Page 19 of Magical Mirage (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #6)

I’d barely turned the corner when I spotted Nova. I’d given Keegan enough time to go to the hotel, while I decided to head in the opposite direction in town. With the rumors of the Academy opening, new shop owners arrived to fill a few vacancies and a vibrant buzz filled the air.

Nova stood beneath the old copper awning outside a bookshop, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed at the sky as if it had personally offended her. A shawl the color of smoke was wrapped around her shoulders.

She looked like she was waiting for something.

Or someone.

When she saw me, her expression shifted to surprise, which was rare. She had a nasty habit of always expecting me before I even knew I would be arriving.

“Maeve,” she said, stepping out from under the awning, her shoes silent on the cobblestones. “What are you doing out? I thought you were still at the Academy.”

“I was,” I said, adjusting my coat and glancing back over my shoulder toward the hill. “I just… came down with Keegan.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“He wanted to check on the hotel,” I added quickly. “Said he needed his space.”

Nova’s face pinched as if I’d offered her a bite of something sour. “And you let him?”

I blinked. “He’s not a prisoner, Nova.”

“No,” she snapped, “but he is recovering from a near-fatal encounter with a cursed wolf the size of a barn, and the last time he shifted, he lost more strength than he could afford to give. Not to mention,” she pointed upward, “there’s a shadow coiling over the town again.”

I followed her gaze. “Thankfully, it just looked like a nasty storm in the making to outsiders.”

But the sky was darker than it had been just twenty minutes ago.

It reminded me of the sky right before a tornado touched down, when everything dropped into an eerie hush right before the rumble emerged.

But this wasn’t weather.

“I wish we could say it was a storm,” I murmured.

“But it’s not,” Nova said grimly.

We stood there in silence for a beat. The lanterns along the street guttered and flickered, their light dimmer than usual, as if the darkness overhead was siphoning magic from everything it touched.

“Nova,” I said softly, “how bad is it? Really?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she looked toward the direction of Keegan’s hotel, a line between her brows deepening.

“He doesn’t sleep through the night anymore,” she said finally. “When he was staying in his bedroom, I watched him wake every two or three hours. Sometimes in a sweat, sometimes shaking like something was pulling at his core.”

My chest tightened. “He never told me that.”

“He wouldn’t,” she said. “He doesn’t want you to worry.”

Too late for that.

She turned her gaze back to me, her voice low and steady. “Maeve, you know I care about him. He’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. But what’s happening inside him is not normal. It’s not just exhaustion. Something’s unraveling. Piece by piece. Like the curse is... learning him.”

“Learning?”

She nodded. “It’s adapting. Digging deeper. Finding new ways to anchor itself to him. Which means even when he rests, it’s not letting go.”

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “So, what do we do?”

Nova shook her head. “We keep trying. The Flame Ward’s still not at full strength, and the shadow in the sky is proof enough that the curse is reaching beyond Keegan now. It’s stretching.”

“Toward Stonewick?”

“Toward whatever it thinks will stop you.”

I stared at her.

“Me?”

Nova exhaled. “Maeve, you’ve activated parts of the Academy that haven’t breathed in decades. You’ve read scrolls meant to stay buried. You carry both Hedge and flame magic, and for better or worse, you’re at the center of every tether in this story.”

“How did you know about the scrolls?”

She didn’t answer.

My hands tightened at my sides. “And Keegan’s caught in it.”

“Yes,” she said. “And if he pulls away from the circle now, even for a night…”

She didn’t finish the thought, but I did.

“If he pulls away now, the curse might get its teeth in deeper.”

Nova gave a single nod.

I looked again toward the hotel. Its familiar silhouette sat solid and quiet on the edge of the fog, golden windows flickering like sleepy eyes.

It looked safe. Harmless.

But I knew better.

“Why didn’t he tell me how bad it was?” I asked.

“Because he loves you,” Nova said simply. “And because he’s afraid you’ll carry his burden with yours.”

“I already do.”

“I know,” she said, softer now. “And maybe that’s the only reason he’s still standing.”

A chill crept through my coat.

Above us, the shadow in the sky twisted, just slightly. A shape forming, too slow, too subtle, like a ripple through heavy ink. There was no face, no form, but there was presence.

“Nova,” I whispered. “It’s watching again.”

“I know.”

We stood together as the street fell quiet. Far behind us, the bell from the apothecary shop gave a soft chime as someone exited, but even that sound felt distant.

Stonewick was holding its breath.

“I need to go check on him,” I said.

Nova didn’t stop me. She just reached out and touched my arm lightly, grounding me.

“Be careful,” she said. “He’s stronger with you nearby. But you’re stronger when you remember who you are, not just who you love.”

Ouch.

I nodded, feeling like I needed some tea first.

The bells above Stella’s tea shop door chimed as I stepped inside, a sound I hadn’t realized I missed until it wrapped around me like a shawl.

The air was warm and fragrant, like blackberry leaves and orange peel, with maybe a trace of something spiced with cloves. The sharp edge of the world dulled just enough for me to exhale without my shoulders knotting up again.

I didn’t know what I expected to find. A quiet kettle on the stove, perhaps. Maybe even an empty shop, seeing as most of the village had tucked in early under the unnerving sky. But then again, this was Stella’s.

And Stella didn’t do normal.

I found her at the front window, perched on one of the velvet stools she refused to let anyone call antique. She had her chin in her hand and was staring out the window toward the hotel, a steaming mug in front of her that smelled suspiciously like elderflower and mischief.

