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“Fake it ‘til you make it.” Twobble elbowed me in the hip and waggled his brows. “Am I right?”

I laughed, the sound echoing brighter than I felt. “Is it that obvious that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“Only to those who know and love you.”

I raised a brow. “Did you just say the L word?”

“Don’t push your luck,” he grinned, all sharp teeth and mischief.

We stood in the Butterfly Ward, where the wind curled like a sleepy sigh and the blooms, those strange, unnamed flowers, twinkled like pink stars. A soft tingle whispered across my birthmark, not a warning this time, but something quieter… and curious, maybe?

“You’re stepping into this role wonderfully,” Twobble added, hopping off the stone wall and patting my arm. “Even for a human. No one sees your knees knocking under that cloak or your lips trembling when students ask you questions.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”

Twobble shrugged and flashed a grin at me. “The point is, you’re doing great. Now, I have a class to get to, or Bella might make me pretend I’m a fox and sniff the exterior of the Academy for my tardiness.”

“She wouldn’t…”

“She might. I’ve read about things like that, and I’m not going to fall victim.

Shifters have an odd sense of discipline.

Shoot. Shifters are odd period. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Keegan is no different.” Twobble’s little body spun around with the speed of a tornado, and he walked down the path, leaving the silence of my favorite place to reflect.

A gentle spring breeze rustled the glistening leaves, and a hint of dew sparkled on the hot pink flowers.

Everything about the Butterfly Ward seeped comfort into my body.

The butterflies shimmered in lazy arcs, like little guardians too polite to eavesdrop.

It was as close as I could get to the feeling of being with my daughter, while letting her soar. But there was no changing my reality.

The Wards needed to stay strong.

The dragons needed my loyalty.

The students needed guidance.

The curse needed to be ended.

And I planned on doing that all around Moonbeam.

Another brilliant idea from a brand-new witch who still couldn’t manage a simple food spell.

If I let my mind spiral, I’d panic. So instead, I barked orders and walked around with my head held high, playing the part like I belonged here. And in many ways, I did.

But confidence? That was a whole different spell I hadn’t mastered.

The last couple of weeks had felt like a whirlwind with too much magic, too little magic, too many questions, and not enough sleep. I hugged myself and leaned against the short stone wall, letting the hum of the Butterfly Ward trickle into my bones.

The Academy had opened, and students now filled the halls, laughter and learning spilled into the air like incense, and the Wards thrummed stronger with each new arrival. Stonewick felt safer and brighter.

Gideon was more determined than ever to get past our defenses.

He’d even sent two decoys, and I’d fallen for them both.

The worst part? The Academy hadn’t stopped him or them. Not really. Whether we wanted to admit it or not, we were exposed. The magic was stretching and growing, but it was also testing us.

And until we figured out exactly what was happening in Shadowick, we had to tighten our defenses and outsmart a man who always seemed three steps ahead.

The wind shifted, sweeping up from the trail behind me, and I didn’t even have to turn around.

“I knew I’d find you out here stewing,” Keegan said, his voice wrapped in warmth and something deeper.

I let out a breath and smiled despite myself. “Stewing? That’s a little dramatic.”

He came to lean beside me against the stone wall, and the quiet between us was as easy as breathing. His presence never demanded anything. He didn’t push or pull. He just was . Keegan was solid as the stone under my elbows and twice as dependable.

“I went looking for you,” he added. “You vanished after morning circle. Twobble was convinced you'd run off to get a magical buzzcut out of spite.”

I laughed, a short, surprised bark that drew a grin from him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He chuckled. “He mentioned he’d caught you arguing with your messy bun the other day.”

“Ridiculous. I do not argue with my hair.”

Keegan lifted his brows.

“Well, my hair does try to form a small rebellion on humid days,” I said. “But I’d like to believe I can handle my hairbrush better than my wand.”

Keegan didn’t answer right away. He just studied me in that way he did, as if he was trying to read the thoughts I hadn't voiced yet.

His hazel eyes were always so steady on mine, but there was a softness in them this morning, too. Or maybe that was the sunlight and the glow of the pink flowers throwing illusions into the air.

“You were stewing,” he murmured, finally.

“I prefer the term reflecting,” I said, straightening and brushing off my sleeves.

Keegan tilted his head. “You only use big words when you’re avoiding something.”

I sighed and didn’t deny it.

