Page 121 of Magical Mayhem
Twobble gawked at him. “I have, of course! You think I’m some kind of monster? I’m not about to let a mule starve to death!”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “This is not the important part.”
Keegan’s jaw flexed. “Where did the mule come from?”
Both goblins went quiet. Even Skonk’s grin dimmed.
At last, Skonk shrugged, unbothered. “Fine. I’ll tell him. I loaded Gideon on the mule, charmed it to trot straight into the Wilds, and let the beast do the heavy lifting. Worked like a charm.”
Keegan went rigid, his hazel eyes snapping to mine.
I grimaced, gave the weakest nod in history. “Long story.”
Silence pressed tight around us, broken only by the distant clatter of dishes from the banquet hall. Keegan’s breath came sharper now, his gaze darkened with a fury that hadn’t yet found words.
Twobble and Skonk glanced between us nervously.
The air shifted. Cold swept down the corridor, so suddenly it raised goosebumps along my arms. The runes above our heads trembled with a faint, uneasy hum.
Keegan stiffened. I turned sharply toward the far end of the hall.
Because from the shadows, something moved.
Not a student.
Something else.
And I knew in my bones, the mule was suddenly the least of our problems.
The air in the corridor tasted metallic. Shadows seemed to shiver at the edges, pressing closer, whispering along the stone.
Keegan’s hazel eyes narrowed, darkened, until they looked almost hollow. His chest rose faster, shallow breaths like a man listening to something no one else could hear.
“Keegan?” I asked, my voice low. I reached for his arm, but his body jerked as if he were pulling against some invisible leash.
He didn’t answer.
The expression on his face gutted me.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
It was the unmistakable look of recognition. As if whatever was in the shadows had called to him before.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. My throat felt tight. “It’s not you. It’s not yours.”
The shadows had sensed his vulnerability with his mom, and now it was their time.
But even as I said it, dread coiled in my stomach. Malore had twisted Gideon with words and promises, had dragged him down the Hunger Path decades ago. And now… now it felt like that same call was reaching for Keegan.
The ancient rites, the true ones meant to bind shifters together, to strengthen the circle, had been warped, poisoned by Malore’s hand. If Keegan heard them now, they wouldn’t sound like unity. They’d sound like power. They’d sound like temptation.
I slid in front of him, hands firm against his chest. “Stay with me. Look at me, not the dark.”
His gaze flicked down to mine, just for a heartbeat. His hazel eyes were clouded, heavy with something I couldn’t quite chase away. But they were still his. Still Keegan’s.
Behind us, Twobble and Skonk had gone uncharacteristically silent, sensing the danger.
