Chapter Forty-Six
Brigid
I fight to keep my eyes open, but a figure on the sidelines catches my attention. Eira. Her eyes meet mine, and my stomach twists with betrayal.
“ You,” I slur. “ What did you do?”
Eira looks away, unable to meet my eyes any longer. I watch as she wrings her hands.
Why?
My eyes scan around the chamber, searching hopelessly for a certain face. For him. But Marius is nowhere to be seen.
Did he just leave me here, to face whatever the Council has planned? No. He wouldn ’ t. Not after what he told me. The thought gives me hope.
A familiar warmth blooms in my core, spreading through my body like liquid fire. Every nerve ending is suddenly super sensitive. I gasp as an unexpected wave of pleasure crashes over me, my hips arching off the altar. It ’ s the same sensation I felt the last time I was in this chamber, but amplified tenfold. My nipples harden, straining against the fabric of the green covering, and I have to bite my lip to stifle a moan.
The Morrigan ’ s essence seeps into me, filling every cell of my body with dark, seductive power. My skin feels too tight, like I might burst out of it at any moment.
“ Oh, no,” I whimper, my hips rolling of their own accord. The pressure building inside me is almost unbearable, a coiled spring ready to snap. My vision blurs, the chamber ’ s stone walls melting into shadow. Ghostly hands seem to caress my skin, teasing and tormenting. I arch into their touch, craving more.
I ’ m vaguely aware that I should be fighting this, vaguely aware of the fighting that continues in the background. But the pleasure is too much. It takes over. I no longer care that I ’ m surrounded by weirdos in hoods as I squeeze my thighs together.
Then I hear her. It starts as a faraway whisper, too distant to distinguish the words. But it gets closer, and closer.
The Morrigan ’ s voice slides into my mind, silky and seductive. “ Give in, Brigid. Let me take control. Together, we ’ ll be unstoppable.”
I curl my fingers, nails digging into my palms. The pain helps ground me, reminds me of who I am. No.
The Morrigan ’ s laughter echoes in my skull. “ Foolish girl. You can ’ t resist me forever.”
I focus on my breathing, on the pull of those strings around my heart. Anything that can keep me anchored to myself.
The pleasure is still there, threatening to overwhelm me, but I push it back. I imagine building a wall in my mind, brick by brick, keeping the Morrigan ’ s essence at bay.
It ’ s working, but barely. I can feel her clawing at the edges of my consciousness, searching for any weakness. My whole body trembles with the effort of resisting her.
“ You ’ re mine, Brigid,” the Morrigan purrs. “ Your destiny was sealed long ago.”The Morrigan ’ s power pulses through me, a siren song of untold abilities. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to give in.
“ Think of what we could accomplish together,” the Morrigan whispers. “ No one would ever hurt you again. You ’ d be free from fear, from pain.”
My resolve wavers. God, it ’ s tempting. To never feel helpless or vulnerable again...
No. I don ’ t know if I ’ m speaking the word out loud or saying it in my head.
The Morrigan ’ s presence swells, threatening to drown me. “ You ’ re tired of fighting, aren ’ t you, dear? Let go. Let me take care of everything.”
My mental walls crumble. I ’ m so fucking tired. Maybe it wouldn ’ t be so bad to just... rest.
“ That ’ s it,” the Morrigan whispers. “ Just relax.”
I feel myself slipping away, my identity blurring at the edges. Who am I? Why was I fighting so hard?
Then, unbidden, I feel a wall slide into place in my mind, snapping me back to my senses.
“ Get. Out. Of. My. Head.”
The Morrigan makes a sound of frustration. “ You ’ ve had a little divine intervention, haven ’ t you, child? Which one of my old friends has given you this power? Something by way of a potion, I suspect.”
I think of Fiona and the vial of liquid she forced down my throat.
“ Ah,” the Morrigan says, seeing my thoughts. “ Sirona. I should have known. She can’t stop herself from meddling.”
Sirona? The name means nothing to me.
“ No matter, child. Sirona ’ s potion will keep you here, but it won ’ t stop me from taking my vessel.”
I feel a thickness in my limbs. My skin feels like it ’ s made of quicksilver. My body feels like it ’ s being stretched and pulled in a thousand directions at once. I try to scream, but no sound comes out. The Morrigan ’ s essence swirls around me, a dark vortex threatening to swallow me whole.
My back arches off the altar. The pleasure is excruciating now, bordering on pain. My hips buck wildly, seeking friction against nothing but air.
Through the haze of sensation, I catch glimpses of the hooded figures surrounding me. Some are chanting, others just watching with hungry eyes. I should feel exposed, violated. Instead, I ’ m burning up from the inside out, desperate for release.
“ Please,” I whimper, not even sure what I ’ m begging for anymore.
The Morrigan laughs, cruelly. “ Oh, sweet girl. No one ’ s coming to save you. You ’ re mine now.”
I feel my control slipping away, my sense of self fragmenting. Who am I? Brigid? The Morrigan? Both? Neither?
And then she ’ s here. I ’ m still here too, but it ’ s like being in the back seat of a car when someone else is driving.
The Morrigan is in control now.