Chapter Thirty-Five
Tiernan
The party buzzes around me, a swirl of laughter and fae wine fumes. I stand at the edge, watching. Evergreen garlands drape over the stone walls. Floating spheres of witchlight cast a golden glow over flushed faces. The air hums with relief and wild abandon.
Survivors, all of them.
The Harrowing’s deadly trials are behind us now. Those that didn’t make it aren’t here to care. I breathe in the scent of pine needles and spiced mead, focusing myself.
The turn of the seasons carries deep meaning for a druid, particularly the solstices. Darkness giving way to light. Death yielding to rebirth. An endless cycle, like spiral carvings on ancient oaks.
It’s no coincidence that they time the Harrowing to align with this important event.
My gaze drifts over the revelers. So exuberant and hedonistic. I feel a lifetime removed from their carefree joy.
A tipsy girl stumbles into me, giggling. “Wanna dance, handsome?”
I give her a polite nod. “I’m afraid I don’t dance.” It’s no lie. I don’t dance with anyone but Brigid.
She pouts and wobbles away. I return to my observations, watching the interplay of magic everywhere and the mundane behaviors of horny young adults. Faerie dust sparkles in the air. An illusion charm shimmers around a first year trying to impress his friends.
The events of the past days replay in my mind. Blood spilled on sacred ground. Ancient prophecies stirring. The veil between worlds growing thin.
I roll the acorn I picked up before coming inside between my fingers, feeling its life force. The oak it will become already exists within this tiny seed. Just as our fates are written in the patterns of the stars.
What does it all mean? My meditations offer only fragments. Pieces of a puzzle I can’t yet solve.
A peal of familiar laughter cuts through my musings, going straight to my groin. I look up.
Brigid.
Brigid’s spinning in the center of the dance floor, her long hair fanning out around her. She’s radiant, her gray eyes sparkling as she laughs with Eira and Finn. My chest tightens at the sight of her.
I shouldn’t be watching her like this.
But I can’t look away.
Her gaze flicks to me, a secret smile playing on her lips. Heat floods my body as memories batter me – Brigid’s skin under my hands, her breathy moans, the way she arched against me. How easily she obeyed me.
I shift, adjusting myself discreetly. This is torture. Not being able to be near her, after what she just went through.
“You’re staring,” Rory mutters beside me.
I tear my eyes away from Brigid. “I’m observing.”
“Right,” he snorts. “And your observing eyes are staring.”
I shoot him a look. “Shouldn’t you be stuffing your face with the gingerbread?”
Rory grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nah, I’m good right here.”
We stand in silence for a moment, both pretending we’re not overly aware of Brigid’s every move.
“Gods, I can’t wait until we don’t have to hide this shit anymore,” Rory says, his voice low. “I’m gonna fuck her on every flat surface in the building. Hell, some of the vertical ones, too.”
I nearly choke on the mulled wine I’m drinking. “Rory.”
He grins, unrepentant. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. You want to bend her over right here in front of everyone.”
He’s not wrong.
“It’s honest,” Rory counters. “And hot as fuck. Imagine her spread out on that big oak table in the library, or pressed up against the windows in the astronomy tower.”
The mental images strike me. Brigid, naked and wanting, her pale skin glowing in the starlight. Her legs wrapped around my waist as I drive into her, begging me.
I shift uncomfortably, willing my growing erection away. “You’re not helping,” I growl.
Rory just grins, clearly pleased with himself for getting a reaction out of me. But I don’t miss the tension in his jaw, the tightness around his eyes. He’s hurting too, having to stay away from her. Our mate bond doesn’t like separation.
I turn back to the dance floor, unable to keep my gaze from Brigid. She meets my eyes again, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away.
Gods help me. This girl will be the death of us all.
I tear my gaze away, forcing myself to focus on the other partygoers. Anything to distract me.
A group of fae are doing shots of glowing blue liquid that make their skin sparkle. In the corner, a couple of witches are practically fucking against the wall, oblivious to everyone around them.
