Page 28

The little bistro on the corner of Plum and Fairy had only three tables, a menu written in silver ink on floating parchment, and candles that burned without wax or flame. It was merely light and warmth hovering like captured fireflies in glass bowls.

Keegan picked the table near the window, away from the other patrons, and pulled my chair out like a gentleman from another century.

I raised a brow. “Very gentlemanly of you.”

“I do my best,” he said, grinning as he took the seat across from me. “You know, just in case this is a date.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You’re just putting that out there?”

He smirked. “Well, I’ve been told I should be more direct.”

“Oh?” I picked up my menu. “By whom?”

“You, mostly.”

I laughed as the server filled our wine glasses and then left, giving us time to decide.

Keegan raised his glass. “To stolen evenings.”

I clinked mine gently against his. “And borrowed peace.”

The wine was warm and slightly spicy, laced with a floral note I couldn’t quite place. I leaned into it, into the candlelight, the company, and the moment.

It was easy with Keegan.

“I’m leaning toward the roasted root pie,” I said.

Keegan tilted his head. “That’s a very grounded heroine with secrets .”

“And if I get the caramel apple tart?” I asked.

“That would be considered a charming witch trying to distract someone from their brooding .”

My brows lifted. “Accurate.”

He smirked. “And if I get the buttered leek stew?”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s grumpy man with a soft center .”

“Careful, Maeve,” he said. “You’re getting good at reading me.”

“I’m just starting to,” I murmured. “But honestly, I want the spicy chicken wrap.”

He pushed the menu away. “And sirloin for me.”

The server came over and took our orders, and I glanced outside as something tugged at my thoughts.

“I haven’t talked to Celeste in over a week,” I said, quieter now.

“She texted me from campus. It was a simple one about a ruined batch of brownies in her dorm kitchen and a final in her lit class she’s dreading.

I texted her a quick response, but I keep meaning to call her back to hear her voice. I just…”

Keegan said nothing. He just listened and kept his gaze on mine.

“I’ve barely replied to Skye’s messages,” I continued, trying not to grimace. “She’s pregnant and cranky and probably throwing imaginary hexes at her husband for breathing too loudly. She asked if I was alive and included three skull emojis, which is her way of being sweet.”

Keegan’s mouth twitched. “Always the charming one.”

“She is. But also terrifying. You know, when she wanted me to come here, I had doubts. My mom and ex were always so against this place for their own reasons. Obviously, I now know my mom’s history.

No clue about Alex’s issue with Stonewick, other than he thought it was just the idea of it being a tourist town.

” I shrugged. “Anyway, I owe Skye so much, and she doesn’t even know it. ”

Keegan nodded. “It’s not easy to merge the magical and non-magical worlds, but you’re doing your best.”

I sighed. “It’s so weird that my daughter and best friend know nothing of my new life. Not about the Academy. Not about the Wards. Not even about me —not really. They just think I spend my days drinking and selling tea.”

The server delivered our meal, and we thanked her.

“Technically not far off,” Keegan teased.

“What?”

“You know about what you said about drinking and selling tea all day.”

I chuckled and gave him a look. “What’s awful is that if I tried to tell them, they wouldn’t believe it. Or worse, they’d think I’d lost my marbles.”

A few seconds of silence sat between us.

“Do you ever want to go back?”

The question hit harder than I expected, so I ate a few bites of my wrap.

“No, but I miss them. And I hate that I can’t explain why I’ve pulled away without unraveling their sense of reality in the process.”

Keegan reached across the table and lightly touched my hand. “You’re protecting them in the way only someone who loves deeply would.”

I looked down at our hands, then back at him. “You make it sound noble.”

“It is. Hard things often are.” He took his hands away and ate more of his meal.

I smiled, touched, then narrowed my eyes. “You always know the right thing to say. It’s very suspicious.”

He leaned in slightly, voice lower. “It’s a skill. Like carpentry. Or kissing.”

My stomach did a little flip. “Is that an offer?”

“More of a preview.” His eyes steadied on mine, and I laughed in a way that cracked something open in me.

The world outside the window slowed. The town lights flickered, the shops bustled, the students wandered the sidewalks, and for a moment, I let myself feel safe.

“You keep surprising me,” I said, taking another bite of my wrap.

Keegan’s brow lifted. “How so?”

“I thought you were just the gruff, growling type. All frowns and foot-dragging and accidental charm.”

“And now?” He took the last bite of his steak.

“Now I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”

He laughed as the check floated over. “Tonight was nice.”

I smiled, nodding. “It was. I kind of wish it wasn’t over.”

Keegan left money on the table and looked at me. “Walk back with me?”

“Do I have a choice?” I teased.

“Not really. I’m excellent company.”

I stood, taking his offered arm. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Maeve,” he said as we stepped onto the cozy Stonewick sidewalk, “I think we both know cocky is just confidence with better lighting.”

And under the soft glow of early stars, I let myself smile like someone who finally remembered what joy felt like.

“Is this your go-to move?” I asked.

He grinned. “Only when it works.”

The moonlight caught the gold in his eyes as he glanced at me.

Casual. Confident. Capable.

Fully Keegan in every way that I loved.

The night air was cool but soft. The seasons hadn’t made up their minds yet. It was like a tug-of-war between chilliness and warmth.

We walked slowly, our steps in rhythm as the cobblestone streets of Stonewick stretched quiet and half-lit before us. Shop windows had finally dimmed.

The sweet scent of lavender drifted from the candle shop down the block that was still open and offering tutorials for students.

Somewhere in the distance, wind chimes clinked gently.

