Chapter 9
Brigid
I dump the contents of the bag I was allowed to bring onto the bed, the meager pile a stark contrast to the opulent room surrounding me. My phone clatters against the polished wood, followed by the soft thump of t-shirts and jeans, and I wonder if it even works here, wherever here is. But I don’t check. Not yet. My sketchbook and pencil bag land last.
”Well, this is depressing," I mutter, eyeing my pitiful belongings. Lochan's stern voice echoes in my head, 'Pack light, you won't need much.' Yeah, no kidding.
I run my fingers over the sketchbook's cover. At least I have this outlet.
The shower beckons, my muscles ache and I just want to stand under some hot water after the day's chaos. I pull off my clothes, dropping my uniform on the floor beside the bed. As I step inside, my mouth drops open. "Holy shit," I whisper, taking in the gleaming gold fixtures, basket of fluffy white towels, and marble countertops.
The shower is a revelation. Hot water cascades over me from a rainfall showerhead that would cost more than my entire wardrobe. Bottles of expensive-looking toiletries line a built-in shelf, their subtle scents mingling in the steam.
"Grimstone Academy doesn't mess around," I say to myself, lathering up with something that smells like sandalwood and secrets. "Wonder what else they're hiding behind these fancy walls?" As the hot water cascades over me, I close my eyes and try to process everything that's happened. The shadows, the attack, arriving here.
I dry off and wrap myself in the softest towel I've ever felt, a A shiver trails along my back. The luxury feels like a gilded cage, and I can't shake the feeling that I'm not really a guest here, no matter how nice the amenities.
I pull on my jeans, bra, and oversized black t-shirt, the familiar clothes almost like a security blanket. As I run a comb through my damp hair, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Same pale face, same guarded gray eyes.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask my reflection. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't answer.
A rap on the door startles me out of my thoughts. I pad over, hesitating before turning the handle. Rory's warm smile greets me, his shaggy blond hair falling over his forehead.
"Ready for supper?" he asks, a crooked grin spreading across his face.
I raise an eyebrow. "Have you been standing out here this whole time?"
He chuckles, a deep sound that reverberates in the hallway. "Maybe. Or maybe I just have impeccable timing."
"Right," I mutter, following him down the corridor. "Because that's not creepy at all."
The dining hall takes my breath away yet again.
The room is massive. Polished mahogany tables stretch across the room, each set with shining silver and porcelain dinnerware. Chandeliers drip crystals from the vaulted ceiling, their light reflected in the countless candelabras dotting the tables. Autumnal arrangements of unusual but beautiful flowers adorn every surface.
"Wow," I whisper, taking in the opulence. "Is this Hogwarts or the Ritz?"
Rory laughs. "Wait till you see the food. That’s the best part.”
As if on cue, waiters in crisp black and white uniforms glide between the tables, carrying silver platters of food that are a feast for the eyes, each dish carefully arranged with vibrant colors and intricate designs. I briefly wonder if they’re magical too, but then I’m distracted by the sight of what they’re serving.
There are plates of steaming vegetables, braided breads, and glistening fruits that look like they were plucked straight from a fairy tale garden. The aroma of roasted meat and exotic spices fills the air, making my stomach growl embarrassingly loud.
"Hungry?" Rory teases.
As we enter, every head turns our way. The chatter dies, replaced by a heavy silence that presses against my skin. I falter, my steps slowing, and I feel my cheeks heating up.
"Hey," Rory says softly, his hand finding the small of my back. "You're okay. They're just curious."
I force myself to keep moving, my face giving away nothing.
Rory leads me to a table where Lochan, Callen, and another man are already seated.
As I sit, I feel eyes boring into me.
Glancing over, I spot a stunning blonde girl glaring daggers at me from a nearby table. Her perfect features twist with contempt. She reminds me of Stacy—if Stacy were a supermodel.
Rory follows my gaze. “Don’t worry about Laria. She’s territorial.” His voice is pointedly loud, and he grins when the girl’s eyes narrow. “Right, Laria?”
Great. I’ve been here less than a day, and someone already hates me. Someone other than Lochan, that is.
"Well, well, if it isn't our delectable new arrival." Callen says.
His words send a fresh wave of heat to my face. I duck my head. I feel like my cheeks will be permanently scarlet around Callen.
The thought barely forms before the quiet guy across from me mutters, "Don't give him any ideas."
I blink, startled. "Did you just—"
"Read your mind?" He winces, looking genuinely apologetic. "Sorry. I try not to, but sometimes thoughts... leak."
Rory clears his throat. "Brigid, this is Tiernan. He's a druid."
"A what, now?" I ask.
