Page 115 of Magical Mission
“Us.”
Keegan smiled, stepping closer. “That’s because I’ve got impeccable timing. And a sixth sense for when you’re pretending you’ve got it all under control.”
I rolled my eyes.. “Idohave it all under control.”
He leaned in, voice low and full of warmth. “Then why does your pulse always jump when I’m this close?”
I arched a brow, trying not to smile. “Because you’re invading my personal space, wolf man.”
He grinned. “Or maybe you like the way I fill it.”
“I’ll never tell.”
He chuckled and nodded. “I believe that.”
The bell above Luna’s door gave its soft, silvery chime down the street.
“Should we wander back?” I asked.
“Probably or we’ll get ourselves in trouble.”
I didn’t say anything, but I reveled in the thought.
We walked slowly toward the yarn shop, everything between us remaining unsaid.
Keegan and I stepped inside, trailing the last of the midlife students who had all but emptied the baskets near the front counter. Colorful skeins lay piled like small clouds in their arms. Moody storm-grays, blush-toned pinks, enchanted blues that sparkled when touched by sunlight promised beautiful creations by novice and experienced witches alike. The shop smelled of cedar, wool, and rose tea, and it brought me right back to my first time inside with Skye.
The moment I noticed a scarf trying to fold and put itself back on a shelf…
“I knew they’d love it,” I murmured.
Keegan gave a low chuckle.
Luna stood behind the counter, her hair pulled into a long braid draped over one shoulder. Her fingers moved deftly over a skein she was winding into a tidy ball, but her eyes lingered on the students as they began to head out, laughing, clutching bags and promises to return.
She smiled, but there was a wistfulness tucked beneath it, like a bookmark slipped deep into a well-loved page.
“They’re lovely,” she said, finally looking up at me. “Confident in all the ways I don’t think they realize. It’s a good thing the Academy is back.”
“It seems to be good for business, too,” I said, nodding toward the now half-empty display shelves.
Luna gave a quiet laugh. “You’re not wrong. Twenty sign-ups for yarn arts in the last two days. I’ve barely had time to restock.”
“Twenty?” I blinked. “That’s—Luna, that’s incredible!”
“It is,” she agreed softly, winding the yarn with mechanical ease. “I’ve added beginner and intermediate offerings. I think they want to weave something tangible while the rest of their magic’s still waking up.”
I was about to agree when Keegan wandered toward the front window to inspect an enchanted display of socks that danced in a slow, looping pattern. Luna’s eyes followed him for a moment, then she let out a long breath.
It wasn’t the tired kind of sigh. It was heavy.
When I turned back to Luna, her fingers had stilled on the yarn.
“Maeve,” she said quietly. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” I said, my voice dropping without thinking.
She glanced at Keegan again, then leaned forward slightly, like the words didn’t want to come out unless she made space for them.
