Or for me.
“No,” I whispered to myself. “You don’t get to claim me.”
Somewhere above, stone shifted, and a door closed itself.
The Academy settled into readiness, and I realized that whatever I’d thought we ended in Shadowick by rescuing Gideon to complete the circle hadn’t been an ending at all. It was a hinge. A turning. A reshaping of the board.
The battle cry hadn’t returned for revenge.
It had returned for purpose and lineage.
Perhaps, for me.
And as the Wards adjusted their rhythm to find the right balance, ancient, deliberate, and irrevocable, I understood the truth settling into my bones like a vow I hadn’t known I was making.
In Stonewick, magic always exacts its price.
This time, it wasn’t asking politely.
And whatever the Priestess wanted, whatever truth was clawing its way up from the Academy’s foundations, it was bound to my destiny now, whether I agreed to it or not.
It felt like the halls fell silent as if they were listening and waiting for my next move.
When suddenly, Twobble arrived like a bad decision fueled by panic and crumbs.
He came skidding down the corridor on one heel, arms windmilling, messenger bag thumping against his hip, and heshrieked, coming to a halt just shy of slamming into the stone wall.
“NOPE. Absolutely not. I draw the line right here,” he announced, slapping both palms on his knees and gasping dramatically. “I will not live in a town where Gideon gets to wander around like he owns the place, sniffing the Wards, humming ominously, and leaving emotional moodiness like muddy footprints.”
I blinked. “Good morning to you, too, Twobble.”
He pointed at me with a shaking finger. “Do you know what I just felt?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“A ripple,” he hissed. “A creepy, spine-itchy, very rude ripple. The kind that says someone is testing boundaries and thinking thoughts they shouldn’t be thinking within fifty yards of my goblin tunnels.”
Behind him, the Academy doors sighed open again.
Nova entered first, staff tucked under her arm, eyes already sharp and searching. Stella followed, gliding like she owned the place, which, spiritually speaking, she did. Her shawl was perfectly arranged, and scarlet lips pursed with interest.
Bella slipped in next, light on her feet, head tilted as if listening to something beneath the stone, while Ardetia lingered at the threshold for half a breath before stepping fully inside. Her presence was soft but deliberate, and I welcomed them all because just the sight of them soothed me and pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Well,” Stella said pleasantly, surveying us. “This feels festive.”
“Festive is not the word I’d use,” Twobble shot back. “Try ominous, impending, or someone-is-about-to-do-something-very-stupid-and-it’s-not-me-for-once.”
Nova’s gaze flicked to me. “He’s not wrong.”
That settled like a stone in my stomach.
“For once, you could just say the goblin is right.” Twobble’s little arms folded over his chest.
Keegan walked into the hall and moved to my side without a sound. I felt him before I saw him. It was the steady heat of his wolf, and the quiet gravity that always seemed to anchor the room when he entered it. He didn’t crowd me, didn’t touch me at first, just stood close enough that I could lean if I needed to.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked softly.
The answer rose swiftly in my mind.
