Page 85 of Magical Mischief

I couldn’t breathe for a second.

She wasnesting.

Preparing for something rare. Something extraordinary. Something not seen by human eyes.

And the Academy had broughtmehere to see it.

To witness the beauty.

A chill worked its way down my back, even in the warmth of the chamber.

This wasn’t just about the egg. Or the dragon. Or even the Academy’s quiet awakening.

It was aboutwhat comes next.

This was a signal. A promise. Maybe even a warning.

Everything I’d been doing, the rescues, the searching, the fights, and the fear, had been building to this.

Something was coming.

Something big enough that the dragons were preparing for it. That the Academy was waking up. That even the Wards, faded and flickering, had begun to stir again.

Maybe the Academy never closed because of the curse. Maybe it was to prepare for this moment. I didn’t know and wouldn’t know for a time to come.

But the one thing I understood was that I was witnessing something so special and bittersweet it almost paralyzed me.

I stepped forward, slowly, my heart thudding so loudly that I was certain the dragon could hear it. She didn’t flinch. Her gaze stayed steady.

“I’ll protect it,” I said, unsure where the words came from. “Whatever’s coming. Whatever this means for Stonewick. For the Academy. For all of us—I’ll protect it. I’ll protect you.” I looked at the baby dragon in the alcove and smiled. “And you.”

The mother dragon lowered her head again, this time closer. She exhaled, and the air shimmered with warmth and something like approval. I felt it ripple over my skin—an ancient magic, wild and soft all at once.

My hand trembled at my side, but I didn’t lift it. Not yet. Some things are earned slowly.

The key fluttered at the edge of my vision, circling again, as if taking in the whole room.

I realized, standing there, that no one had seen this place in decades. Maybe longer. The records, the rumors, they were scraps. Hints. The truth had been hidden, protected.Cradled,even.

And I had seen it.

Now I knew.

There was no running from that.

No pretending the danger had passed just because my father was home, or the cottage felt safe again. This—this—was the beginning of something else. The spark that would light the path forward or burn it to ash.

And I would not let Stonewick burn.

Not while I still stood.

The dragon closed her eyes, slowly.

At peace. The egg glowed faintly now, just a pulse—heartbeat-like, slow and certain.

I backed away, giving the nest its space. The key flitted ahead of me again, ready to lead me back.

But I turned once more, just before crossing the threshold.