Chapter Thirty-Two
I woke in a rush of adrenaline, trying to ground myself in reality as my eyes flashed open. My cottage's old, rickety ceiling greeted me rather than the grand vaulted ceilings of the Academy.
I shoved off my comforter and stretched before standing on the chilly floor.
Had all of that happened? The dragons, the secrets about shifters, the heavy corridors… Or was it just some wild, half-lucid dream conjured by exhaustion?
But then I caught a whiff of something mouth-watering—bacon.
My memories ran wild with s hifters, clans, dragons…
My grandfather.
But now, the smell of frying bacon and the distant clank of pans drowned out the heaviness in my chest. It was as though I’d fallen into some ordinary morning routine, the type you’d see in a quaint bed-and-breakfast.
Except I lived alone, well, partially. Miora had never woken me up with breakfast in bed. Twobble usually turned the tables and had me serve him, but Karvey never seemed like much of an eater. And well, Frank didn’t have opposable thumbs.
“Stella?” I called from the upstairs loft.
My voice sounded scratchy from sleep, but I didn’t hear her answer.
So, I did what any reasonable human would do and followed the delicious scent.
The fire in the hearth had been stoked and gave off a comforting glow. It must be Stella.
“Did you raid my pantry again?” I teased, turning the corner.
I half-expected my elderly vampire friend to hand me a croissant.
Instead, when I entered the kitchen, Keegan turned to face me.
He stood at the stove, spatula in hand, a couple of plates on the counter, and a pan of crispy bacon sizzling away. The overhead light created a halo around him, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw and the shadow of stubble on his cheeks.
Keegan looked calm. And when his gaze landed on me, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Morning,” he said, his voice low, making my stomach flip.
I blinked, unable to shake my surprise.
“Uh—hi.” I tugged my bathrobe tighter around me, suddenly self-conscious. “Did…did I miss something? Am I in trouble?”
Keegan’s eyes glinted with amusement.
“You mean because you snuck out to the Academy?” He turned off the stove burner and stepped back from the sizzling bacon. “There could be worse things.”
I let out a slow breath.
“Ah, good.” I stepped forward and shamelessly stole a piece of bacon, popping it into my mouth with a grin. “But you’re in trouble.”
He raised an eyebrow, turning to face me fully. “Oh, yeah?”
The heat of his gaze, the way the corner of his lips quirked up, sparked a sensation in my chest that was full of comfort and tension.
My mind flashed unbidden to the Academy’s corridors and the dragons swirling in the dim light.
My grandfather.
But I shoved that memory aside, focusing on the here and now.
I chewed the piece of bacon slowly, doing my best to look stern.
“Yeah, for not telling me that someone breached the Wards.”
“Right,” he said, exhaling like he’d anticipated this. “That. In all fairness, you left so quickly that how could I?” He shot me a pointed look, and I felt a small stab of guilt. I had basically run off. I shrugged, swallowing the last bit of bacon.
“Fair point.”
Silence fell between us, the quiet hum of the kitchen broken only by the crackle of the bacon grease cooling in the pan. I lingered by the counter, reconciling the conflicting images of the Academy’s solemn halls and Keegan cooking breakfast like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I was eye-to-eye with a baby dragon one minute, and the next…
Before either of us could speak again, there was a sharp knock at the door.
We turned in unison. Keegan set the spatula down, wiping his hands on a dishrag.
“Expecting someone?”
I frowned. “Not that I remember.”
He gave me a pointed look as though to say That’s not exactly reliable these days , and I rolled my eyes in return. He gestured for me to proceed, so I moved toward the door.
Halfway across the living room, he added quietly, “Maeve, it’s Christmas.”
“Christmas?” I repeated, my brows pinching.
The reality hit me like a splash of cold water.
Had I been at the Academy for that long? I’d been so lost in the labyrinth of corridors and revelations—shifters, clans, familial secrets, the existence of dragons—that the calendar dates had slipped my mind.
With a half-laugh, half-groan, I mumbled under my breath. “Of course, I was at the Academy for days.”
Keegan’s smirk followed me across the room. I hesitated at the door, adjusting my bathrobe and raking a hand through my hair to make it somewhat presentable.
Outside, snow dusted the cottage’s small porch. I wondered who might be braving the cold this early on Christmas morning.
The knock sounded again, more insistent. Steeling myself, I opened the door.
A swirl of icy air rushed in as I blinked in surprise at the unexpected figure on my stoop.
Stella stood in a bright red beanie and matching mittens, a snow flurry clinging to her coat. She’d placed some green garland around her ankle boots.
She balanced a box wrapped in gold foil in her arms, a ribbon precariously slipping off one side. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and her breath came in little bursts of visible steam.
“Merry Christmas!” she exclaimed, thrusting the box forward with a grin. Then her gaze flicked behind me, noticing Keegan in the kitchen. “Oh, wow. Am I interrupting something?
I rubbed a hand over my face. “Yes, you’re interrupting me, realizing I missed how long I’ve been gone.”
She hopped inside without waiting for an invitation. “You’re not the only one who loses track. But seriously, girl, you vanish for days, don’t respond to texts, and then—” She paused, eyes widening as she took in the aroma of bacon. “Well, I guess you’ve been living your best life since your return.”