The wind was scented with rain’s promise and old magic.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said slowly, “about how I’ve been walking around with my chin high, barking orders like I know what I’m doing.”

Keegan chuckled, a low rumble that warmed me.

My brows lifted as I folded my arms and waited for a response.

“First of all, you don’t bark anything, and second of all, it looks convincing.” He winked at me, and my tummy tightened unexpectedly.

I shot him a sideways look. “That’s the problem. It’s all an act. Smoke and mirrors. Another brilliant performance by Maeve Bellemore, a witch, mother, and accidental headmistress.”

“You becoming headmistress was no accident.”

I shrugged.

His expression sobered. “Maeve…”

“No, it’s okay.” I waved a hand, though my fingers trembled just a little. “I’ve been feeling like I’m just… playing the part. You know? Like I’ve stepped onto a stage someone else built in shoes that don’t quite fit.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “So, stop playing.”

I blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“Stop playing the part,” he said, voice low but sure.

“Be you . The woman who gave up her old life for magic. The woman who faced down Malore. Who taught Twobble what family actually looks like? The gal who got her father back from Gideon’s clutches.

You know, the one who’s kept this whole place together when everything around us has been splintering. ”

My breath caught as his words hit me like a sledgehammer. It had been years since someone believed in me like this, and everywhere I went in Stonewick, I felt it.

Keegan reached out, brushing a bit of dark hair from my cheek. His knuckles grazed my skin. The motion was simple and tender. It was so unlike the gruff actions and even rougher exterior he liked to stalk around with that it made me wonder… But then I blocked the unfinished thought from my mind.

“The students don’t need someone perfect,” he said. “They need someone real. And you , with all your worry and wild ideas and exploding brownies, you’re exactly what they need.”

I swallowed, suddenly unsure where to put my hands or how to breathe.

He stepped back, giving me space. But the warmth he left behind lingered like a half-cast spell.

“I think you’re doing a great job,” he said softly.

Something hot and fierce bloomed behind my ribs at his words.

My throat tightened with gratitude, and I chuckled, pretending to punch his arm. “You’re not just saying that because I left a positive review at your inn?”

He laughed, and the silence that followed wasn’t heavy. It hummed with comfort and possibility.

“But I am worried,” Keegan added, voice tightening. “About Shadowick.”

I turned back to the garden, the Ward, the stillness of magic around us, and let out a sigh.

“I thought you might be.”

“You were nearly lost the last time you reached through,” he said. “The spell you cast, it wasn’t just tracking, Maeve. It was crossing Veils. And the deeper you go, the harder it’ll be to come back. I understand Moonbeam is coming up, but…”

I nodded. “I know.”

“Then why risk it?” His voice cracked slightly at the edges, and he stepped closer again. “Why now?”

I turned to face him fully, letting the truth rise like a tide in my chest.

“Because I feel it,” I whispered. “The Moonbeam. It’s coming. The alignment’s rare… only once every decade, if that, and I think it’s key to breaking the curse. It’s a pull I can’t ignore. You deserve this. My dad deserves this.”

Keegan frowned and sighed. “That’s a theory.”

“It’s more than that.” I touched my chest. “It’s in my bones. In my blood. Something’s waking up in the Wards, and Shadowick knows it, too. We’re racing toward something. I don’t know what, but I know this next Moonbeam is the moment we need.”

He studied me for a long moment. “Do you know what will happen if you’re wrong?”

“I do,” I said. “But I also know what’ll happen if we keep waiting. If we sit and hope Gideon doesn't act. It’s not a coincidence that I’m a Hedge witch.”

Keegan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re infuriating when you’re determined.”

I smirked. “You’ve said that before.”

“Because it keeps being true.”

He turned away briefly, pacing the small path of crushed quartz near the flower bed, then turned back.

“If you go,” he said, “I’m going with you.”

I blinked. “Keegan—”

“No arguments. If you’re heading into danger, you’re not going alone. Not again.”

The butterflies above us pulsed gently, as if the Ward itself approved.

My heart twisted. “You could get hurt.”

“I’ve been hurt before,” he said. “But I’d rather be hurt with you than left behind wondering.”

My breath hitched.

“I’ll need a team,” I said after a moment.

“A group who can stand the tethering magic and the pull of Shadowick. Nova’s still researching the effects of moonlight on weakening portions of Shadowick’s Wards.

Plus, I think it’ll help stabilize the gateway if we can use as many earthbound resources as possible. ”