Page 43 of Awakened Destiny (The Dark Ascendant #3)

Brigid

The flash comes fast, too fast. Laria's fist connects with my face, and I feel bone grind against bone. My head snaps back as my body flies across the room, crashing into the wall.

"You think you're special, Brigid?" Laria's voice distorts, deeper than before, twisted by the forbidden magic coursing through her. Black veins pulse beneath her skin, spreading like poison from her heart outward. "You ’ ve taken what wasn't yours. A crown that should have been mine."

I taste blood on my tongue as I push myself up. My vision swims, but I see her approaching, her movements jerky, unnatural. Her eyes now glow an unnatural crimson, thin black webs spidering across their whites, and her skin seems stretched too tight across her bones.

"You did something stupid and dangerous, Laria." I spit blood onto the floor.

She lunges again, inhumanly fast. Her nails have elongated into claws that tear through my shirt, raking my skin. I feel flesh open, warmth spilling down my side.

"Shut up!" she screams, spittle flying from her lips. "I'm stronger than you. I've always been stronger!"

I roll away as she stomps where my head was a second ago, the stone cracking under her foot. The vampire's movements are wild, unpredictable, she's fighting like someone possessed.

"The blood gives me everything," she snarls, grabbing the lead bar from the shattered window and hurling it at me. I duck, and it hits against the wall.

Inside me, I feel the Morrigan stirring. A cold, familiar presence rising like dark water.

Let me out, she whispers in my mind. Let me tear her apart.

My fingers tremble as I block Laria's next blow, the impact numbing my forearm. Her strength is unnatural.

Laria grabs my throat, lifting me off the ground. Her grip tightens, crushing my windpipe. "I've been waiting to see fear in your eyes."

The darkness inside me throbs and begs to be let out fully. It ’ s hungry.

But I've seen what happens when I give in completely.

I kick hard at Laria's knee, hearing a satisfying crack. She howls but doesn't release me.

"You're dying," I choke out, clawing at her wrist. "Can't you feel it? That magic is consuming you from inside."

For just a moment, uncertainty flickers across her face. The blackened veins have spread to her neck, her face. Her skin has begun to crack, revealing darkness beneath.

"Liar!" she howls, throwing me across the room.

I land hard, feeling something inside give way. Pain lances through me with each breath. Laria stalks forward, summoning a ball of corrupted magic.

I could kill her now. The Morrigan's immense power is simmering through me. I could end this before she hurts anyone else.

But there's another way. I see it in the threads, the path I couldn't see before.

I stand, shaky. Blood trickles down my temple, but I don't wipe it away.

"Laria, stop. It's not too late." I hold up my hands, palms forward. "I can help you contain this before it destroys you."

She hesitates, the magic in her hands flickering. "You're afraid of me. You should be."

"I'm afraid for you." I take a cautious step forward. "The blood magic is killing you."

"You'd love that," she spits.

"Look at your hands," I say softly.

Laria glances down. The blackness has spread to her fingertips, skin splitting along her knuckles. Her eyes widen, fear replacing rage.

"What's happening to me?"

"Let me help you," I urge, reaching out. "We can stop this."

Laria would never show me mercy.

But I ’ m not her.

Laria's expression hardens again, the moment of vulnerability gone. "No," she says, gathering the corrupted magic into her. "I'd rather die."

I have seconds to decide. Do I use the Morrigan's full power and destroy her completely, or try once more to save someone determined to kill me.

What a choice to have to make.

Heavy footsteps pound across the stone floor. Familiar energy signatures wrap around me before I even turn to look.

"Brigid!" Rory's voice breaks through my concentration, wild with panic.

My mates burst into the hallway with Eira trailing behind them, their faces twisted with horror at the scene before them. Lochan's eyes flare with primal fury. Rory has shifted partially, claws extended and ready.

"Get the fuck away from her," Marius growls at Laria.

Tiernan says nothing, but the temperature in the corridor drops several degrees. His rage is a tangible thing, cold and deadly as a winter storm.

I turn my back on Laria, probably a stupid, and face them, hands outstretched.

"Stay back. All of you."

Hurt flashes across their faces. They want to protect me. They don't understand that I'm protecting them.

"She's too dangerous," Lochan argues, taking another step forward. "Eira told us about the blood magic."

"I know what she's done." I keep my voice steady despite the thrumming power of the Morrigan coursing through me. "And I'll handle it. My way."

Eira moves forward. "Brigid, you don't have to face this alone."

The irony isn't lost on me. After her betrayal, she's worried about my safety?

"The ritual she performed," Marius says, his eyes fixed on Laria over my shoulder. "It's unstable. I can feel the corruption."

"That's why you need to stay back." My hands begin to tremble, not from fear but from the effort of containing the Morrigan's power, while keeping my focus on my mates. "If she loses control completely, I'm the only one who can contain the backlash."

I feel Laria shifting behind me, her breathing becoming more ragged, more desperate.

"But—" Callen starts.

"No." I cut him off. The shadows at my feet grow darker, responding to my emotions. "Trust me. Please."

That's what this comes down to in the end. Trust. After everything we've been through, I need them to believe in me.

"If you get yourself killed," Rory says, his voice rough with emotion, "I'll never forgive you."

"Neither will I," I reply. "Now back up. All of you."

They retreat reluctantly, but their postures remain tense, ready to launch forward at the first sign I'm losing control of the situation.

I turn back to Laria, whose skin has begun to crack like old pottery, black veins visible beneath the surface. Her eyes dart between me and my mates, calculating her odds.

Power gathers in my hands. Not the wild, destructive force Laria wielded, but something older. Deeper. The Morrigan's true gift. Not just destruction, but the power to choose when to wield it.

And when to withhold it.

I force my power down and take a single step toward Laria, my hands open at my sides, vulnerable, but deliberate.

"It's not too late, Laria," I say, my voice low but clear in the sudden quiet. "The ritual is consuming you. I can see it happening. You don't have to die for this."

Laria's laugh is brittle. She sways slightly, her body fighting against the unstable magic ravaging her from within.

I take another step forward. Blood drips from a cut above my eye, but I ignore it. "End this now. Let me help you contain the ritual's effects before it tears you apart."

I continue, risking more truth than I'd planned. "I know what it's like to be dismissed and overlooked. But this—" I gesture to her deteriorating form, "—this isn't power. It's self-destruction."

The shadows around us beat in time with my heart. My consciousness skims the edge of the Morrigan's magic, where I could draw enough power to end this instantly. But I hold back.

"You're pathetic," Laria spits, black fluid leaking from the corner of her mouth. "You have everything. Power you don't deserve, men who'd die for you. And you are still weak." She struggles to stand straight, her body contorting as the festering magic fights against her. "What do I have? Nothing! You appeared from nowhere and took what should have been mine!"

Her rage is a palpable thing. The ritual has amplified her emotions along with her power, turning her jealousy and bitterness into something monstrous.

"It doesn't have to end like this," I say, willing her to hear me through her rage and instability. "We both walk away. No one else dies today."

Laria's face twists into a grimace that might have been a smile. Her eyes now swim with black fluid.

"Death is coming for one of us," she hisses. "And it won't be me." Laria's muscles bunch under her skin, which has begun to split in hairline fractures across her exposed arms. The air is permeated with unstable magic, something corrupted and fetid.

I center my weight, preparing for the attack I know is coming.

"Last chance," I warn.