Page 194 of Magical Moonbeam

He gave a weak smile. “Yeah. Figured.”

A storm swirled in my stomach. We had driven Gideon back. The curse had bent. But something had curled its claws deeper into Keegan while we were celebrating. Something I hadn’t seen.

And perhaps that was Gideon’s play all along.

A piece of him was left behind.

Not in magic. But inpain.

“We’re going to fix it,” I whispered fiercely.

He nodded slowly, eyes closing as if even that promise brought some relief.

“But Keegan,” I added, “You don’t get to carry it alone anymore...We do this together.”

His voice was hoarse when he said, “Okay.”

We stood there for a long time.

The hidden dragons still slept below. The secret was still safe deep inside me. There were moments I thought Gideon knew, but I kept those thoughts sealed, and I really think he was calling my bluff.

The students were still safe.

My father was human again.

But now, the next thread revealed itself with Keegan, bright and fragile.

Keegan was still cursed, possibly worse than before.

And I would burn every shadow in the world to free him.

I didn’t speak.

Not at first.

Keegan’s hand was still warm in mine, but something beneath his skin pulsed cold. A quiet hum of wrongness, like magic coiling where it shouldn’t. Not burning. Not flaring.

Justwaiting.

Nova’s words still rang in my ears.The curse hasn’t ended. It’s shifted. It’s rethreading.

Stella had gone quiet, her arms crossed, wand tucked under her elbow. Ardetia stood a few paces back, eyes narrowed, watching Keegan as if trying to see what might be coming next.

“Ember is disenchanting Celeste. She’s perfectly fine and will come out of hiding soon,” Nova informed me.

I could finally take a deep breath.

Keegan said nothing. He didn’t have to. The tension in his shoulders, the way his body leaned ever so slightly against the wall behind him, like he needed it to stay upright, told me everything.

I let go of his hand slowly, not in fear, but in care. Noticing the way his fingers curled in after, like he was holding something in.

“Is it changing you?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t flinch. “I don’t know.”

He met my eyes, and something in them made my heart twist. Not panic. Not despair.

Curiosity.