Chapter Thirteen
I looked at Keegan and smiled. We had stepped away from the banquet hall as things were winding down. We walked outside, and the cool fall air skated over my cheeks.
“Gideon told me that he thinks the Priestess will go after Celeste.”
Keegan's jaw clenched, and he nodded slowly. “I would like to think it would never get to that.”
“I suppose it already has. I believe we need to send someone to her. I don't think it's safe enough to bring her back.”
Keegan scratched his jaw and nodded slowly, looking up at the star-filled sky. “Who do you think would be best for it?”
I shook my head and let out a deep sigh. “I don't know.”
But I did know. I wanted Keegan to be watching over my daughter. If anyone could protect her, I knew it was him.
“Do you find it odd that Rendel is not here?”
His eyes stayed on mine. “Odd? No. Worrisome? Yes.”
The night settled deeper around the Academy, and the soft whir of magic from the Wards brushed against the edges of the silence in a way that should have felt comforting.
It didn’t.
“Is that because your dad always does that?” I asked. “He’d show up exactly when he needed to, said just enough to shift everything, and then he’d be gone before anyone could ask the question that mattered?”
Keegan didn’t answer right away, but I saw the way his shoulders shifted, the way his breath slowed as if he was deciding how much to give me.
He sighed. “That’s nothing new.”
I glanced at him. “No?”
He shook his head, his gaze drifting past me for a second before returning.
“He’s always moved like that. In and out.
He never stayed long enough to be pinned down, never explaining more than he wanted to.
My mom and dad raised me in Stonewick, but my mom was the only constant in my life.
My dad would come and go while I grew up, but when the curse came down, they both left and didn’t look back. ”
“Until recently.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded.
“I remember Stella or Nova telling me something like that…as if he never quite fit the mold for Stonewick.” I shrugged. “I just didn’t know what they meant.”
“He did what he wanted. Always did. He was probably grateful the curse hit, so he had an excuse to leave for good.”
“You don’t mean that.” I reached for his hand.
He nodded. “I do.”
I exhaled slowly, letting the cool air fill my lungs before I spoke again. “Gideon said something else.”
Keegan’s expression changed. “What?”
“He told me that we shouldn’t trust everyone who shows up in our circle.”
“I don’t think that takes a genius to come up with that.”
I laughed, looking toward the Academy. “It felt pointed.”
Keegan’s jaw tightened slightly.
“You think he meant Rendel.”
“I do. And Rendel disappeared.”
Keegan nodded once, slow and measured. “Caleb mentioned he’d disappeared at some point, but he didn’t know exactly when.”
The quiet stretched felt fuller and heavier.
If Rendel helped us, why would he try to hurt us?
But then I thought of Gideon and how often his choices contradicted one another.
“That doesn’t clear Rendel,” I said softly. “Or make him the fall guy.”
“No,” Keegan agreed. “It absolutely doesn’t.”
“It just makes it harder to understand who to trust.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “But I would never trust my father.”
I folded my arms slightly, more out of habit than anything else, my thoughts moving faster now as the pieces refused to settle into something clean.
“I don’t like the timing,” I continued. “I don’t like the way Gideon looked at me when he said what he said. And I don’t like that Rendel isn’t here now.”
Keegan let out a slow breath and nodded. “True.”
There wasn’t anger or bitterness in his response, just fact.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
“I know,” he replied. “Thanks, Maeve. But he’s the one who should be apologizing to my mom, Stonewick…the Academy.”
“And you.”
He nodded. “He won’t.”
The way he said it told me he knew exactly what that meant.
And exactly what it didn’t.
I studied him for a second longer, watching the way the light from the Academy caught along the edge of his face, the way he held himself like someone who had already made peace with things he hadn’t said out loud yet.
“Does it bother you?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he looked out toward the edge of the grounds, toward the darkness beyond where the Wards held steady.
“Not in the way you’d think,” he said.
I waited, holding his hand.
“It’s not about whether he shows up or leaves,” he continued. “That’s who he is. It always has been.”
“And you’re okay with that?” I asked.
He shook his head slightly. “No. I mean, I even thought he’d passed away.”
That answer came more easily for him.
“When I was younger, I didn’t know better. I thought every time he came back, it meant something had changed, and that he was going to stay.”
I felt something tighten in my chest at that, and I wondered where he always went.
“And he never did,” I said.
“No,” he agreed. “Even now.”
The word wasn’t jagged or bitter.
It just… was.
“He’d stay long enough to fix something,” Keegan continued, his voice steady but quieter now. “Or break something. Sometimes both. And then he’d leave again before anyone could ask him to stay.”
“That had to be hard.”
Was he just disappearing before the truth could catch up? And whose truth?
“And you learned not to expect anything different,” I said.
He nodded once. “I learned to stop waiting.”
“Would you expect him to be part of the Priestess’ minions?”
“I couldn’t say.” He broke his gaze from mine and glanced toward the Academy, and my heart ached for him.
“The day the battle with Priestess started in the woods, I met him.”
“You did?” His brows lifted.
“I was with Twobble, and I didn't know who he was.” I glanced around and brought my gaze back. “Twobble explained who he was to me. It took Twobble a bit of time to recognize him.”
“I see.”
“It was right before the Priestess and her shadows came.”
“Before you were wounded,” he said gruffly. “Before you were marked by the shadow.”
I nodded. “He made it sound like he knew the Priestess or had connections to her. It wasn’t a threat, but more of a…” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Informational thing or like he could help us.”