I let myself breathe for a few paces, letting the warmth of our conversations linger, but it didn’t last long. The shimmer in the Academy. The box. The orb. And—

Gideon.

It coiled again in my chest, uncomfortable and persistent.

I stopped walking as the anxiety came from nowhere and shot through me like a lightning bolt.

Keegan slowed with me and looked down, concerned. “What is it?”

“I need to ask you something,” I said, still facing the shadowed road ahead. “And I want you to really hear it before you… judge it.”

His brow furrowed, but he nodded.

“I keep thinking about Gideon,” I said.

Keegan was quiet, but that silence tightened.

“I know he’s dangerous. I know what he’s done.

The curse, the manipulations, and the shadows.

And all of the pain he’s caused in Stonewick.

You and my dad… But—” I paused, pressing my lips together.

“There was this moment, when Gideon and I had connected here on these very streets, when we were rescuing my dad. I connected with Gideon’s mind and crept into a place he didn’t want me to, and I saw things…

From when he was young. And the look on his face.

” I shook my head. “Keegan, it was like watching someone trying to reach for something they loved and couldn't. He was standing on the outskirts of Stonewick being ridiculed.”

“You feel for him,” Keegan said quietly.

“No!” I said quickly, turning to face him. “I don’t feel for him. It’s not sympathy, not like that.”

He just looked at me.

Which was worse than arguing.

“You think I have a soft spot for him,” I said, a little defensively.

“You’re not the first woman to try to understand the man holding the knife,” Keegan said softly. “You always want to believe there’s something else behind the hurt. You did that with your ex, too.”

My chest tightened, but not from anger.

From recognition.

Keegan knew me better than I knew myself.

“That’s not fair,” I said, though my voice was gentler than I expected.

“It’s not an accusation,” he said. “It’s a worry.”

I blinked up at him, with my heart suddenly far more exposed than I’d prepared for.

But that’s what Keegan did. He always saw right through me and helped me discover things I didn’t even understand.

Keegan started walking, just a few steps, then turned back to me. His eyes weren’t angry, only concerned. Watching me with the kind of focus that felt like being unraveled.

“How do you know so much?” I asked. “About me. About how I think.”

A grin tugged at the edge of his mouth, low and crooked. “It’s the canine in me.”

I blinked.

He shrugged, voice casual. “Man’s best friend and all that. We’re loyal. We watch. We listen. I’ve been watching you for years.”

And knowing that gave me comfort.

“So, you’re blaming this on your shifter instincts?”

“Partially. Also, you’re not that hard to read.”

“I am incredibly mysterious,” I said.

“You are painfully earnest.”

I shoved him lightly, and he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Not this time.

I worried him with my observations about Gideon.

We walked again, slower now. The quiet between us had thickened, but it wasn’t with tension exactly, but with the weight of unspoken worries. He thought Gideon had manipulated me, and I wasn’t able to decipher it.

I glanced at him.

His jaw was tight with that look again that screamed protective, but also slightly guarded.

And that’s when it hit me.

He wasn’t upset about Gideon.

He was worried about me.

“You think I’m being pulled in,” I said.

He didn’t answer right away.

Then, with a careful breath, he said, “I think you see the cracks in people, and instead of stepping back, you reach into them.”

“I don’t want to fix him,” I said quickly. “I can’t fix him.”

“But you want to know why,” Keegan said. “And that’s dangerous, Maeve. Because sometimes when you stare into the wound too long, it becomes part of you.”

The silence returned as quiet as snowfall.

We reached the edge of the building, where the path forked toward the Flame Ward or back to the Butterfly Ward alley. The streetlamps flickered above us, casting warm gold halos around the curling branches overhead.

“I’m not na?ve,” I said.

“I know.”

“And I don’t trust him.”

“I know that, too.”

“But you’re still worried,” I added, softer now.

He didn’t deny it.

Instead, he looked at me like he was memorizing something. “I just don’t want to watch you break open because you’re trying to understand someone who thrives in the dark.”

That hit harder than anything else he could’ve said.

Because that was the truth of it.

I wanted answers. I wanted context for the pain. But I couldn’t want redemption for someone who never asked for it.

Keegan must’ve seen the realization in my face, because his shoulders eased.

We stood there in the lamplight, close but not touching.

“I’m glad you told me,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“I wasn’t sure I should.”

“You should.” He took a slow step closer. “Always.”

I nodded, but the little knot of unease stayed coiled in my chest.

Because while Keegan said the right things, always, something in his eyes told me he was still watching. Still wondering if my need for understanding would pull me too close to something dangerous.

And maybe…

Maybe I was wondering the same.

Keegan didn’t move at first. He just stood there, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him, see the flicker of firelight caught in the darker gold of his eyes. My breath stilled as his gaze dropped—first to my lips, then back up again, slower this time. Measured.

I didn’t step back.

I didn’t want to.

The air between us shifted, warm and humming, thick with something that hadn’t been spoken but had been building for weeks.

His hand lifted, barely, and brushed a strand of hair from my cheek, while his fingertips lingered just a breath too long.

My whole body tightened in response to just his…presence.

I felt flushed, fluttery, and suddenly aware of every point where we almost touched.

His mouth parted like he was going to say something, or maybe he wasn’t.

Maybe he was just going to kiss me.

I wanted him to.

And then—

A sharp, echoing clang rang out from somewhere near the town square, too loud and sudden to ignore.

We both jolted, stepping apart like we’d been caught stealing time.

Keegan’s eyes stayed on mine for one lingering heartbeat more.

Then he muttered, “Of course.”

And the spell between us shattered like ice on a Wisconsin lake.