I closed the door behind her and crossed my arms.
“I wouldn’t call it that. But yeah, I, uh… I got back late last night.”
Stella raised a brow, noticing Keegan leaning casually against the counter.
“Late last night, huh?” She dragged out the syllables suggestively, casting a meaningful glance from me to him.
He shrugged, offering Stella a nod. “We were just catching up.”
The tension in the room was faint but palpable.
Stella had that curious glint in her eye like she was ready to pry. I cleared my throat, stepping between them.
“So what’s in the box?” I asked, aiming to redirect her attention.
“Oh!” Stella perked up. “Cookies, obviously. And some scones I tried to bake.” She rolled her eyes in a self-deprecating gesture. “But you know how I am with recipes—sometimes things get a bit chaotic. I figured Christmas morning deserves a little treat, though.”
“That’s sweet,” I said, gratitude softening my voice. “Thanks for thinking of me.”
She set the box on the small dining table. “Of course. It’s tradition.”
I laughed and couldn’t help smiling at that.
Tradition.
It struck me how I’d been so entangled in the Academy’s centuries-old secrets and curses that I’d overlooked the simple comfort of normal holiday routines.
“I just feel so bad. I didn’t realize it was Christmas. I don’t have anything for you.”
Stella chuckled. “You’re gift enough, my dear.”
Keegan ambled over, nodding at Stella. “I suppose I should be the first to volunteer as a taste tester.”
Stella laughed, surrendering the box with mock reluctance. “Be my guest. Just don’t blame me if they turn out… interesting.”
A comfortable quiet settled for a moment as Keegan rummaged in the box, and Stella slid off her coat, shaking out the snow. Nostalgia filled me to the brim as gratefulness swept through me that I’d made it out in time to celebrate the holiday with my friends.
Still, my mind refused to let me forget everything I’d seen and learned.
Those swirling memories of dragons, shifters, and the uncertain power play I barely understood rattled me to my core. The ghosts of that knowledge lingered at the edges of my awareness, sending tiny jolts of adrenaline through me every time I recalled them.
But as I watched Keegan grin around a mouthful of scone and Stella roll her eyes in mock despair at his lack of manners, I allowed myself a moment of peace. I’d ask him about the Wards and what happened while I was gone later.
For now, I let the comforting smells of bacon and cinnamon fill the air, and the joy of friendship and… whatever Keegan’s presence meant… soothe the raw edges of my mind.
In the hushed quiet of Christmas morning, as snow dusted the windows and laughter replaced the tension I’d carried for days, I found a fragile acceptance. Perhaps life could be mysterious and magical in one breath and cozy and close-knit in the next.
I hoped so.
Because if the last few days had taught me anything, balance was essential. And I intended to hold onto that balance, no matter how many dragons, curses, or secrets tried to tip the scales.
Nova arrived next, a gust of cold air following her through the door. She waved off the chill with a casual flick, her heavy green shawl dusted in snow. Behind her came Ember, cheeks pink from the cold but eyes bright, carrying a small basket that smelled of cinnamon and cloves. Twobble was last, shouldering his way inside with an exaggerated sigh, grumbling about how nobody thought to hold the door for a dignified goblin such as himself as his tiny foot kicked it open.
I couldn’t help but laugh, and the tension of the past days melted away. The fire crackled joyfully in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
Frank lifted his head from his cozy spot on the rug, snorting a greeting as he realized more company had arrived.
I glanced at Keegan. His broad shoulders relaxed, though he still radiated that calm vigilance I’d recognized. Stella took Ember’s basket and dug through it, her expression lighting up when she pulled out a spiced cranberry loaf.
It was Christmas, and I felt genuinely at peace for the first time in a long while. Nova slid off her shawl, shaking out the remaining snowflakes, and joined the others around my small dining table, now laden with mugs of hot cocoa and plates of pastries.
Bright-eyed Ember quickly stepped in to help serve while Twobble grumbled that nobody ever thought to offer him a seat. I watched all of them—my new, unexpected family—chatting and laughing, the gentle murmur of voices weaving peace into every corner of the cottage.
A soft ping beeped from my cell phone, and my heart fluttered as I read the date and time reminder and texted my daughter a simple message.
Merry Christmas. Love you more than you know.
Within seconds, my phone buzzed with a reply.
Merry Christmas to you, Mom. I love you. Aspen is great. But Dad’s new girlfriend is only a year older than me.
I chuckled, thinking back to his Thanksgiving rendezvous, and typed a quick text.
I thought she was a few years older.
A new text slid over.
No, this is a different woman than the one on Thanksgiving. But it’s a free ski trip. Miss ya.
Relief and gratitude flooded me. She was safe and happy—even if she was far away, forging her own path.
And even better, I didn’t care who my ex was banging. I just…I just felt sorry for her.
I looked around the cottage again, taking in the sight of everyone gathered. And I realized I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Not in the bustling city, not locked away in the Academy, not even trailing off on some new adventure. Right here in the glow of this small, magical world, I’d found was exactly where I belonged.