “So that is your anchor. That is the thread I must sever.”

“No!” I shouted, throwing up more fire, but he was already turning, already lunging.

The world slowed to a scream.

Keegan braced himself, too weak to dodge, too stubborn to fall back. The curse darkened his veins, but his fists sparked faintly blue as he raised them. He was ready to fight, but he couldn’t, not against this.

My heart slammed against my ribs, fire ripping out of me in a wave as I hurled it after Malore.

But it wouldn’t reach him in time.

And then…

Silver fur flashed.

A wolf leapt between them, her form luminous, her teeth bared, and eyes blazing. She struck Malore mid-lunge, her weight slamming into his shadowed chest. The courtyard rang with the impact as the storm split above us.

The Silver Wolf.

Keegan’s mother.

She snarled, her body glowing with moonlight as she tore into him, claws sinking deep where my fire had already singed. Malore roared, stumbling back under the combined assault. For the first time, he faltered more than a step, his stormlight dimming, his shadow form breaking apart.

A mother’s love.

Keegan stared, his face a storm of shock and grief and fury all at once.

He staggered, reaching for the railing, his voice hoarse. “Mom…”

But she didn’t look at him.

Not yet.

Her fangs sank deeper, her silver glow blazing bright against his smoke. My fire flared higher, feeding on her light, wrapping them both in a storm of flame and moonlight.

For a heartbeat, hope seared brighter than fear.

But the fire inside me didn’t calm down. It surged higher, hotter, demanding more, threatening to consume not just Malore but everything.

I swayed, the edges of my vision burning white, my body trembling as though I were the wick of a candle about to snap. The Flame Ward was awake, alive, furious.

And I didn’t know if I was its bearer or its sacrifice.

The battle still raged around us, shifters and witches clashing with shadows, my father’s torch blazing, Twobble’s blade flashing, students’ chants rising like a hymn.

But all I could feel was the heat rising, hotter and hotter, my veins molten, my heart a forge.

The Flame Ward was calling me.

And if I gave in, it would burn everything in its path.

I clenched my fists, every nerve screaming, and tried to hold.

Because if I couldn’t, if I fell into the fire, Stonewick would fall with me.

The courtyard was a storm of fire and shadow, silver and smoke.

The Silver Wolf tore into Malore with a ferocity that shook the air, her claws flashing like moonlight sharpened into blades.

Every strike sent cracks through his form, smoke hissing from the wounds.

He countered with claws of storm, slashing arcs of lightning that scorched the stones and split the night.

They collided again and again, the impact rattling through the earth beneath my boots.

I stood frozen, my breath coming in ragged bursts. The fire inside me surged higher, spilling out in sparks that singed the ground. I tried to pull it back, tried to quiet the roar in my veins, but the Flame Ward wasn’t listening. It wanted to burn, to consume.

Control it, I begged myself. Don’t let it control you. Don’t prove Malore right.

But every time Malore struck her, every time his claws raked across her silver fur, every time she staggered, I felt my chest ignite hotter. Rage and fear braided together, feeding the fire until it blurred the edges of my vision.

She snarled, teeth sinking into his arm, dragging him back from the Academy steps. His roar shook the courtyard, shadows flaring like wings.

I clenched my fists, shaking, fire flickering dangerously close to spilling out of me. My heart hammered so fast I thought it might burst.

I couldn’t lose her. I couldn’t lose Keegan.

The Flame Ward blazed, demanding release.

And I didn’t know if I could hold it back much longer.