Page 191 of Magical Moonbeam

My dad gave them both an amused smile. “I did snore terribly.”

“You howled in your sleep,” Twobble corrected.

“That too.”

The corridor felt different now. Softer somehow. Not completely safe, not yet, but lit with something I hadn’t felt in days.

Hope.

Keegan stood just inside the threshold of the corridor, barely lit by the broken stained-glass window. The wolf had receded, but his presence still towered. Blood streaked his jaw. His knuckles were raw. And still, he looked steady. Alive. My eyes traced the curve of his ribs where the battle had bruised him, and I wanted nothing more than to run to him and fold myself into that solid strength. But someone else moved first.

My father stepped toward him.

Keegan stiffened, ever so slightly, unsure.

But then my dad extended a hand.

“You’ve been protecting her,” he said, voice steady and warm. “And not just her. Celeste. This town. My family. Me.”

Keegan looked down at the offered hand. “I did what anyone would’ve.”

My dad gave a dry chuckle. “Son, I’ve been a bulldog for years. I’ve seen what most people do when faced with fear and shadow. You didn’t run. You stayed. That matters. You’re not most people.”

Keegan took the hand, and for a moment their grips locked, not as a challenge, but as something older, like they both understood the weight of what had passed between them without needing to name it.

“Thank you,” my dad said again. “For keeping them whole while I couldn’t.”

Keegan nodded once, then, almost sheepishly, pulled him into a short hug. Brief. But honest.

And just like that, my breath came easier.

The ache in my chest softened as I watched them step apart. My heart steadied its pace. For the first time in days, I didn’t feel like I was bracing for the next blow.

I still didn’t know what was coming next. The curse hadn’t broken, not fully. I could feel its presence like an old bruise deep under the surface, still pulsing.

But something had shifted.

Keegan turned toward me, and my dad followed, both of them watching with expressions I didn’t deserve and couldn’t bear to lose.

And in that moment, I knew the tide had turned.

The curse was still alive.

But so were we.

And something new was stirring in its place.

Twobble sniffled again, then pretended to adjust his scarf. “Well, this is all lovely and mystical and weepy, but I’d like to point out that there’s still a very nasty man flinging dark clouds around and the Moonbeam won’t be back for a very long time.”

Chapter Forty-Five

The scent of scorched stone and rain-soaked magic hung thick in the corridor, curling beneath the soot and smoke like something ancient and bittersweet. I stood in the center of it all, boots coated in ash and blood, not mine, not anymore, breathing in the fading hum of battle.

And then I looked up.

Around me, the people who’d stood at the edge of the world and dared to lean forward.

My father stood with his shoulders back, a quiet steadiness radiating from him now that his curse had lifted. He looked older than I remembered, not just in body, but in soul. He was still warm, still steady, and stillhim.