Chapter Thirty-Eight
The tea shop stayed quiet longer than I would’ve expected.
It wasn’t exactly fear. Stonewick had seen too much lately to panic over every strange turn. But Gideon standing there in Stella’s doorway changed the feel of the room all the same.
People noticed.
Conversations slowed. A few heads turned. You could almost see the thoughts moving behind their eyes as they watched him and tried to decide what his presence meant.
I was still sitting at the table near the window with Luna’s compress pressed against my shoulder when Keegan moved.
He didn’t rush.
He didn’t posture.
He just pushed himself away from the wall where he’d been standing and walked toward the door.
Toward Gideon.
Every pair of eyes in the shop followed him.
For a second, I thought they might start fighting right there between the teapots and the sugar bowls.
Keegan stopped a few feet from him, and the two of them stood there quietly, close enough that I could see the faint scratch still marking Keegan’s jaw and the calm, unreadable look Gideon wore like armor.
Keegan said something no one in the room expected.
“You might as well come sit down.”
The silence that followed could have been bottled and sold as a rare artifact.
Even Stella blinked.
Gideon tilted his head slightly, as if making sure he’d heard correctly.
“With you?” he asked.
Keegan shrugged.
“Unless you’d rather stand in the doorway all night.”
The corner of Gideon’s mouth twitched, and much to everyone’s surprise, he stepped further inside.
“Well,” Twobble whispered from somewhere behind my chair, “this is new.”
The entire room shifted to watch them walk over while Stella intercepted Gideon halfway across the floor.
She stepped directly into his path with the cast-iron skillet still gripped in one hand like a medieval weapon.
“Tea?” she asked.
Her tone made it sound less like an offer and more like a test.
Gideon glanced at the skillet and back at Stella.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “Tea would be nice.”
Stella stared at him for a long second and turned on her heel and marched back to the counter.
“Vivienne!” she called. “One more cup!”
“That man is either very brave,” Skonk muttered behind me, “or extremely foolish.”
Gideon reached the table a moment later, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind.
Up close, the resemblance I’d noticed earlier was harder to ignore. Something about the way he carried himself, the quiet steadiness in his expression…it echoed something I’d already seen tonight.
I forced myself not to stare as Keegan pulled out the chair across from me.
“Sit,” he told Gideon.
Gideon sat.
Just like that.
The most uncomfortable tea party in Stonewick history began.
Nobody spoke right away.
Stella arrived with the teacup and set it in front of Gideon with a solid thunk.
However, she did not put the skillet down.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” she replied and remained standing there for another three seconds before finally stalking away.
Nova leaned back in her chair and folded her arms.
“Well,” she said.
Gideon glanced at her. “Well?”
“You showing up tonight definitely wasn’t on my list.”
He gave a small, almost apologetic shrug. “I hear that a lot.”
But his attention moved to me.
It was subtle, but I felt it the moment it happened.
Concern.
The real kind.
“You’re hurt,” he said.
He wasn’t asking, just stating the facts.
I lifted the compress on my shoulder a little in response.
“Technically just scorched.”
Nova snorted. “That’s one way to describe it.”
Gideon leaned forward slightly, studying the edge of the mark where the cloth had shifted.
The room had grown quieter again, and I could feel people listening from nearby tables.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Shadow mark,” Nova said before I could answer.
Gideon’s eyes flicked to hers.
“The Priestess?”
Nova nodded.
“It embedded during the fight.”
That caught his attention.
For the first time since he’d walked in, Gideon looked genuinely surprised.
“That’s unusual.”
“Unusual how?” Bella asked.
He sat back again, fingers loosely wrapped around the teacup Stella had given him.
“The Priestess’s shadows usually leave scars,” he said. “Not anchors.”
Nova frowned and sighed. “An anchor.”
“That’s what it is.” Gideon nodded.
My stomach tightened slightly. “Fantastic.”
Gideon glanced back at me. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when I breathe.”
His mouth twitched. “That’s inconvenient.”
“Extremely.” I cleared my throat, debating what to say. “It changed how I fought.”
Luna adjusted the compress again with gentle hands, trading a look with her cousin. It wasn’t concerning.
