Page 2 of Magical Moonbeam
He came to lean beside me against the stone wall, and the quiet between us was as easy as breathing. His presence neverdemanded anything. He didn’t push or pull. He justwas. 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 hairdoestry 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.
“Youwerestewing,” 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, itlooksconvincing.” 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?”
“Stopplayingthe part,” he said, voice low but sure. “Beyou. 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. Andyou, 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.
