Page 187 of Magical Moonbeam

And that’s when the change happened.

It wasn’t Keegan’s shape. It was the air.

The magic. The feeling in the bones of the Academy.

Something shifted. Deep and reverent. As if the land itself recognized what stood before it.

This was no ordinary shifter.

Keegan didn’t just shift.

He had ascended.

He stood taller now, even more massive, like the full truth of the wolf had finally been accepted.

A guardian. A force of the old world. His fur shimmered faintly with sigils—runes of the wilds etched into muscle and spirit. This wasn’t the Keegan I had met months ago.

This was the Keegan the land remembered.

He snarled, and the torches lining the hall flared, casting golden light against the cracked stone, setting shadows dancing like ghosts against the far wall.

Gideon backed up, his smirk faltering. “You think glowing will change anything?”

Keegan leapt again, faster than light.

They collided once more, and this time, Gideon didn’t get a hit in.

Keegan slammed into him, pinning him against a stone column that split under the pressure. Gideon choked as claws raked across his chest, and then Keegan’s massive head lowered, eyes glowing as he let out a guttural growl directly in Gideon’s face.

Gideon screamed and thrust both hands forward, unleashing a shockwave of black magic.

Keegan flew backward, skidding across the floor and crashing into a broken archway, but before the dust could even settle, he stood, unharmed, and let out a howl that shook the very foundation of the Academy.

It wasn’t rage.

It was claim.

“This isn’t yours,” the howl said.

This land, this magic, this fight, it didn’t belong to darkness.

And Gideon knew it.

He shouted something unintelligible, summoning spikes of shadow that shot from the floor and ceiling, trying to box Keegan in. But Keegan moved with impossible grace, dodging, weaving,smashing through the traps. His body was a blur of muscle, light, and raw instinct.

He circled Gideon again, faster now.

And Gideon was slower.

Tired.

Bleeding.

Unraveling.

I watched, my heart in my throat, as Keegan feinted left and then lunged right, biting into Gideon’s forearm and flinging him like a doll. Gideon rolled across the floor, gasping, coughing, magic flickering weakly from his fingertips.

Keegan approached slowly now, every pawstep a warning.