Page 8 of Magical Mayhem (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #7)

The first thing I felt was warmth.

Keegan’s arm curved heavily around my waist, his chest pressed against my back, the steady rhythm of his breath stirring the loose strands of my hair. For a blissful moment, I let myself sink into it, eyes still closed, the familiar safety of his embrace shielding me from everything else.

But then the light filtered through.

Or rather, what little of it there was.

I cracked one eye open to find the drapes glowing faintly with a pale gray, no brighter than a washed-out dawn.

The morning should have been filled with golden beams, with birds chirping, and with the cheerful hum of summer settling over Stonewick.

Instead, the sky outside the drapes swirled dark, clouds pressing so thick and low it looked more like October than July.

A sigh slipped from me before I could stop it. It didn’t feel like summer at all. The air was too heavy, the light too thin.

The gloom was so constant that I half expected to see pumpkins rolling down the sidewalks and Stella handing out spiced cider instead of iced tea. We might as well skip the sunshine season altogether and admit autumn had claimed us early.

But it was the shadows.

I shifted carefully in Keegan’s hold, not wanting to wake him, but his grip tightened instinctively, drawing me closer. His breath brushed my ear as he murmured something half-dreamed, and my heart tugged, soft and aching.

Still, the unease wouldn’t leave me.

My thoughts circled back, as they had all night, to the mushrooms. The way they glowed, the way the spores seemed to sink under my skin, twisting what I feared most into something so real I could feel it in my bones.

Nova hadn’t lied. I didn’t believe she could. Not about this. But no matter how carefully she explained the Sillipa, no matter how rational her voice had sounded, I couldn’t shake the truth in my chest.

It hadn’t just been spores.

The voice had been too real, too close, too heavy with something alive.

I pressed my forehead into Keegan’s shoulder, guilt washing through me. He had enough to carry without my doubts gnawing at me like this. He needed rest, healing, love—not me chasing phantoms in the woods.

And yet.

It was too quiet.

For weeks, Gideon had haunted our every step, his laughter curling like smoke through the Wards, his shadow tether pulling at the edges of the Academy. He was relentless, pressing always closer.

But since the Keeper tree, there had been nothing.

No mocking voice on the wind.

No shadows nipping at the Wards.

No communication through dreams.

No Gideon.

The silence pressed harder than his presence ever had.

I closed my eyes, remembering the last time I saw him at the Keeper tree.

He had looked worse than I’d ever seen him.

Gideon’s face had hollowed, his eyes sunk deep, his power fraying at the edges like cloth left too long in the weather.

For all his menace, for all his cruel delight in torment, he had looked… diminished as though the curse he fed on had begun to starve him, too.

But Gideon was never just what he seemed. He was cunning. A predator. And predators knew how to play weak until the moment of the strike.

The thought made my stomach twist.

Keegan stirred behind me, his lips brushing against my hair in a sleepy kiss. His voice was a low rumble, still husky from dreams. “You’re awake too early.”

I tried to smile as I turned slightly to look at him. His hazel eyes were half-lidded, darkness still clinging beneath them, but even so, he was heartbreakingly beautiful in the dim light.

“So are you,” I whispered.

He smirked faintly, pulling me tighter. “I wake up when you worry too loud. You think too hard in the mornings.”

I laughed softly, but my chest ached. “Sorry.”

His brow furrowed as he studied me. “What’s wrong?”

I hesitated, then shook my head. “It’s nothing. Just the weather. Just… everything.”

He brushed his thumb across my cheek, slow and tender. “You don’t lie well, Maeve.”

I leaned into his touch, letting the warmth steady me, though my thoughts still churned. How could I tell him I wasn’t sure the mushrooms were to blame for what I experienced in the Wilds?

That I thought the voice had been something else, someone else? That I feared Gideon’s silence more than his presence?

Instead, I pressed a kiss to his palm and whispered, “I’m just glad you’re here.”

His eyes softened, though the shadows didn’t leave. “Always.”

I clung to the word, even as my heart whispered back, but for how long?

The fire in the hearth had burned low, the last embers glowing faintly. The breakfast tray Stella had no doubt bullied the sprites into preparing would arrive soon, piled with more food than Keegan could eat in a week.

I curled closer into his embrace, trying to let his warmth block it out. For now, I would take this moment. Just this.

Because even as summer should have been blooming in Stonewick, something told me autumn had already arrived.

And with it, change.

And with that change, I couldn’t resist the call to the Wilds again.

The thought had been buzzing in my chest since dawn, refusing to let me rest. What if someone needed help? What if the mushrooms weren’t finished with me? And most of all, where had that mule come from? A bramble mule, of all things.

A mule?

I smoothed the blankets where Keegan and I had lain and turned to him, my heart tugging at the way the light caught in his hair. “Do you need anything else before I go check in with Nova?”

