Page 45 of Magical Mayhem (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #7)

The courtyard’s roar collapsed into one sound.

Malore’s bellow as his claws cut through the fire, through the silver wolf’s light, through my father’s torch, and drove straight toward Keegan.

I didn’t think.

I moved.

“NO!” The word ripped from me as I flung myself in front of him.

His claws met me head-on.

The impact was a storm made flesh. His strike slammed into my chest, heat and shadow tearing through me.

Pain flared so sharply I couldn’t even scream, my breath punched from my lungs as my body flew back.

The world spun in a blur of fire, silver, and stone before the ground rose up to crack against my back.

The shock drove everything out of me—the fire, the breath, the fight.

And then the images began.

Keegan’s smile, eyes softened in the candlelight of the cottage.

Celeste’s laugh, ribbons in her hair as she danced through the square.

My father’s hands, scarred but steady, teaching me to braid rope on the porch when I was a tiny girl.

My mother’s sharp voice, softened once in a rare moment, telling me I was stronger than I thought. The Academy’s halls, alive and glowing, opening their doors for me when I thought I had nothing left.

All of it flashed in shards, memories strobing like fireflies before my vision dimmed.

Somewhere, far away, I heard my father.

“Maeve!”

The cry was raw, broken, more beast than man. My chest clenched at the sound, even as my body refused to move.

And then the courtyard lit with a glow like none I had ever seen.

Time slowed.

The roar of shadows, the clash of claws, the song of the witches. All of it hushed into a long, low hum. The air shimmered, brighter and brighter, until it felt like the sun itself had broken through the storm.

I forced my head to turn, every muscle screaming.

And there—

Grandmother Elira.

She stepped down from the Academy steps, her form no longer fragile, no longer frail. The glow around her was ancient, older than any magic I had ever touched. Her body burned with light, not of flame but of Stonewick itself, the deep, living pulse of the land.

For the first time, she wasn’t the grandmother bound by mirrors or shadows. She wasn’t bound to the Academy. She wasn’t the ghost of the Academy. She was Stonewick incarnate…its protector, its heart, its fury.

And she took the step over the threshold, knowing what would happen next.

My breath caught. “Grandma…”

She didn’t look at me. Her eyes, bright as emerald fire, were locked on Malore.

On her husband.

On the man who had cursed Stonewick, who had divided us, who had tried to break me in the same strike that should have ended Keegan.

Her jaw tightened, her hands raised, and the ground itself seemed to bow beneath her.

“Elira,” Malore snarled, his voice cracking like thunder. His massive form wavered in the light, his claws shrinking back as though the glow itself burned him. “You dare—”

“I dare.” Her voice rang across the courtyard, steady as stone. “For my granddaughter. For my son. For Stonewick.”

She flung her arms wide, and the air split with ancient magic.

Roots tore through the ground, older than memory, thicker than tree trunks. They surged upward, glowing with green fire, wrapping around Malore’s limbs and dragging him back. The earth cracked, the stones splitting as the vines drove into his shadow-flesh, searing him.

Malore roared, his body writhing, shadows sputtering under her grip. He tried to strike her, his claws lashing, but her light blazed brighter, plaiting a shield that shattered his storm like glass.

I lay frozen, my body too broken to rise, but my heart hammered as I watched.

This wasn’t a ghost fighting.

This was Elira.

This was my grandmother.

This was the magic Stonewick had saved, bound, hidden away for this very moment.

And she knew…all the times I’d questioned her about her future, her wishes, her hopes.

She knew this moment would come.

The purest form of heroism.

The Silver Wolf surged to her side, her silver glow entwining with Elira’s green light, claws and fangs tearing into Malore as he bellowed. My father rushed forward too, torch blazing, his face streaked with grief and fury, his body moving with a strength I hadn’t seen in years.

Together, they fought.

Together, they held him.

And all I could do was watch as the world burned slow and bright around me, the fire in my veins dimmed but not gone, my chest heaving with pain and awe.

I should have felt terror.

But all I felt was the heat building again, not just from the Flame Ward, but from the sight of them, Elira, Frank, the Silver Wolf, standing against Malore, their light blazing like beacons in the storm.

Malore howled, his shadow-fur curling into smoke, his shadows cracking, his roar filled with both fury and fear.

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.

Not in triumph. But in shock. In surprise. In tearful joy that the shadows were gone, and sorrow so deep it nearly cracked the earth.

I lay stunned, my chest aching, the fire inside me dimming into embers. Keegan’s arms were around me before I even realized I was shaking. He pulled me upright, holding me against his chest, his hazel eyes fierce and wet with unshed tears.

“She’s gone,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “She told me, Keegan. She always told me that if she left the steps of the Academy, she would cease to exist. And yet…” My throat closed, a sob breaking through. “Yet she did it. To save me. To save my dad. You...”

And the dragons always knew…

Sacrifice.

His arms tightened around me, his voice rough in my ear. “She did it because she loved you. Because she loved all of us.”

I pressed my face into his shoulder, trembling, the stars above blurring with tears.

And then small arms wrapped around me, too.

Twobble.

He pressed his cheek against mine, his little hands surprisingly steady as he clung to me.

“Don’t cry too much, Maeve,” he mumbled, his own voice breaking. “She’d be mad if you ruined your linen with snot.”

I let out a broken laugh, clutching him tighter with one arm, Keegan with the other.

Across the courtyard, my dad staggered toward us, his torch long extinguished. My mother was with him, her arm steady around his shoulders, her face streaked with tears she didn’t bother to hide.

They stopped in front of me, their eyes on mine, and for once, there was no sharpness, no bickering, no walls. Only grief. Only pride.

“She saved us,” Dad said, his voice ragged.

“She saved us all,” Mom added softly, reaching out to press her hand to my hair.

I swallowed hard, words sticking in my throat.

“I kept asking her why she never wanted to take a more active part in the Academy once it opened. She would just smile and say her purpose was something else… when the time was right.”

I shook my head, my chest aching with every breath. “All this time, she carried that burden. She knew. She knew this was coming.”

My father’s hand settled on my shoulder, heavy and grounding. “Then she carried it so you wouldn’t have to.”

The words broke me open, tears spilling hot down my cheeks as Keegan’s arms pulled me closer. Twobble sniffled, my mother brushed her hand down my back, and for a moment, the five of us held together as though Elira’s light still wrapped around us.

The courtyard remained quiet, with only the sounds of the soft sobs of students, the whimpers of wounded shifters, and the faint flicker of magic settling after the storm. No one cheered. No one shouted.

But when I looked up again, the stars seemed brighter.

She was gone.

And yet, she was everywhere.

In the stone beneath our feet. In the Wards, humming faintly with life again. In the embers still glowing faintly in my veins.

Her sacrifice was written into Stonewick itself.

And though my heart cracked with grief, I knew it was her choice. Her moment. Her burden, finally set free.

I pressed my forehead against Keegan’s chest, whispering through tears.

“I’ll carry it now, Grandma. I’ll carry it for you.”

And above us, the stars burned steadily, silent witnesses to her final gift.