Page 14 of Awakened Destiny (The Dark Ascendant #3)

Callen

The scent of coffee hits me as I round the corner. Rory and Tiernan stand there, balancing trays laden with breakfast and steaming mugs.

"How's she doing?" I ask, nodding at their cargo.

Rory's shoulders slump. "She's okay, I guess. Still shaken up."

"We're keeping a close watch. She needs time." Tiernan ’ s face gives nothing away, but there ’ s a note of concern in his voice that he can ’ t hide.

I run a hand through my hair, exhaustion seeping into my bones. "I'll stop by later. Make sure she eats something."

They nod and head off, leaving me to face the crowded dining hall alone. Fuck, I need caffeine.

As I push through the doors, Laria's shrill voice cuts through the chatter. That bitch never shuts up.

I try to tune her out, focusing on the coffee station ahead. One foot in front of the other. Don't engage.

But her words slither into my ears anyway, poisonous and cruel. "She ’ s unstable... dangerous. The freak is a threat to us all... "

That vamp never learns.

A group of students huddle around Laria's table, eyes wide as they drink in her venomous gossip. Idiots.

I pour my coffee with measured movements, fighting the urge to march over there and shut her up. Permanently.

The mug burns my palm as I grip it too tightly and I make myself take a deep breath. There are bigger battles. Laria is the least of our problems.

I turn, scanning the room, and that's when I spot Eira. She's off to the side, not part of Laria's flock, but close enough to hear every word. Her eyes are fixed on the floor, shoulders hunched.

Guilt. It's written all over her.

My shoulders tense. Eira. The Council. All of them playing their fucked-up games with Brigid's life. Eira ’ s role in all of it will need to be dealt with, eventually. I take a sip of coffee, bitter and scalding. It matches my mood.

Laria's voice rises again, dripping with false concern. "I heard she stole magic from the Council itself. Can you imagine? She's even more of a menace now."

The crowd gasps. Whispers ripple through the room.

I grind my teeth. How the fuck does she know anything about what went down with the Council? Someone's been talking. Someone on the Council.

My eyes go back to Eira. She looks ready to bolt.

I down half my coffee in one go, ignoring the burn. There's a growing list of situations I need to deal with.

The king is dead and the throne sits empty. The Council ’ s probably already measuring Mother for a new crown so they can jerk the ruler of the Fae kingdom around on puppet strings. I can see it now—Queen Maywen ’ s vacant smile, her hands trembling around a scepter someone else wields. Weakness disguised as mourning. They ’ ll eat her alive.

Then there are still the elites, and the Council.

Laria.

Eira.

But first things first. Laria needs a reminder that she ’ s been told to keep her mouth shut where Brigid is concerned.

I set my mug down with a sharp click. Time to remind these fuckers who they're dealing with. The coffee turns to acid in my stomach when Laria hits her stride. She perches on a table like some vulture. "They let that shadow bitch walk free after everything she ’ s done?" Her laugh rings out too bright, too sharp. "Makes you wonder who ’ s really pulling the strings around here."

Her little entourage leans forward.

My fist tightens around the mug handle.

Laria cocks her head, all mock concern. "I heard that several of the Council members were killed. She did that. She ’ s a murderer." She lets the word hang, poisonous.

Laria ’ s smile doesn ’ t waver as I approach, but her mouth is rigid. The room goes dead silent.

"You ’ ve got an impressive imagination," I say. "Shame it ’ s wedded to such a spectacular lack of self-preservation."

Her fangs glint. "Merely sharing concerns. We ’ re all invested in the safety of—"

"Let ’ s skip the false concern for anyone ’ s safety or well-being." I move in closer, keeping my voice low. It ’ s still the loudest thing in the room, now that it ’ s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. "You ’ ve had warnings."

Laria examines her manicure. Bright purple polish on nails filed into daggers. Garish, like her. "Tell me, Prince. Do they take shifts guarding your pet monster, or does Brigid sleep curled at the foot of your—"

The mug shatters on the wall behind her head and my coffee drips down the wood panels.

No one breathes.

