Page 23 of Awakened Destiny (The Dark Ascendant #3)
Brigid
It doesn ’ t take much for my thoughts to drift. They always do, even when I don ’ t want them to. There ’ s a shadow in my mind that never fully leaves, lingering at the edges of my awareness. The Morrigan. Her name isn ’ t spoken here, not aloud, but I can feel her presence, always. She ’ s quieter now, less oppressive since I fought to reclaim myself, but she ’ s still there. Watching. Waiting.
"Brigid?" Callen ’ s voice pulls me back before I sink too far. He ’ s leaning toward me, one brow raised in question. "You ’ re zoning out again. Thinking about how devastatingly handsome I look today?"
"Hardly," I say, rolling my eyes. But I smile, because that ’ s what Callen does—he makes me smile. He grounds me, keeps me tethered when I start to drift. They all do, in their own ways. Even Marius, though his version of comfort is more... complicated.
"She ’ s probably planning her escape," Rory teases, nudging my shoulder with his. "Can ’ t blame her, being stuck with us."
"Maybe she likes being stuck with us," Lochan counters, surprising me. He ’ s not usually the type to weigh in on these conversations, but there ’ s a calm certainty in his words that makes something in my chest tighten.
"Maybe," I admit quietly, focusing on my plate rather than the faces watching me. It ’ s easier to say things like that when I ’ m not looking at them.
Their laughter picks up again, light and easy, and I try to stay present, to hold on to this fleeting sense of normalcy. It ’ s fragile, like glass that could shatter under the slightest pressure.
Marius shifts. He ’ s not laughing with the others. "Something on your mind?" he asks, low so only I hear it.
"Nothing important," I say, matching his tone, but there ’ s a hesitation in my voice that betrays me. He doesn ’ t miss it.
"Sure about that?"
"Positive," I insist, though my fingers tighten around the edge of the table. For some reason, lying to him feels like a waste of effort. Maybe because he doesn ’ t believe me, anyway.
"Fine," he says after a beat, leaning back and letting his attention drift to Rory ’ s latest ridiculous story. But before he fully disengages, his hand brushes against mine under the table, just barely, just enough to send a ripple through my chest.
I glance at him, but he ’ s already acting like nothing happened. The bond between us hums quietly.
I take a breath, forcing myself to focus on the laughter. It ’ s easier now to settle back into the rhythm of the group, to let their voices and easy camaraderie act as a buffer against the dirty looks and vicious whispers.
The meal drags on, and for a while, things almost feel normal. Callen tosses another joke my way, Tiernan throws in something surprisingly funny, Lochan adds a rare but welcome comment, and Rory ’ s over-the-top antics keep everyone grinning. Even Marius joins in here and there, his sarcasm sharp but oddly fitting.
It ’ s good. It ’ s safe. Or at least, it feels that way until the sensation hits me.
It starts as a faint throb, deep in my chest, then spreads outward like a gasoline-fueled firestorm. Heat rushes through me, tingling down every nerve, every vein, until I have to grip the edge of the chair to steady myself.
"Brigid?" Lochan notices first, his brow furrowing.
"Fine," I manage, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Just tired."
He doesn ’ t look convinced, but I don ’ t give him a chance to press. I drop my gaze to my lap, focusing on regulating my breathing, on tamping down whatever this is.
It ’ s power—there ’ s no mistaking that—but it ’ s unlike anything I ’ ve felt before. Not the shadow magic that coils in me like a serpent, waiting to strike. This is much bigger. And it is scaring the hell out of me.
I don ’ t tell them. Instead, I push the feeling down, bury it deep, pushing it as far back inside as I can. I push through the cold heat, the tingling, forcing myself to swallow it like acid. Whatever this is, now's not the time to deal with it. Not here. Not in front of them, or in front of the whole school. I force my hand to relax on the chair and focus on what ’ s right in front of me—my mates, their laughter, the way Rory ’ s grinning like he ’ s said the funniest thing in the world.
"Brigid," Callen says, leaning closer. His voice carries that teasing edge he knows always pulls me back. "You ’ re awfully quiet. Reminiscing about earlier?" He teases.
"Not a chance," I say, my lips curving up despite myself. It ’ s automatic, the banter slipping into place like armor. "But keep dreaming, Callen."
"Ah, there she is," Rory cuts in, throwing an arm over Tiernan ’ s shoulder like he ’ s ready to make a grand announcement. "I was worried for a second. Thought maybe Lochan had bored you to death."
"Rory," Lochan says flatly. "Keep talking, and I ’ ll show you exactly how boring I can be."
Marius catches my eye across the table. He doesn ’ t laugh, but there ’ s a knowing look, something that tells me he noticed my earlier slip. But he doesn ’ t call me out, doesn ’ t press. Instead, he gives a small nod, and I return it, grateful for his silence.
"Alright," I say, cutting into whatever nonsense Rory ’ s spouting now. "Enough about Lochan. Someone pass me the bread before Rory eats it all."
"Too late," Rory says, crumbs scattered across his plate like evidence of a crime.
"Unbelievable," I mutter, shaking my head.
The fiery energy still hums faintly beneath my skin, a reminder that it hasn ’ t gone anywhere. That it ’ s waiting. But for now, I shove it aside and focus on getting through dinner.