He surprised me by pushing himself upright and stretching, his back arching with a low groan that was far too distracting for someone who claimed to be cursed and exhausted. His muscles shifted beneath his loose shirt, and he rolled his shoulders with a grimace.

“I'd better get ready,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Class for me starts today. I should look somewhat presentable as a professor.”

I froze. “Class.”

He gave me a sideways look as he stood, towering over the bed with that quiet, stubborn pride etched into every line of his body.

“Of course,” I breathed, realization hitting me like a bucket of cold water. “Classes. They start today.”

He quirked a brow. “And you forgot? Didn’t the students arrive yesterday?”

Heat crept into my cheeks. “It’s been… a busy week. The Wilds. The curse. Your mother returning. Gideon being…” I cut myself off before his name could sour the air further. “And somehow it didn’t occur to me that we’d be welcoming students back into their routines this morning.”

Keegan’s smirk was quick, sharp, and entirely too confident. “That’s why they have schedules. So the rest of us don’t have to panic.”

I frowned, crossing my arms. “You don’t have to do this, Keegan. We can find someone else to fill in until you’re feeling stronger.”

His hazel eyes hardened, his jaw tightening as he reached for his boots. “No.”

I blinked. “No?”

He shot me a look that was all steel and wolf, his voice low and edged. “I’m not the kind of man who gives up and leaves others to pick up my slack. I’ve taught every class of mine since the Academy opened its doors again. I’m not about to stop now.”

I bit back my protest, watching as he tugged on his boots and pulled a fresh shirt over his head, the fabric clinging in ways that made my thoughts scatter. He looked worn, yes, shadows still lingering beneath his eyes, but there was strength there, too.

Strength I couldn’t argue with.

Still, I couldn’t let him have the last word. So I leaned against the bedpost, arms crossed, lips tugging into a grin. “Even if the duties you’re so fiercely defending are the ones your girlfriend signed you up for?”

His scowl deepened, but his lips twitched despite it. “Especially those. I can’t let you see me fail.”

“You could never fail.”

He smirked, fastening the cuffs of his shirt. “You certainly think highly of me.”

My cheeks warmed, but I tossed my hair back anyway. “Well, someone has to.”

That earned me a real laugh, deep and rough, the kind that made my heart flutter in my chest.

I watched him finish dressing, every movement efficient, determined. His scowl softened when he glanced at me again, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, our eyes locked in quiet understanding.

He was going to fight for his duties, for his place, even while shadows nipped at his heels. And I was going to let him because that was who he was.

But the pull in my chest didn’t ease.

The Wilds called, a low thrumming in my bones, insistent and unnerving.

“I’ll check in with Nova after I see the students,” I said carefully. “But first… there’s something I need to do.”

Keegan gave me a suspicious look. “Maeve.”

“I’ll be fine,” I promised, leaning in to brush my lips over his, quick and soft. “Eat. Teach. Brood. Whatever order you prefer. Just… let me handle this one thing.”

His eyes searched mine, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he cupped my cheek, thumb brushing along my jaw, and murmured, “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.”

And then I slipped from the room, leaving behind the warmth of the fire and the faint rumble of his voice telling me to take care.

The halls of the Academy hummed with morning energy.

Students darted past with satchels and scrolls, their laughter echoing against the stone walls.

I smiled faintly, nodding at a few who waved, but my feet carried me faster, quieter, toward the back of the building.

My heart thudded with each step, and the heavy oak doors groaned softly as I pushed them open, spilling me into the back courtyard.

The air outside was heavy with the strange gloom that clung over Stonewick, but it didn’t slow me.

Off to one side, Twobble sat cross-legged in the grass, a string of daisies perched crookedly around his head. He was petting the bramble mule as if it were the most ordinary creature in the world, murmuring something that made its leafy garland puff brighter. The mule looked smug.

When Twobble spotted me, he lifted a hand in a wave. I waved back, offering him a smile, but didn’t stop. If I paused, he’d pepper me with questions, and I didn’t have the heart, or the patience, to deflect him this time.

My steps quickened. Past the gardens, past the lavender swaying in its boxes, past the last cluster of rosemary and mint Stella had demanded for her tea shop. The path narrowed, cobblestones giving way to soft moss, and the trees of the Wilds rose tall ahead of me.

The moment I reached the edge, I knew.

The air shifted to its cooler, sharper blend laced with the scent of earth and green things. The gloom pressing over Stonewick seemed to lift just enough here, as though the Wilds themselves were exhaling to greet me. My birthmark tingled faintly, warm against my skin.

It wasn’t fear that gripped me, not this time. It was certainty.

This was why I’d come back.

Not just for the mule. Not for the mushrooms. Not even for the voice I couldn’t stop hearing in the back of my mind.

The Wilds were alive, shifting, calling. And whatever waited inside them, I couldn’t turn away.

I tightened my cloak around my shoulders and stepped forward, leaving the Academy’s safety behind.