Chapter 19
Brigid
"Come on, love, show me what you've got!" Rory says, his playful baritone carrying down the field. Sweat trickles down my back, soaking the shirt I've had on under my discarded jacket despite the autumn chill in the air.
I feign a jab to his left, then duck and strike at his right knee, but he's already there, taking hold of my wrist in his warm grip. "That's better. But you need to commit, Bri. Don't let them see your moves coming."
I glare at him, cheeks flushing. I know he's right. Tiernan's meditative approach feels like another lifetime ago. Here, with Rory, it's all about instinct and power. The two of them have taken it upon themselves to tutor me every day after classes.
He grins, and it makes my insides feel like they’re dropping right to my feet. Rory is built like a Greek god and his smile has more star power than any Hollywood actor. I wonder what it'd be like to feel those strong arms around me, holding me close. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. No, Brigid. Bad. You have enough to worry about.
"Let's try it again, and this time, mean it, yeah?" Rory's accent lends his words an almost musical quality, which only adds to his charm. I square my shoulders, inhaling the scent of whiskey and pine that clings to him.
"Fine, but don't blame me if I accidentally deck you one." I joke, trying to hide the butterflies in my stomach.
Rory laughs, the sound like liquid gold. "Oh, lovely, I've faced worse. Now, come at me."
I take a deep breath, channeling my frustration and desire into my next move. This time, I don't hold back, aiming a kick at his chest. He snags my foot in his hands and holds me there a beat too long before allowing my leg to return to the ground.
"Damn, Brigid, you've got some power there." He smirks, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Tap into that, and you'll do grand in the Harrowing."
I blush and look away, tucking a stray strand of damp hair behind my ear. "Thanks, Rory.”
“Now, try and come at me again, love.”
I do as he says and launch into what I think is a pretty sophisticated set of moves that he obviously sees coming a mile away, going by the way he’s trying to hold back his laughter.
“You're no good at faking, do you know that?” he says, smirking.
“Shut up, Rory.”
I raise my fist, determined to land at least one punch, when my foot trips on the air, or a blade of grass, or something equally ridiculous, and I'm tumbling forward—
Right into Rory's powerful arms.
His scent envelops me immediately. My breasts are pressed against his hard chest, my heart hammering. His warmth makes me feel like I’m being held against a blazing inferno, and for a moment, I don't want him to let go.
We stare at each other for what feels like eternity, what little space is between us charged with electricity. My nipples harden against the fabric of my shirt, and I'm sure he can feel my arousal. I'm about to apologize and pull away when Rory's face lowers to mine.
Our lips meet in an urgent, desperate kiss. His tongue slides past my lips, claiming mine. One of his large, calloused hands palms my ass, pulling me even closer to him, while his other hand roams up my shirt, finding its way to my breast. He cups my swollen nipple through the thin fabric of my bra and shirt, sending shivers.
My body melts into his as his mouth moves down my jawline, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses along my neck. My mind screams at me to stop, to regain control, but my body has a mind of its own, arching into him, begging for more.
Just when I think I can't take it anymore, Rory stops, his forehead pressed against mine, both of us panting for air.
“Brigid...” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
I can feel my heart thudding. I should push him away, but all I can manage to do is to thread my fingers through his shaggy blond hair, pulling him back down for another kiss.
Rory doesn't hesitate, claiming my mouth once more, his tongue tangling with mine, our bodies pressed together, the heat between us almost unbearable.
Lost in the moment, I moan, a sound I didn't know was possible, a deep, primal sound that surprises even me.
Suddenly, my mind kicks into gear, and reality comes crashing down around me.
I'm in the middle of a public area, in broad daylight, with Rory's hands up my shirt, where anyone could see us. Old taunts come back to me. Slut .
I pull away from Rory, my cheeks on fire, and scramble to adjust my shirt, trying to regain some semblance of modesty.
“I... I should...” I stammer, panic creeping into my voice.
Rory's eyes are dark with desire, but there's also a hint of confusion in them as he adjusts his obvious erection.
“Brigid, I'm sorry if I overstepped...”
“No, it's fine. I mean, no, I mean, it's not fine, but it's...” I trail off, my cheeks flushing even more. I’m aware that things are different here than what I’m used to—romantically speaking. I’ve already seen a few throuples making out in public, and a couple of the girls have packs of four or five guys always around them. But…
I grab my jacket and I rush off, mumbling a quick thank you for the session. I glance back once and see Rory scratching his head, looking bewildered.
As I make my way up the walk that leads back inside the building, my cheeks are on fire. I can’t believe what I just did. What I’ve been doing with Callen. That’s not me. Even as I think it, another voice in the back of my mind says — why can’t it be? I don’t understand any of this. It’s like I’m not the one in control anymore.
I push through the heavy door to the academy, the cool air inside a stark contrast to the heat of my flushed skin.
A silky voice cuts through my tumultuous thoughts. "Well, well. Quite the training session, wasn't it?"
I whirl around to find Marius leaning against a stone pillar, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. My heart rate, which had just begun to slow, picks up again. I haven’t seen him since that first class.
"What do you want?" I try to hide my unease.
He pushes off the pillar with a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it movement that makes my mouth go dry. I realize I don’t know what he ‘is’. He could be a vampire like Laria, or a fae like Callen and Lochan. “Oh, I think the question is, what do you want, Brigid? Or rather, what are you capable of wanting?"
I take an involuntary step back. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Marius moves closer, his voice dropping. "You have no idea of the power that lies dormant within you. The things you could do, if only you knew..."
My skin prickles. What does he know about my magic? About me?
"Cut the cryptic bullshit," I say, even as a part of me leans in, desperate to hear more.
“Your origin is far more than you realize."
I open my mouth to demand answers, but Marius' gaze flicks over my shoulder. His expression shifts, almost imperceptibly.
"Until next time, little bird," he murmurs, then turns and vanishes down a shadowy corridor.
I spin around to see what caught his attention and spot Lochan rounding the corner. My mind races. Did Marius leave because of him? What the hell is going on?
As Lochan approaches, his hazel eyes narrowed and glaring at me—because what else is new—I’m left with nothing but frustration and a gnawing hunger for answers that slip further from my grasp with each passing moment.