Page 25 of Magical Moonbeam

This version was sharper than before

The cobblestones beneath my boots were slick with moisture. The air was thick, clinging to my skin like wet ash, and the lamplight didn’t glow. It flickered, struggling against a darkness thatmoved.

Buildings loomed like skeletal ruins, familiar in shape but wrong in feel. And the fog threaded through every gap, every window, swirling around my ankles to anchor me in place.

I knew instantly this wasn’tmydream.

I hadn’t called for him, but he was already here.

“You’re early,” came a voice behind me.

I turned.

Gideon stood at the end of an alley, framed in dim, fractured lamplight. His long coat shifted with the windless air. The shadows rose around him like adoring serpents. His dark hair gleamed silver in the flicker of light, but his eyes were the same… icy, sharp, and wrong. His gaze glittered with something that felt far too close to familiarity.

And danger.

“I didn’t summon you,” I said, my voice firm despite the tremble I tried to swallow.

He stepped forward, unhurried. “Of course not. I invited myself.”

I swallowed.

“Don’t look so cross,” he said, lips curling in a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

My stomach dropped, and he stopped a few feet away.

Gideon’s head tilted, with his gaze cool and calculating as he studied me.

“You’ve grown into your magic faster than I expected,” he said, voice smooth as glass. “And yet… you still wear your heart on your sleeve. Just like your father.”

I flinched before I could stop myself.

He noticed.

“Oh yes,” he said softly. “Frank, isn’t that what he likes to call himself? Such a loyal little bulldog now.”

“Leave him out of this,” I snapped.

He smiled again, but it was colder this time. “Everyone in your life is part of this. Every connection you make is a thread I can follow. You should be more careful.”

I stood my ground, fists clenched at my sides. “What do you want from me?”

His expression didn’t change. “You already know.”

“I don’t.”

“Youdo.”

His voice echoed around the alley like it had been spoken from every stone. I shook my head, but he took another step closer, and the fog pulled tighter around us.

“You’ve been dancing the Hedge,” he said. “Standing between the light and the dark. The seen and the unseen. You’re valuable, Maeve. More than you know. The Academy may not understand your true potential… but I do.”

My throat went dry.

“I think,” he continued, “you want to meet me again. In the flesh. You’re curious. You’ve always been curious.”

“No,” I said, though it didn’t come out nearly as loud as I intended. “I just want to understand you.”