“I know that look,” she said without turning around. “It’s the one you wear when you’ve run into Nova, and she’s said something serious enough to make your bones ache.”

I blinked. “That obvious?”

“Darling, you have the expression of a woman who’s been lectured by a seer and told the sky might fall. Again.”

I made my way toward the window, letting the soft golden light and shelves of gently glowing teapots settle around me. Stella had charmed half of them to stir themselves when the mood struck, and tonight they were sluggish, like even they were waiting for something.

“I needed a moment,” I admitted. “Just one space where someone doesn’t stare at me like I’m carrying the end of the magical world in my pocket.”

Stella reached behind her without looking and slid a second cup across the table toward me. It was already steaming.

Of course it was.

“This one’s got lemon balm, rose petals, and something from a fae market I’m not entirely sure I was allowed to bring through customs.”

I chuckled and took a sip.

Sweet, floral, grounding. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

Stella smiled with her scarlet-lined lips, finally looking at me.

Her hair was pulled up today with an amber pin shaped like a dagger.

Her lipstick was red as blood and somehow not smudged, even though I knew she’d already spent a day at the Academy, hunted shadows, ensured the safety of village folk, and flirted with three delivery men.

“You came here for tea,” she said, “but you’re staring out that window like it’ll tell you the future.”

I followed her gaze toward the hotel. The light in Keegan’s office was on.

“He wanted to be home,” I said quietly. “But the sky’s wrong again, Stella. And Nova’s worried. I’m worried. We haven’t broken the curse. Not really. And something’s still reaching for him.”

“Mm,” Stella said, sipping. “Dark clouds, brooding curses, and a man too stubborn to rest. Sounds like the plot of my third marriage.”

“Stella.”

“I’m only halfway kidding.” She grinned. “But I know what you mean.”

She turned a little on the stool, facing me with her full attention now. That was always the part that made people underestimate her. Stella’s humor was so big, her theatrics so constant, that most forgot she had an uncanny way of peeling through distractions and slicing straight to the heart.

“Let me ask you something,” she said. “When you look at Keegan now, after everything, after Moonbeam, Malore, and whatever else the universe has seen fit to throw at us, what do you see?”

I considered. Not quickly.

“Strength,” I said. “But fading. Like it’s costing him more to stay himself.”

She nodded. “Good. Now let me ask the harder question. What doesn’t he see in himself?”

That caught me.

I looked down into my tea.

“He doesn’t believe he’ll make it through this,” I said after a long silence. “He’s not saying it out loud, but I see it. Every time he falters, every time the curse drags at him, he pulls further away from everyone around him.”

“Except you.”

“I don’t know. I think… I think he’s afraid I’ll break, too.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous.” Stella sniffed. “You’re one of the most frustratingly resilient witches I’ve met. And that’s with your questionable taste in men. Besides, women are known for strength and resilience.”

I laughed. Quiet, but genuine.

Stella had a way of leaning back like she was about to recite some ancient prophecy, when really, it was just going to be the gospel according to Stella.

“Men,” she said, stirring her tea with the slow authority of someone who knew her words were going to sting a little. “Bless them, they’re like sourdough starter, good in theory, but if you don’t tend to them constantly, they collapse.”

I snorted into my own cup. “And women?”

Her eyes sparkled over the rim of her mug. “Midlife women, dear, are cast iron. We’ve been through every kind of fire, heartbreak, loss, and money woes, and instead of warping, we season ourselves. We can take the heat, and we only get better with use and a little oil.”

I laughed. “So, we’re frying pans and they’re baguettes?”

“Exactly,” she said, utterly serious. “And when the kitchen catches fire, the baguette burns and the frying pan makes something marvelous out of the crumbs.”

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. “You’re impossible.”

“And you,” she said, reaching over to tap my hand, “are stronger than you think. Men may have muscle, but we have endurance. And endurance always wins the war, dear.”

I let her words soak in as I thought about the man I’d fallen in love with.

“He’s terrified of becoming something dangerous,” I said. “Like his strength is the thing that will turn on all of us if he lets it loose.”

Stella tapped one crimson nail against her cup. “Then maybe that’s the problem.”

I looked up.

“What if the curse isn’t just draining his power?” she said slowly. “What if it’s feeding off the part of him that believes he has to hold everything back?”

I frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“Curses are clever,” she said. “Tricky. Slippery. They don’t just attack the body. They worm into thought, into habit. If Keegan’s spent his entire life resisting what he is, controlling it, muting it, bottling it, what if that’s what the curse is feeding on?”

The seed of the thought caught me off guard.

“You’re saying… it’s not attacking his power, it’s feeding on his resistance to it?”

She smiled again, but it wasn’t smug. It was sad. “Not all strength is muscle and fangs, Maeve. Some of it’s letting yourself be all of what you are. Especially the parts you think will scare people.”

I sat back, stunned at the simplicity of it.

Because it did make sense. Keegan had always carried himself like a wolf pacing the edge of the room, only half-tamed, constantly holding back. Maybe he thought it kept others safe. Maybe he thought it made him good .

But if Stella was right, and she usually was, maybe the thing that would save him wasn’t restraint.

It was acceptance.

“I don’t know how to help him see that,” I whispered.

“You don’t need to make him see it.” Stella sipped her tea and winked. “You just need to love him loud enough that he starts to believe it’s safe to be who he is.”

Outside, the shadow above the town curled tighter. But the light in the hotel window stayed steady.

And so, for the first time that day, did my heart.