Page 111 of Magical Moonbeam
Keegan’s smile only widened. “He has red bumps?”
I nodded, laughing. “Celeste sent me a photo this morning. They’re everywhere. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from cackling.”
He chuckled, the kind that made my stomach flip if I wasn’t careful. “You know, I was joking about the bed bug spell. Mostly.”
I leaned in a little, dropping my voice. “Aren’t you worried you’ll get a bad review?”
“For you?” He looked at me then, really looked. “Worth it. You always deserved better.”
I stared at him for a beat longer than I meant to. His voice had softened on those last words, like they carried more weight than just a casual compliment.
And there it was again, that pull. That terrifying, beautiful pull toward something more. Something warm and steady and honest.
And still, I tucked it away because…why now? Why, when I had so much in front of me and a world to save, did my heart want to have something it shouldn’t? Not now.
“Too much riding on Moonbeam,” I said quietly.
Keegan didn’t argue.
He just nodded once, as if he already knew where my thoughts were going. “Did you talk to Celeste?”
“I did.” I stirred my tea slowly. “She’s happy. Really happy. Told me all about this lake house his family has. The mom drives to campus every other Sunday to cook dinner for them.”
Keegan gave a low whistle. “Doesn’t sound too nefarious.”
“No,” I admitted, smiling faintly. “It sounds… nice.”
“And?”
“And I hate that it made me feel like I’ve been so far from her life. Like I blinked and she grew up.”
“You gave her space to grow,” he said gently. “There’s a difference.”
I nodded, but the ache lingered anyway. That ache of not being the one she turned to for comfort or Sunday dinners.
And then, because, of course, he had impeccable timing, Twobble came crashing next to me like a storm of limbs and announcements.
Twobble skidded next to me so fast he nearly knocked the honey off the counter. His sparse, green hair stood on end, his eyes wide and a shade brighter than usual, not with mischief this time, but something closer to alarm.
I set down my mug immediately.
Keegan stood straighter.
“Twobble?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away. He glanced around the room, taking in the laughter, the clatter of cutlery, and the carefree feel of the kitchen. His expression twisted. Unease didn’t suit him. It made him look older, somehow.
“We need to talk. Now.”
“Talk?” I echoed, my gut tightening. “What is it?”
He didn’t fumble or joke, didn’t throw a pebble or quote a riddled spell from an obscure grimoire like he usually did when nervous. He simply looked me in the eye.
“It’s Nova. And Lady Limora. They found something. You need to come. Right now.”
Keegan’s eyes flicked to mine. “Do you want me to come too?”
I hesitated for half a second, but the look in Twobble’s eyes, whatever he’d learned, it wasn’t something casual. It wasn’t gossip.