“You should be resting,” Luna said.
“I’m resting.”
She chuckled. “You’re sitting upright and hosting supernatural diplomacy.”
“Semantics.” I shrugged, which made me hiss in pain.
Across the table, Keegan hadn’t said much.
He was watching, quiet, focused, waiting to see which direction it would move next.
Finally, he spoke. “You helped in the woods.”
Gideon lifted one shoulder.
“The Priestess and I still have business to settle,” he said.
“That makes two of us.”
Neither of them looked away.
Whatever passed between them wasn’t anger, and it wasn’t friendliness either. Just the quiet understanding of two people who knew they were tied to the same mess, whether they liked it or not.
Around us, the tea shop slowly picked up its rhythm again. Chairs scraped. Conversations started back up in low voices. Someone at the far table laughed a little too loudly, the way people do when they’re shaking off the last of a scare.
One of the orcs called out for more honey, and Opal immediately reminded him that tea was for sipping, not chugging like stew.
Little by little, the tension drained out of the room. People leaned back in their chairs. Another round of tea made its way to the tables.
The sharp edge of the night began to dull.
At some point, I realized the ache in my shoulder had dulled from blazing to merely annoying.
I also realized the shop had grown quieter again.
Not because of Gideon this time.
Because people were leaving.
The crowd had thinned without me noticing.
One table emptied and another, and the next…
Eventually, it was mostly just us.
A few orcs lingered near the counter.
Two shifters finished the last of their tea.
The vampire ladies quietly cleaned up the endless stack of cups.
The light had grown softer, too.
It must have been later than I thought.
I leaned back slightly in my chair and looked around.
“Where did everyone go?”
Bella glanced over her shoulder.
“Oh.” She laughed softly. “I guess people finally decided sleep was a good idea.”
Skonk stretched. “I strongly support that decision.”
Twobble yawned so widely I thought he might fall over. “Seconded.”
Outside the windows, Stonewick had gone mostly quiet.
Only a few lanterns still burned along the street.
Inside the shop, it felt… smaller.
Quieter.
Like the night had finally exhaled.
But the table where we sat still held something heavier.
Unfinished.
I looked around at the group.
Keegan.
Gideon.
Nova.
Bella.
Ardetia.
The goblins.
The vampire ladies listened from the counter.
It suddenly felt like we’d reached the part of the night where real conversations begin.
And judging by the way Keegan and Gideon were watching each other across the table…
There was still a lot left to say.
The tea shop had gone quiet in the way late nights sometimes do when the lamps are still burning, but the world outside has already decided to sleep.
A few orcs lingered near the counter, talking in low voices over the last of their tea.
Two shifters had pulled their chairs close to the hearth, half-dozing.
Behind the counter, Vivienne and Mara moved slowly through the routine of closing—washing cups, wiping tables, straightening things that had already been straightened once.
The room felt smaller now and more private, which meant the conversation that had been circling our table all night finally landed.
I turned the cup slowly in my hands, letting the warmth seep into my fingers. The steam curled up in thin white threads while I tried to decide how to say it.
“I ran into someone in the woods before the shadows showed up.”
The words weren’t dramatic, but the table went still anyway.
Nova’s eyes sharpened right away. Bella leaned in a little, elbows inching closer to the table. Keegan didn’t say anything, but I saw the tension settle across his shoulders.
Gideon just watched me.
“Rendel.” The name landed hard, and Keegan shifted in his chair, barely enough to notice unless you were looking for it. But I was.
And I noticed. Gideon did too. So, he knew that was Keegan’s father.
I kept going before anyone could jump in.
“He was looking for something.”
Gideon’s brow pulled in slightly. “What?”
“The shadow stone.”
That did it.
Something flickered across his face—quick, but not quick enough to miss. Recognition.
He gave a slow nod. “That tracks.”
Keegan leaned forward in his chair. “That tracks?”
Gideon ran his thumb along the rim of his teacup, thinking it through before he answered.
“It makes sense she’d send someone after it.”
I shook my head.
“That’s the strange part.”
Everyone looked at me.
“It didn’t feel like she sent him,” I said.