Brigid catches my eye again and tilts her head slightly, a silent question. I give an imperceptible nod. She excuses herself from Eira and Finn, heading towards the refreshment table.
“I need a refill,” I mutter to Rory.
He snorts. “Yeah, I bet you do.”
I weave through the crowd, careful not to move too quickly. At the table, I pretend to study the array of drinks while Brigid ladles wine into her cup.
“Having fun?” I ask quietly, staring straight ahead and not looking at her. “You looked... carefree out there.” I risk a quick glance from my peripheral.
Her smile falters. “I’m trying to be. After everything... ”
I ache to pull her into my arms. Instead, I grip my cup tighter. “You’re safe now.”
“Am I?” she whispers.
Before I can respond, Eira is there, standing on Brigid’s other side. “Oh hi, Tiernan.”
I nod in greeting, then leave, making my way back to where Rory is standing. But as I approach, I see he’s got his own problems.
A redhead is pressed against him, her hand on his chest. “Come on, handsome,” she purrs. “One little dance won’t kill you.”
Rory’s jaw is clenched, his entire body rigid. “Thanks, but I’m not interested.”
She pouts, batting her eyelashes. “Don’t be like that. I’ve seen you watching me all night.”
I have to hide my laugh. Rory hasn’t taken his eyes off Brigid since we got here.
“You must be mistaken,” Rory says, his voice strained. He tries to step back, but she follows.
She pouts, pressing closer. “Don’t be such a bore. It’s Solstice!”
Rory’s always been a magnet for female attention, but it’s rare to see him this uncomfortable with it. The bond with Brigid has changed things for all of us.
“Really, I’m flattered, but—” Rory starts, but she cuts him off.
“Let me guess, you have a girlfriend?” She rolls her eyes. “Then where is she? I don’t see her,” she slurs.
He’s too nice to tell her to fuck off, but his patience is wearing thin. “Why don’t you go dance with your friends?”
The girl’s not taking the hint. She leans in, her lips brushing his ear. “I’d rather dance with you. Maybe we could find somewhere more... private after?”
He gives her nothing.
“Playing hard to get? I like that.” She runs her finger down his arm. “I bet I could change your mind.”
Rory’s nostrils flare, and I can see him fighting for control. Now that he has a mate bond with Brigid, his wolf really wouldn’t like unwanted attention from someone who’s not his mate.
I sigh, knowing I need to intervene before Rory loses control. His wolf is close to the surface, hackles raised at this unwanted attention. I focus, reaching out with my senses to the natural world around us.
Tapping into that energy, I weave it together with my own. A whisper of wind rustles through the room, carrying with it the scent of pine and wild herbs. The redhead’s eyes go slightly unfocused.
I push a little more, sending out pulses of calming energy. The girl’s eyelids droop. She yawns, covering her mouth.
“You know,” I say, stepping closer, “It’s very late. I think it’s time to leave.”
She blinks slowly, struggling to focus. “Oh... right. I should... go. I think I need to go to bed.”
The redhead finally leaves, but not before Brigid notices her. I sense her anger before I see her face.
Brigid’s eyes flash dangerously as she watches the redhead stumble away. Her jaw clenches, a muscle ticking. I can practically feel the jealousy radiating off her in waves.
Rory catches her eye and shakes his head minutely. A silent warning.
Brigid takes a deep breath, visibly forcing herself to relax.
I turn away, not wanting to draw more attention. But I keep my senses tuned to Brigid, monitoring her emotional state.
The party rages on around us. Someone enchanted the ceiling to look like a starry winter sky. Snowflakes fall, dissolving before they hit the ground. Under different circumstances, I’d appreciate the beauty of it.
“This is bullshit. Not being able to be with our girl,” Rory growls.
I nod my agreement.
It’s painful not being able to touch her, to let her feel how much we want her.
And I just hope that Callen and Lochan were successful and found something that could tell us what the Council is really up to. The sooner we figure this all out, the sooner we can be together with Brigid.