Page 179 of Magical Moonbeam
The Academy exhaled.
Not gently, but in a sharp, shuddering breath that cracked stone and splintered silence. The magic around us surged, not in victory but in sheer resistance, as though the old spells holding everything together were pushing against a tide they could no longer withstand.
And for a single suspended second, the air trembled with possibility.
I stood, or maybe I was lifted. My legs had no strength left, but the Hedge held me. The roots that had buried themselves deep beneath the Academy reached up, not to catch me, but to carry me. I was breathless, weightless, flooded with power that wasn’t mine alone. It wasours.The Academy. The land. The light. Every spell I’d cast was a spark fanned into a flame.
Somewhere behind me, I heard Nova shouting, her voice thick with spellwork. Ardetia was weaving a shield, the kind that glittered faintly with fae truth and sacrifice. Stella, hissing like a kettle on the edge of boiling, was anchoring the hallway against whatever came next. Keegan moved like a storm through shadow, his blade drawn, eyes locked on the sigils that had begun to burn through the walls.
But I could feel it before anyone else said a word.
He was here.
Not the whisper of Gideon.
Not the shadow.
Him.
Solid. Present.
Breaching the edges of what should have kept him out.
Because the curse hadn’t broken.
And the Moonbeam was nearly gone as that last feather of light blinked out in the rafters. The doorway across the hall, one that had remained sealed since the day the Academy shuttered its gates, exploded inward.
The darkness didn’t spill out. Itmarched.
A figure stepped through, flanked by twisted echoes of magic that shrieked like wind through dead trees. His coat was high-collared, dark as pitch; his hair was swept back, like a nobleman dressed for war. But his eyes, those awful, familiar eyes, glowed with the faintest ember of cruelty. Cold. Patient. Calculating.
He smiled.
“Didn’t think I’d miss the final moment, did you?”
The room braced.
Keegan stepped forward, blade humming. “You’re not welcome here.”
Gideon’s eyes flicked to him, almost lazily. “Oh, Keegan. Still playing the loyal wolf. Still pretending loyalty isn’t just another kind of chain.”
Keegan didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Because I moved between them.
“I told you,” I said, voice hoarse but strong, “this place will never belong to you.”
Gideon tilted his head, that cruel smile twitching. “And yet I walked through the front door.”
The temperature dropped. Every window frosted at the corners. The light along the floor curled tighter, sensing the intrusion. Magic screamed through the foundation.
“Because the curse isn’t broken,” I said, voice cracking. “But it will be. And when it is, you won’t have anything left to twist.”
“Sweet Hedge witch,” he said, stepping closer. “You should’ve let the Moonbeam do its work. But instead, you wasted it on parlor tricks and hope.”
He lifted his hand.
