Page 133 of Magical Moonbeam

“I told you, there’s only one way to break the curse.”

I glared at him. “And dragging her here helps youhow?”

He stepped forward, close enough that I could see the flicker of something tired behind his arrogance. “It gives you something to lose. Something you’ll fight harder for. Something tochoose.”

I wanted to scream. To claw the world open and hurl him into it. But Celeste was beside me now, clutching my hand, confused and afraid.

“I’m not playing your game,” I said through my teeth.

“You already are,” he said softly. “But don’t worry. You’ll win or lose very soon.”

And then the shadows pressed closer, and my daughter—my beautiful, brave girl—tightened her grip on my hand.

“Mom,” she whispered, “I’m scared.”

So was I.

Chapter Thirty-Three

My head was spinning.

Not metaphorically, not poetically, truly spinning. It was as if someone had opened my skull and poured chaos inside. I could barely control my breath, let alone a single coherent thought, and every thread of magic I’d tried to weave earlier that day now felt like soggy parchment crumbling in my hands.

I hated being this new at Hedge Magic. Hated the way my power still stuttered and surged unpredictably. I could whisper to mirrors and track feelings through soil, sure, but when it came to the gritty, spine-stiffened spellwork I needed right now?

I was a puddle.

A panicked, utterly human puddle.

Gideon’s eyes never left mine.

He saw all of it. The shaking in my knees. The tremor in my jaw I couldn’t clench away. The way my fingers twitched against my thigh, itching to castsomething,anything, but knowing it wouldn’t be enough. He saw the cracks.

And he smiled.

Then, with a snap of his fingers, the fog around us surged inside. It bloomed like a living thing, creeping, curling, pressing in against my ribs. The shadow dancers stilled, as if waiting. The whole village stilled.

Gideon lifted his chin slightly toward Darren.

“Take her across the street for coffee.”

The words didn’t register at first. My brain refused to make sense of them.

Coffee?

Darren turned toward Celeste with a soft nudge, like they were headed for brunch. Like this was any normal morning on campus, not the shattered edge of a cursed world.

“No,” I snapped, stepping forward.

Gideon’s hand lifted.

I froze.

“Stay back,” he said—soft, like a lullaby laced with iron. “You’ll only scare her more.”

“She’smy daughter,” I growled.

“And she will stay that way,” he replied, almost kindly. “If you let her walk for five minutes with the boy she trusts.”