Page 137 of Magical Moonbeam

His eyes gleamed. “You’re finally catching on.”

I shook my head. “No. No, I won’t play that game. You don’t get to turn me into fuel.”

“Oh, Maeve,” he said softly. “You already are. But the question is, what will you burn with it?”

That was his trick. That was his core. He didn’t just curse cities or twist magic. Helit fires. And then he let people burn themselves to ash, thinking they had a choice.

I took a step back. Just one. But it felt like miles.

“I’m not like you,” I said.

“No,” he agreed. “But you could be.”

“I wouldnever—”

He raised a finger. “Don’t saynever, Maeve. The Moonbeam hasn’t finished with you yet.”

I clenched my jaw, heart thudding like a drum.

Inside the café, Celeste rose from her chair. My heart seized. Darren stood beside her, casual as anything. And as they moved toward the door, Gideon smiled like he’d just written the final scene of a very long play.

“What do you want?” I whispered again. “What do you really want?”

He looked me dead in the eye.

“You.” Gideon closed his eyes for a brief second. “Always you.”

And then the door behind me creaked open.

And I saw my daughter stepping out of the café with a smile still playing on her lips, and the shadow dancers looming, completely unaware that she had just walked through the mouth of a trap.

And I didn’t know how to stop it.

Chapter Thirty-Four

I didn’t like the way Gideon saidMoonbeam.

Like it belonged to him.

Like it was a spell he’d twisted to fit his mouth and mold to his needs.

The way he said it made the moon sound like it was on a leash.

The word still echoed in my head as Celeste stepped down from the café stoop, oblivious to the threat wrapped around her like fog. Gideon’s posture didn’t shift. He stood just behind me, hands loosely clasped behind his back like a curator watching his exhibit perform exactly as intended.

They were walking toward us slowly.

“You’re not its master,” I said, the words too low for my daughter to hear.

Gideon tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “I didn’t say I was.”

“You act like it.”

“I respect power,” he said simply. “And the Moonbeam has more of it than most people realize.”

I glanced up.

The moon was watching. I could feel it—no,seeit. Its light didn’t feel like a gift or a curse. It felt like a test.