Page 23 of Magical Mischief

My eyes scanned for the fortress behind where I sensed my dad earlier.

“You won’t be able to run to him, Maeve. I wouldn’t allow it.” He stepped closer. “Now, imagine if you had your ex on all fours begging for forgiveness.”

“That does nothing for me.”

“Interesting, but I don’t believe you’re being honest with yourself.”

A pang of doubt snaked through me. I’d never wish ill on someone, even someone who hurt me the way my ex did.

“Second thoughts?” Gideon pressed.

A subtle thread of guilt whispered that maybe I was in over my head. But the memory of my dad forced the doubt away.

“I’m not going to let you twist my mind.” But this might be my only opportunity to lure him to Stonewick.

Ready or not.

“Very well.” He feigned disappointment. “Then why come here?”

“Because I’m desperate.”

The weight of those words landed with a finality that stung my pride.

I shifted my weight and brought my gaze to his. “I need to know if you’ll ever let him go.”

Gideon’s eyes narrowed and flickered with amusement.

“The better question, dear Maeve, is whether he truly wants to leave. After all, the lure of Shadowick can be… irresistible.”

I flinched internally. “Don’t pretend he’s here by choice. Don’t you dare.”

He smirked.

“Your father’s an interesting one. Loyal to the end. But everyone has limits. Even him. Even you.” He waved a hand.

The fog parted and revealed the silhouette of a tower in the distance. My heart seized at the sight.

“That’s where…?” I asked, my breath catching.

“He’s there,” Gideon confirmed casually, “safe for now, unless you do something rash.” His gaze turned knowing, or mocking. “But I’m rather pleased you decided to return without sorcery or conjuring spirits. It suggests you might be ready to…listen.”

“Listen to what?” I demanded, forcing an edge of defiance into my tone. “That Stonewick is doomed without you? That my father is better off in your village?”

Another muffled laugh from him, like velvet over steel. “It suggests you might be ready to learn. I do like my apprentices to start with a proper, personal approach.”

I tried to keep my composure, but fear and anger warred in my chest.

Apprentice.

“I’m not your apprentice.” The word tasted foul.

Gideon smiled, a small, languid curve of his lips as he gestured around the street. His gaze snapped back to mine, and I couldn’t escape the confidence beckoning me.

“You’ve come here, to me, on your terms. This suggests curiosity, if not willingness. The Academy might teach you how to command Wards and delve into spells, but I can teach you how to shape magic for your father’s sake, Stonewick’s sake, and your ambition.”

I saw the hunger in Gideon’s eyes. He wanted something more from me than just compliance. The idea of handing him a single shred of control made my skin crawl.

“Tell me, Gideon,” I said softly. “What is it you really want from me? From Stonewick? From all of this? From taking my father? The curse?”