Bella frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t act like someone following orders,” I said. “If anything… it felt like he was trying to keep it away from her.”
Gideon’s gaze flicked briefly to Keegan and back to me.
“The martyr,” he said quietly.
I shrugged.
“Maybe.”
The word felt flimsy compared to the memory of that conversation in the woods.
“I don’t really know what he was trying to do,” I admitted. “But he was convinced I had the stone.”
Gideon looked up at that, his attention sharpening.
“Did you tell him I had it?”
I shook my head. “No.”
I took another sip of tea, buying myself a second before I went on.
“But I might’ve let him think I knew where it was.”
Gideon watched me for a moment, weighing that.
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to make a deal.”
The chair beside me creaked as Keegan sat up straighter.
“A deal?”
The word came out a little sharper than he probably meant it to.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“He said the Priestess had something I needed,” I said.
Nova’s face darkened. “Your mother.”
I didn’t say anything.
I didn’t have to. The silence answered for me.
Across the table, Gideon watched the two of us, quiet, taking it all in.
He leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh.
“And he thought the stone would buy her freedom.” It wasn’t phrased like a question.
I gave a small nod. “That was the idea.”
Keegan’s jaw tightened. “And you believed him?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you thought about it.”
I met his eyes. “You would’ve too.”
Neither of us spoke after that, and Gideon glanced around the table.
“What exactly did he say?”
I thought back to the woods.
The quiet way Rendel had watched me. The careful words he’d chosen.
“He said the Priestess wants the stone,” I said. “And that I have something she needs.”
Bella frowned.
“He seemed very interested in making sure Mariselle didn’t get the stone.”
Gideon’s fingers tapped lightly against the table.
“He would be.”
Keegan looked up. “You sound certain.”
Gideon lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “Rendel’s never had a simple relationship with power or Shadowick.” He looked directly at Keegan. “And certainly not Stonewick.”
Keegan went still beside me. That had hit a nerve. The tension slid across the table so clearly it almost felt like another person sitting there with us.
Nova caught it too. Her eyes moved from Gideon to Keegan, slow and thoughtful.
“You knew him,” she said.
Gideon didn’t answer right away. He took a moment, like he was deciding how much to say.
“Well enough.”
That didn’t really clear anything up.
The quiet that followed stretched a little too long.
I cleared my throat. “That’s not comforting.”
Gideon brought his gaze to mine. “It’s reality.”
Keegan leaned forward again. “And where exactly is this stone right now?”
Gideon looked at him.
“It’s safe.”
“That’s not an answer.” Keegan shook his head. “We could have been annihilated today. Maeve got hurt over it. We need answers. Not just an evasive one.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting tonight.” Gideon kept his composure.
Keegan exhaled sharply through his nose. “Convenient.”
Gideon tilted his head.
“You invited me to tea, wolf.”
“I’m thinking twice,” Keegan said, and I reached my hand to his knee.
Nova rubbed her temples. “This conversation is exhausting.”
Skonk, who had been quietly listening from the edge of the table, nodded.
“I agree.”
Twobble lifted a finger like he’d been waiting his whole life for the moment. “Also, for the record, mysterious magical artifacts have an extremely poor track record when it comes to improving group morale.”
Nova rubbed her temple. “Thank you, Twobble.”
“You’re welcome. I live to contribute useful observations.”
I looked down at the compress resting against my shoulder and shifted it a little. The worst of the pain had passed, but the ache had settled in deep and stubborn.
Across the table, Gideon noticed.
“You’re running out of steam,” he said.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“Also true.”
He watched me for a second longer than necessary, like he was deciding whether to argue about it, but his eyes moved to Keegan.
It was quick, but I caught it. Something quiet passed between them, nothing anyone else in the room would’ve noticed if they weren’t paying attention.
It wasn’t hostility and not agreement either, just the weight of history sitting there between them.
I shifted in my chair and suddenly had the uncomfortable sense that whatever we’d just talked through tonight wasn’t the end of anything.
If anything, it felt like we’d just opened the door.
Because if Rendel had come to Stonewick looking for the stone…
And Gideon already had it…
Then what were we supposed to do next?