Page 148 of Magical Mission

The doors shut behind us with a quietclick,muffled under the hush of the hour. The air was cooler inside, tinged with the scent of old books and warmth from distant hearths. We stepped softly, instinctively, as if waking the place too soon would be a mistake.

Twobble was the first to break the silence.

“Well,” he said, yawning wide enough to nearly unhinge his jaw, “that was a very long detour for one cup of tea, a ghost sighting, and emotional growth I didn’t ask for.”

I smiled softly. “Thank you for coming.”

He waved a hand. “I went for the biscuit.”

Keegan chuckled beside me. “And yet somehow, you managed to eavesdrop through most of it.”

Twobble turned, already ambling down the hall. “It’s a skill. One of many. I’m off to bed before something else magical decides to show up uninvited and mess with my mood. If the path tries to talk to me, I’m shoving a sock in it.”

“Goodnight, Twobble,” I said, watching him disappear around the corner with a trail of muttered complaints.

And then it was just me and Keegan.

The silence between us was warmer than it had been before. It was laced with something heavier than exhaustion and far more dangerous than comfort.

It was hard not to think back to the moment his eyes fell to my lips and how I hoped for a kiss.

We walked slowly down the corridor as the moonlight spilled through the tall windows in streaks of silver, and the whole place felt like it was holding its breath.

“Back here again,” he said quietly. “Where it all began.”

I glanced sideways. “Still sure you want to walk into the magical mystery portal with me in the morning?”

He gave a low, almost amused hum. “Well, it’s either that or help Nova sort the armory. This sounds slightly less dangerous.”

“I make no promises.”

“You never do.”

We reached the turn toward my quarters, and I stopped just before the door.

Keegan leaned against the doorframe like he’d always belonged there. Arms crossed, expression unreadable, with a smirk just barely tugging at the corner of his mouth.

And stars help me, he looked good doing it.

He looked so good.

There was something about the way his broad shoulders filled the space. The casual strength of him just called to me. The fact that I could still feel the heat from our shared walk, could still smell the faint scent of cedar and leather on his coat, told me I wasn’t falling for him. I already had.

My stomach fluttered.

“You leaning there for dramatic effect?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

“Maybe,” he said. “Is it working?”

Dangerously.

I turned the knob, the door creaking open with a familiar sigh.

The fireplace, unlit, stirred awake with a few flickers of light, as if the Academy had expected me back just in time for reflection.

I turned back to him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”