Chapter 34
Lochan
My eyes lock onto Brigid as she stands in the center of the training area, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Sweat glistens on her pale skin, dark hair plastered to her forehead. I circle her slowly, muscles coiled tight, ready to strike.
"Again," I bark, jaw clenched. Neither of us wants to be here, but we don’t have a choice.
I watch as Brigid readies herself for another round, her stubbornness evident in the set of her jaw.
She’ll need it.
The Council has given me a deadline to train her to control her magic and if she doesn't learn to reign in her powers before then, they'll dispose of her without hesitation. The Council does not fuck around when it comes to things like this. They keep us safe, even from ourselves.
I would have refused their order, but I like living.
"Again," I repeat.
Brigid lunges at me with her hand outstretched, shadows extending from her fingers, and I dodge, my hand instinctively reaching for my blade.
"Focus!" I snap, as she falls hard to the ground, breathing heavily.
”I am focusing," she retorts defensively, frustration clear in her voice.
“You should be using your magic, not your physical strength—or lack thereof.”
“Shouldn’t I be learning how to use both?”
"Get your priorities straight, Brigid.” I can’t keep the sneer from my face. “Because if you can't control your powers during a fight, you risk hurting innocent people," I remind her harshly. "Is that what you want?"
Brigid falls silent. Her eyes narrow, a flicker of defiance sparking in those stormy gray depths. "I need a minute."
"Your enemies won't give you a minute." I lunge forward, fist aimed at her face.
She jerks back, barely dodging the blow. Her movements are clumsy, uncoordinated.
I press my advantage, raining down a flurry of strikes. Jab. Cross. Hook. Each one precise, calculated. It might not seem like it to her but I’m holding back, barely using any force at all.
Brigid stumbles backwards, arms raised in a pitiful attempt to block. Dark tendrils of shadow lick at her fingertips, wisps of inky blackness curling around her arms.
"Use it," I snap. "Don't let it control you."
Her face contorts, brow furrowed in concentration. The shadows recede, but I can still feel the pulsing undercurrent of wild, untamed power.
I sweep her legs out from under her, sending her crashing down. She lands with a dull thud, the air rushing from her lungs.
"Pathetic," I snarl, looming over her. "Is this the best you can do?"
Something dangerous flashes in her eyes. For a split second, I swear those gray eyes turn pitch black.
Before I can react, tendrils of shadow explode outwards, slamming into my chest. I'm thrown backwards, skidding across the floor. I feel something wrap itself around my throat.
I reach for it with my mind and feel a surge of satisfaction as the dark tendrils disintegrate under my control. I inhale oxygen as Brigid's shadow evaporates into nothingness.
I spring to my feet, adrenaline pumping. Brigid's on her knees, panting, shadows writhing around her like living smoke. Her eyes are wide, terrified.
"I... I didn't mean to—"
"Shut up," I growl, stalking towards her. "Get up. Now."
She stumbles upright, shaking. The shadows cling to her, restless, hungry. It sets my teeth on edge.
"Again," I command, falling into a fighting stance. "And this time, control your fucking magic."
Brigid swallows hard, raising her trembling hands. "I'm trying, I swear."
"Try harder."
I launch into another series of attacks, each one designed to push her to her limits. She's sloppy, unfocused. The shadows flare with each near miss, growing darker, more substantial.
"Pathetic," I repeat. "You're a liability. A danger to everyone around you."
The room plunges into darkness, shadows surging around us like a tornado. I can barely make out Brigid's silhouette.
Fuck .
The darkness presses in, thick and suffocating. I struggle to orient myself. Shadows writhe around me, grasping, clawing. This is not good.
"Brigid!" I bellow. "Get control of yourself!"
A length of shadow lashes out, slicing across my cheek. Fury ignites in my chest, along with a primal fear I haven't felt since I was a child.
"Enough!" I roar, summoning every ounce of authority I possess. "Rein it in, now!"
For a heartbeat, nothing changes. Then I hear it—a choked sob cutting through the chaos. The shadows falter, recoiling slightly.
"I can't," Brigid's voice is barely a whisper, thick with terror. "Lochan, I can't stop it."
I move on instinct, fighting through the writhing darkness until I find her. My hands close around her shoulders, anchoring her.
"Yes, you can," I growl, my face inches from hers. "Focus on me. Only me."
Her eyes lock onto mine, wide and desperate. I feel the shadows pulse around us, hungry, eager to consume. But I don't look away.
"That's it," I say. "You've got this. Pull it back in."
The darkness recedes, inch by excruciating inch. Brigid's body trembles beneath my hands, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I don't dare let go.
"Keep breathing," I murmur. "Nice and slow."
Her eyes never leave mine as the last tendrils of shadow reluctantly retreat. The sudden brightness of the training area is almost painful. I blink, taking in the damage. Scorch marks mar the ground, equipment lies scattered and broken. It’s bad.
Brigid stumbles back, breaking our connection. Her face is ashen, eyes wild with fear and shame.
"I'm sorry," she chokes out. "I didn't mean to—"
"Stop." My voice is harsher than I intend. I take a breath, trying to quell the storm of emotions raging inside me. "This... this is exactly why you can’t be trusted."
She flinches as if I've struck her. Good. Maybe fear will keep her in line where reason has failed.
"You can't control it," I continue, gesturing at the wreckage surrounding us. "Your magic is too volatile, too dangerous. How can we trust you when you can't even trust yourself?"
Brigid's shoulders slump, defeat etched in every line of her body. For a moment, I feel a flicker of... something. Pity? Regret? I push it down ruthlessly. There's no room for softness here.
"I'm trying," she whispers.
"Trying isn't good enough," I snap. "Not when lives are at stake."
I watch as Brigid turns and flees. I'm left alone with the aftermath of her mess.
Fuck the Council .
I run a hand through my hair and I have the urge to follow her, to... what? Comfort her? Break her? I don't know. It gnaws at me, an itch I can't scratch.
"Get it together," I mutter, pacing.
My boots crunch over splintered wood. If the Council sees this…
But it's not the destruction that truly unsettles me. It's the raw power behind it. Brigid's magic... I've never seen anything like it. I’ve never heard of anything like it. Not since him .
I think about the misery I just saw in her eyes.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thought. I can't afford to let my guard down when it comes to Brigid.
And yet...
For a moment, I saw past the threat I know she is, to the scared girl beneath.
"Damn it," I growl, cracking my knuckles.
I can't let her get to me. My duty is clear. I have to report this incident, recommend her removal from the program, and perhaps more than that. It's the only way to keep everyone safe.
So why does the thought leave such a bitter taste in my mouth?