But I clung to the burn in my chest, to Keegan at my side, to the students pressing forward with light and flame and fury. I clung to the vision of Gideon in the circle, no longer our enemy but our ally.
We would end this pursuit to divide, even if it broke us first.
I knew what I had to do.
And I would not fail.
The shadows surged again.
And I braced, ready to burn myself hollow if it meant we had a chance.
My energy trembled under the pounding weight of shadowed claws, every strike rattling up my arms until my teeth ached.
The Academy’s walls behind were groaning.
Its runes bled light into the shadows as power surged like a living heartbeat, rushing through my arms, scorching my veins, sparking light behind my eyes.
At first, I thought it was only the Butterfly Ward whispering to me with the hush of magic calming my breath. But then I felt it: the steady weight of Stone Ward anchoring my spine, the fiery spark of the Flame Ward thrumming in my chest, the sweetmaple warmth threading through my blood like honey, feeding me endless energy. Each Ward was reaching for me, not just protecting, but offering. Lending me pieces of themselves.
It wasn’t one Ward.
It was all of them.
And as their strength flowed into me, I realized I wasn’t standing alone at all. The Wards of Stonewick had chosen us to lift the light into the world.
I staggered under the force of it, but instead of breaking, I rose taller. Stronger. My fears, my doubts…they burned away in the heat of the Flame Ward, dissolved into the grounding hush of stone, lifted in the bright wings of butterflies.
I was not just Maeve, the fumbling Hedge Witch who botched brownies. I was Maeve, chosen by the Wards, alive with their memory and strength.
Somewhere beyond, Malore’s call echoed through the night, dark and terrible. But for the first time, I didn’t flinch.
I burned brighter.
We were ready.
The courtyard was chaos. Shadows swirled like a black tide, crashing against clusters of shifters and witches who fought shoulder to shoulder. Lightning licked across the stones, illuminating faces twisted in determination and fear. And there, in the thick of it…
“Dad!”
His voice bellowed, clear even above the roar. He was in his human form, holding a torch in one hand like it was a spear, his other arm outstretched to shield a witch struggling withher charms. His movements were steady, stubborn, the way he always had been, whether bulldog or man.
And at his side, leaping like a wild thing from shadow to shadow, was Twobble. His grin was feral, his knife flashing in one hand as he darted low under a beast’s claws and slit it across the belly. The shadow shrieked, bursting into smoke, and Twobble didn’t even pause before he shouted something I couldn’t hear and dove at the next one.
My chest clenched. Malore hadn’t just thrown his shadows at the doors. He’d lured fighters outside, baiting them into the open where the Wards couldn’t shield them.
But I couldn’t think of that now. Not with the storm pressing heavier, the air crackling, and the shadows suddenly parting as though bowing to their king.
And then I saw him clearly.
Malore.
He stepped from the fog as though he had always been there, as though the storm had been stitched to his shoulders. His wolf body was made of shadow and stormlight, taller than any man, broader than the gate itself. His face flickered with jagged edges, eyes burning like dying stars.
He towered over me, the courtyard stones shuddering under his weight.
But I didn’t wither.
My heart thundered, my hands trembled, but something inside me steadied. I had faced curses and betrayals, illusions and grief. I had faced Gideon’s darkness, Keegan’s curse, my own doubts.