I lean in until her cold breath mists my face. "Say her name again."

For half a second, I see it, the calculation. How many allies are in this room? How fast can she move? Then she thinks better of it, lucky for her.

"You ’ ve made your point." She smoothes non-existent wrinkles from her clothing. "But the Council will make theirs soon enough. Best choose the right side, your highness."

I catch a flash of black in my peripheral, and then Marius is beside me. He cracks his knuckles, covered in swirls and symbols, the formerly black tattoos now a faded gray after the release of the Raven King ’ s powers.

I wonder how much of his own shadow magic still remains.

Laria ’ s throat bobs when Marius props one boot on the bench beside her.

“ Know what they do to rabid animals where I ’ m from?” Marius tilts his head, black hair falling across his forehead. His eyes are pitch black. “ Flay the skin. Salt the flesh. Burn the bones and the ground so when they bury them, nothing grows where they rot.”

Her mask slips as her left eye twitches slightly.

He leans closer. “ But you? For you, I ’ ll start with the tendons behind your knees. Then I ’ ll peel back your skin, inch by inch. Make you watch as I strip you down to muscle and bone.”

Marius's voice is a murmur, menacing in its softness. "I'll keep you alive for days. Weeks, maybe. Long enough for you to beg for death a thousand times over."

Laria's face goes even paler, if that's possible. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out.

"I'll save your eyes for last. I want you to see everything I do to you. And when I finally pluck them out, I'll make sure you're still alive to feel it."

The room is deathly silent. Even I feel a chill at the explicit details of Marius's threat. He straightens up, a chilling smile playing on his lips. "So tell me, Laria. Do you really want to keep talking about Brigid?"

Laria's jaw clenches, but she stays silent. Smart move.

I place a hand on Marius's shoulder. "I think she gets the point."

Marius doesn't move for a long moment, his eyes still locked on Laria. Then he straightens, cracking his neck. "For now."

I scan the faces of the other students, seeing a mix of fear, fascination, and disgust. Good. Let them see what happens when you fuck with our mate.

"Show's over," I announce to the room. "Unless anyone else has something to say about Brigid?"

Silence. Laria's little groupies won't meet my eyes now.

"Didn't think so."

Her little flock scatters, leaving a wake of whispers in their retreat.

I turn to Marius, eyebrow raised. "Bit dramatic, don't you think?"

He shrugs, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Effective, though."

"True enough." I scan the room, noting the mix of fear and fascination on the surrounding faces. Good. Let them be afraid.

I get the sense that every word Marius spoke was no empty threat, either. There ’ s nothing about him that makes me think he wouldn ’ t be capable of everything he described.

As we walk away, the whispers start up again. But this time, they're not about Brigid. They're about us. Let them remember who they're fucking with.

Outside the dining hall, I lean against the wall and exhale. "Thanks."

Marius grunts. "Wasn't for you. It was for her."

I nod.

"How is she?"

I tell him what Tiernan and Rory told me. "I think she ’ s struggling. The Morrigan ’ s still there, but she ’ s keeping her controlled, so far."

"Fuck." He runs a hand through his hair. "And the Council?"

"They're scared of her now. Of what she could become."

"They should be."

I nod, studying Marius. There's an edge to him now, even more of a disturbing darkness that wasn't there before. The Raven King may be gone, but he's left his mark. "We need to figure out our next move. The Council won't stay quiet for long."

Marius's eyes darken. "Let them come. I'll tear them apart."

"It's not that simple," I say, though part of me wishes it was. "We need a plan. Something to keep Brigid safe and deal with the Council at the same time."

He scoffs. "Plans. Politics. That's your game, princeling. I prefer more direct methods."

I bite back a snide remark. Now's not the time. "Your 'direct methods' have their place. But we need strategy, too."

Marius falls silent, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he nods. "Fine. What did you have in mind?"

I glance around, making sure we're alone. "First, we need to consolidate our position. The throne can't sit empty for long."

Understanding dawns in his eyes. "You're going to claim it."

"I don't have a choice," I say, the words tasting bitter. “ If I don't, the Council will.”