Page 60 of Goody Magic Academy: Year Three

As I reached him, we collided in an embrace that was both awkward and desperate. His arms encircled me, strong yet gentle, as if afraid I might break or disappear. I breathed in his scent—a mixture of pine and cedar, unfamiliar, yet stirring something deep within me.

I tentatively wrapped my arms around him, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. His body trembled slightly against mine, and I realized with a start that he was crying.

“My child…my dear, sweet child,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. His lips pressed against the crown of my head in a tender, almost reverent kiss. The gesture, though brand new, felt somehow right.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me. His eyes, now clear and bright, studied my face with wonder, memorizing every detail. “I knew you would defeat her,” he said softly. “Even though I’ve never met you, I’ve always believed in you.”

We stood there, locked in our embrace, unwilling to let go just yet. It was a moment of new beginnings, a chance to forge the connection that had been denied us for so long. In my father’s arms, I felt a sense of completeness I hadn’t realized I was missing—and found a piece of myself that had finally clicked into place.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

My father and I reluctantly untangled ourselves from each other as someone cleared their throat.

Raphael approached the church and nodded with his chin. “There’s someone else who needs helping, but I can’t be the one to do it.” His gaze fell on my father. “Only you have the power to heal her.”

Mom? Oh god, she was still in there. Was she even alive?

My father and I held hands as we rushed into the church. Mom was no longer suspended in midair but still had the same look of agonized pain on her face, as if she couldn’t wake from a nightmare.

The cathedral was quiet—almost too quiet. I scanned the dark shadows for signs of the Bloodborne Brotherhood or Balthazar, but I couldn’t see any.

Jaxon’s warm presence enveloped me as he stepped up beside me, taking my other hand. The familiar touch sent a wave of comfort through me, yet it also sparked a fierce sense of protectiveness: almost instinctively I shifted, positioning myself slightly in front of him.

His breath tickled my ear as he leaned in closer. “I’m not going to break, Peyton,” he whispered, his voice both amused and gently reassuring.

“I just can’t lose you again,” I insisted, my voice thick with emotion.

“You won’t,” he said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I promise.”

My father’s gaze fell upon us, a flicker of understanding passing across his features as he let go of my hand. “Stay here,” he said softly, his tone gentle but firm. We watched as he slowly approached my mother’s still form.

The sight of her lying there motionless on the ground sent a chill through me. Her stillness was unnatural and unsettling.

My father knelt beside her, his movements careful and reverent. With infinite tenderness, he brushed a strand of blonde hair back from her face. “Celeste,” he murmured, her name a caress on his lips. “It’s been so long. I’ve missed you so much.”

The raw emotion in his voice made my chest tighten. As he bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, the air began to hum with anticipation.

“I love you with all my heart, Celeste,” he whispered against her skin. His next words were both a plea and a declaration of faith. “Please wake. I need you. We all do.”

The moment hung suspended, fragile as spun glass. I found myself holding my breath, my hand tightening around Jaxon’s as we waited to see if love truly would conquer all.

My mother’s eyes fluttered open, confusion and disbelief warring in her gaze. “Aiden? Is that really you?” Her voice was soft, as if she was afraid speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

My father gently lifted her into his arms, cradling her with a tenderness that spoke to their long separation. “Yes, it’s me,”he assured her, his voice almost cracking. “It’s finally over. Our daughter here defeated Abigail.” The pride in his words was immeasurable.

Mom’s gaze shifted, focusing on me for the first time. The recognition in her eyes sent a jolt through my entire being and I surged toward her, my hand still firmly clasped in Jaxon’s, pulling him along with me.

When I reached my parents I released Jaxon’s hand and threw my arms around my mother, careful not to disturb my father’s hold on her. Sobs wracked my body, all the years of longing and the recent trauma pouring out in a torrent of emotion. “Mom, Mom,” I cried, the words muffled against her shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know, darling,” she soothed, her hand coming up to stroke my hair. The gentle, maternal gesture had me releasing a fresh wave of tears. “I know,” she repeated, her voice a balm to my battered soul. “But it’s all over now. We’re a family again.”

I slowly extricated myself from my mother’s embrace, a mix of emotions swirling within me. “Mom, Dad,” I began, still getting used to the word “dad” on my tongue. “This is Jaxon. My mate.”

Jaxon stepped forward, his presence a steady comfort at my side. My father’s eyes flared slightly as he spoke. “Celeste, this vampire sacrificed himself to save our daughter. He was killed by a hellish blade, but the Archangel Michael brought him back to life.”

Mom’s gaze softened as she looked at Jaxon, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek. “You will never know how grateful I am for that,” she said, her voice warm. “Welcome to our family.”

---