His eyes darkened, and he shrugged. “In exchange for something, I imagine.”
The honesty in that sat heavy between us, not uncomfortable, just real.
I stepped a little closer, not thinking about it, just moving into the space where I could feel him more clearly, where the quiet between us didn’t feel so wide.
“But he helped us today,” I said.
“He did.”
“And you still don’t trust it.” I studied him.
Keegan let out a small breath, something almost like a laugh but not quite. “Trust and understanding aren’t the same thing.”
“No,” I agreed.
“They never have been.” He shook his head. “But no, I don’t.”
I nodded. “I don’t either.”
The wind shifted slightly, carrying the scent of leaves and something faintly sweet from the banquet hall behind us, the normalcy of it all brushing up against everything we had just come from.
“Gideon said something else,” I added.
Keegan glanced at me again. “There’s more?”
“There’s always more with him,” I said quietly. “He told me that whatever is happening… the timing isn’t right.”
Keegan’s brow furrowed slightly. “For what?”
“I don’t know, but it didn’t feel like a warning. It felt like a fact.” I shrugged. “He keeps bringing up how we have something of his.”
“There are times when I think he believes you're that something.”
I rolled my eyes, but I realized he was serious. “Not happening.”
We stood there for a moment, the quiet settling again, but it didn’t feel empty.
I looked at him, really looked this time, at the way he carried everything he didn’t say, the way he stayed steady even when everything around us refused to be.
And something in me shifted, just enough that I knew I couldn’t leave it unspoken.
“Keegan,” I said softly.
He turned to me fully now, his attention settling in a way that made everything else fade just slightly at the edges.
“Yeah?”
I hesitated.
Not because I didn’t know what I wanted to ask, but because I wasn’t sure what the answer would change.
“There’s something you’re not telling me, Maeve.” His eyes stayed on mine, and the familiar sensation fluttered in my belly.
I shook my head and stepped closer as he pulled me in, and I rested my hands on his chest, looking into his eyes.
“It’s not like that. I’m just afraid to ask.”
Keegan didn’t move right away.
His hands rested at my waist like he was giving me the space to pull back if I wanted to. But I didn’t.
I stayed there, close enough that I could feel the rise and fall of his chest, close enough that everything else seemed to fade just a little at the edges.
“Since when are you afraid to ask anything?” he said quietly.
A small smile tugged at my lips. “Since the answer started to matter.”
“You can ask me anything,” he said.
“I know,” I replied, though my voice came out softer than I intended.
My pulse picked up again, not from fear this time, but something else, something that had been building slowly between us without either of us naming it.
Keegan’s hand lifted just slightly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face, his fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.
“You’re overthinking it,” he murmured.
“I always do,” I said.
“Try not to.”
I let out a small breath, my hands still resting against his chest, feeling the steady strength of him beneath my palms.
“I just—”
The words didn’t come, and before I could find them, before I could push past whatever hesitation had taken hold, Keegan closed the distance.
The kiss wasn’t hesitant. It was warm and certain.
My breath caught for a second, and then I leaned into it without thinking, my fingers curling slightly against his shirt as everything else fell away for just a moment.
Just long enough to forget the stone.
The Priestess.
And just long enough to feel something that didn’t come with a weight attached to it.
“Maeve—” Keegan’s voice was low as our kiss lingered.
“Oh, good. You’re both out here—” Stella’s voice cut through the moment so cleanly that I jerked back before I even realized I had moved.
My heart jumped straight into my throat as Keegan took a step back, his hand dropping from my waist like he’d been caught doing something he absolutely had been.
Twobble crashed into Stella from behind with a soft grunt. “I told you not to announce it like that—oh—oh wow! This is…this is a moment.”
“Twobble,” Stella said, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice as her gaze flicked between us.
“I can go,” Twobble added quickly. “We can both go. We didn’t see anything. I saw nothing. Absolutely nothing. I got your back, Maeve.”
“You are still standing here,” Stella pointed out.
“Yes, but mentally I have left,” he replied.
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I glanced at Keegan, who looked just as caught off guard, though there was something in his expression that hadn’t been there before, something softer, something that hadn’t faded even with the interruption.
Stella cleared her throat lightly. “We’ll… give you a moment.”
“Yes,” Twobble agreed, already backing away. “A full moment. Possibly two.”
“Go,” Keegan said, his voice low but steady.
They didn’t need to be told twice.
Twobble turned and practically tripped over himself heading back toward the doors, Stella following at a far more composed pace, though I caught the smallest hint of a smile on her lips before she disappeared inside.
The quiet settled again, but it wasn’t as quiet as before.
I pressed my lips together as I tried to regain some semblance of composure.
“Well,” I said softly.
Keegan let out a small laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”
Neither of us moved right away, and then his gaze shifted back to me, steady, focused in a way that made my pulse pick up all over again.
“You were going to ask me something,” he said.
Right.
That.
The reason I had stepped closer in the first place and why my chest still felt tight in a way that had nothing to do with the kiss and everything to do with what came next.
I drew in a breath, forcing myself to hold his gaze.
“Keegan…”
My voice softened, not from uncertainty, but from the weight of what I was about to ask.
“Would you be willing,” I continued, my heart pressing against my ribs now, steady and insistent, “to keep Celeste safe?”
The words settled between us, but Keegan didn’t answer right away.
He didn’t interrupt.
He didn’t look away.
He just reflected.
And that made the silence harder.