Page 139 of Magical Moonbeam

And it wasn’t fear.

It wastruth.

The truth was that I was scared. Yes. But that fear didn’t own me. It didn’t steer me. I had walked into this nightmare for one reason—to end it. I needed to reclaim Stonewick and break the chain between our towns, our bloodlines, and whatever shadow magic he’d welded together with his charm and lies.

But now?

Now I was here to save my daughter.

That wasn’t negotiable.

“I’m not playing your game anymore,” I said, stepping away from him. “I’m not feeding your little experiment.”

“You think you have a choice?” he asked, genuinely amused.

I turned to face him fully now. “IknowI do.”

And then I let the air between us crackle, not with rage, not with threat, but withcertainty. With the quiet strength that came from knowing what had to be done, even when it scared you.Especiallywhen it scared you.

The light of the moon flared, as if it heard me.

Gideon’s expression shifted again. Not in fear. But in interest.

“You’re not who you were when you arrived,” he said. “That’s good. Because what comes next will ruin anyone who isn’t sure of themselves.”

“I am sure,” I whispered. “Of what I have to do.”

“Then do it.”

He faded into the mist like a puppet dropped by an impatient master, vanishing between breaths.

I turned back to the street.

Celeste and Darren were just ahead now, arms swinging lightly, and for the first time in hours, I felt clarity settle into my limbs like armor.

No matter what Gideon wanted… no matter what the Moonbeam revealed…

I would protect her.

Even if it meant revealing every secret I’d been too scared to name.

Even if it meant burning myself to the ground.

I ran.

Fog curled around my ankles like it wanted to trip me, pull me down, and bury me before I could get the words out. But I didn’t stop. My boots hit the broken cobblestones hard, each step a heartbeat louder than the last, thudding up through my chest as I charged across the street.

Gideon was gone.

Of course, he was. Vanished into shadow like he always did, leaving his threats in his wake like traps and whispers. But I didn’t care about him anymore. Not in this moment. Not whenmy daughter stood ten paces ahead of me, her arm looped through Darren’s, her head tilted slightly in concern.

“Celeste,” I called out, my voice loud, uneven. “Celeste, wait.”

She turned.

Everything about her stung, her face, her curls, the way she looked at me like I was teetering on the edge of madness.

And maybe I was.