Tiernan’s light green eyes meet mine briefly before darting away. As expected, he’s preternaturally gorgeous, just like the others. His hair is longer, a light brown, and his face is serious, but not stern like Lochan’s is. More studious.
"Druids have certain... abilities," Tiernan explains softly. "Including telepathy."
I realize I’m still staring at Tiernan.
He's just so undeniably attractive, like everyone else in this place. I'd give anything to see someone ordinary in this place. A twinge of self-consciousness hits me as I realize I'm probably the most ordinary-looking person in the room.
A loud scraping noise makes me jump. Lochan, who has been glowering silently since we walked in, shoves his chair back, his mouth twisted. Without a word, he stalks away from the table, leaving his food untouched.
“What is his problem?" I mutter, watching him leave the hall.
Callen leans in, his light, pale blue eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "Don't worry your pretty little head about Lochan, darling. He's just a grumpy, old bear who hasn't had any honey for a long time."
I snort, caught off guard by the ridiculous analogy. "Does he always act like someone pissed in his cheerios?" Or is it just me .
"Only on days ending in 'y'," Callen quips, his full lips curving into a brazen smile. "But why focus on him when there are far more interesting people at this table?" He leans back and bites into an apple. "Namely, me."
I roll my eyes, but can't quite hide my smile. "Does that line actually work on anyone?"
Tiernan clears his throat softly, drawing my attention. He leans forward, his soft voice cutting through Callen's laughter. "So, Brigid, how did you come to the academy's attention?” His eyes are inquisitive, curious. I feel like I’m being studied.
I freeze, my fork halfway to my mouth. Setting it down, I meet his curious gaze. The events of the evening swirl in my mind, a scrambled mess I'm still trying to sort out. "I... I don't really know myself," I admit.
The silver cutlery clinks against fine china as I push my food around, trying to find the right words. "There were these shadows," I begin, my heart rate picking up at the memory. "They seemed to come from me, and they made me feel strong, but that's impossible, right?" I look up, searching their faces for answers. "And then the attack..."
My voice trails off as I watch Rory, Callen, and Tiernan exchange a weighted look. It's quick, barely a glance of their eyes, but I see it.
"What was that?" I demand, my gaze zeroing in on Callen. "That look. What do you know that you're not telling me?"
Callen's smile is easy, but his eyes are guarded. "Look, darling? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. We're all just concerned about your well-being after such an eventful evening. It's not every day someone manifests such intriguing abilities."
His words are smooth, carefully crafted to reveal nothing while sounding like an answer. My fingers clench around my fork.
Rory leans forward, his warm brown eyes softening. "Brigid, you've had a really long day. All of this," he gestures vaguely, "it's a lot to process. It might be better to discuss everything with Dean Charling tomorrow when you meet with him."
I open my mouth to argue, but exhaustion suddenly hits me like a tidal wave. My shoulders slump. "Fine,"
Callen's eyes light up. "Speaking of tomorrow, I happen to be free. It would be my absolute pleasure to escort you to Dean Charling." His lips curl into a seductive smile that makes my heart skip a beat. "And afterward, I could give you a private tour of the academy. Show you all the secret hiding spots, the best places for a little intimate exploration."
My face blazes, heat rushing from my neck to the tips of my ears. I can't bring myself to look at any of them, suddenly finding the intricate patterns on my plate fascinating.
"Callen," Tiernan warns.
I glance up, surprised by the soft-spoken druid's intervention. Callen, however, seems unbothered.
"Oh, come now, tree hugger," Callen retorts with a smirk. "Just because you prefer the company of squirrels and mushrooms doesn't mean the rest of us can't have a little fun. Or is it that you're jealous I offered first?"
Before Tiernan can respond, another yawn escapes me, and I suddenly feel like I can’t keep my eyes open.
Rory notices immediately. "I think it's time we get Brigid to bed," he says.
"Excellent idea," Callen agrees, his eyes gleaming. "I'd be happy to keep you company, darling. I promise you, I'd be the best you've ever had."
I can't help it. "That's not exactly a high bar," I mutter before I can stop myself.
Rory's eyebrow shoots up, and I swear I see Tiernan blush.
We stand, preparing to leave, when the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Someone's watching me.
I turn, my attention drawn to a figure leaning against the far wall. He's all sharp angles and darkness—black hair, black eyes, pale skin stretched over high cheekbones. His lean, muscular frame is clad entirely in black, making him look like a shadow come to life.
Our eyes lock, and a chill runs through me. There's something... hungry in his gaze.
I blink, and he's gone, leaving me to wonder if my exhausted mind is playing tricks on me.
"Brigid?" Rory's voice pulls me back. "Everything okay?"
I shake my head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, I just.... It's nothing.”