Page 188 of Magical Moonbeam
Towering over him.
Bigger.
Older.
More.
Gideon tried to rise, his cloak slipping from one shoulder, exposing bloodied runes carved into his skin. Desperate things. Anchors. Magic stolen and burned and shoved where it didn’t belong.
“You were never strong enough,” Gideon rasped. “You’re just a beast who follows orders.”
Keegan growled again, deeper this time.
And then…
He shifted back.
It was fast, fur pulling back, limbs folding inward, the golden light dimming as Keegan returned to himself, bloodied and bruised.
Human.
But never less.
He stood over Gideon now, taller even in this form, chest heaving, blood trailing from his shoulder.
And he said, voice like gravel soaked in thunder: “I didn’t do this because of orders. I did it because of her.”
His gaze met mine across the battlefield.
Everything in me stopped.
Keegan didn’t look away.
He didn’t need to.
The air between us burned with something far more dangerous than rage.
Devotion.
“You’ve underestimated everyone here,” Keegan continued, turning back to Gideon. “Maeve. The students. The land itself. And you underestimated me.”
Gideon tried to conjure something, one last spell, one last blade of shadow, but Keegan kicked it aside like it was smoke and slammed a hand into the wall beside Gideon’s head.
“You don’t get to come back from this,” Keegan said. “Next time… you won’t have a shadow left to crawl into.”
“Keegan!” I shouted, the fear returning to my throat. “He’s—”
But it was too late.
A pulse of magic burst from Gideon’s chest, a last-ditch spell, chaotic and furious. It threw Keegan back ten feet.
When the dust cleared, Gideon was gone.
But the hall was quiet.
Keegan staggered to his feet, every inch of him shaking, every breath rasping.
But he was alive.
