Chapter 36
Callen
Blood rushes in my ears as I stalk across the grounds, rage burning through my veins.
That bitch Laria. I'll fucking eviscerate her for this.
I know she had something to do with what happened at the assembly. I'd warned her to stay away, but of course she couldn't resist. I take a deep breath, forcing the anger down. Deal with Laria later. Right now, I need to find Brigid.
I search the grounds before finding her in the greenhouse, seeking comfort among the plants. Just like at her cottage. Just like Tiernan.
I pause in the doorway, struck by the sight of her. Brigid stands alone amidst the lush and verdant flora, her dark hair cascading down her back as she leans over a glowing flower. Her fingers brush gently over iridescent petals, her touch gentle and soft.
Something twists in my chest. I'm drawn to her like a moth to flame, helpless to resist. Before I realize it, I'm moving closer, drinking in every detail. The curve of her neck as she bends. The way light plays across her face. The gentle strength in her hands as she tends the delicate plant.
Brigid doesn't notice me, lost in her own world.
I clear my throat softly. "Brigid."
She stiffens, whirling to face me. In an instant, her relaxed expression is replaced by wariness. Her eyes narrow as she takes me in.
"Callen." Her voice is cool, guarded. "What do you want?"
I open my mouth, but the words stick in my throat. How do I even begin to explain?
I take a hesitant step forward, my usual confidence absent. Gods, why is this so hard ?
"I, uh..." I brush the hair back from my face, searching for the right words. "Look, about the other night..."
Brigid crosses her arms, her posture screaming 'stay back'. "Yes? About the other night when you tricked me?"
Her words hit like a punch to the gut. I deserve that.
"Fair point," I concede, offering a self-deprecating smile. "I'm not usually the apologizing type, but I suppose there's a first time for everything."
Brigid's eyebrow arches skeptically. "Is that what this is? An apology? Am I supposed to be impressed?”
I can't help but chuckle. "Caught that, did you? Clever girl."
Her eyes flash dangerously. "I'm not in the mood for games, Callen. Say what you came to say or leave me be."
The tension between us is palpable. Part of me wants to push, to see how far I can take this before she snaps. But another part, a part I'm not entirely comfortable with, wants to soothe the hurt I see lurking behind her steely gaze.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "You're right. No more games. I came to—well, to make things right."
I watch Brigid's face carefully, searching for any sign that my words are getting through. Her expression remains guarded, but there's a glimmer of something in her eyes. Curiosity? Hope? Fuck if I know.
"I'm sorry," I say, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. "For breaking your trust."
As the apology leaves my lips, I'm struck by an odd sensation. It's like a weight lifting off my chest, but also a vulnerability I'm not used to. I find myself fighting back a half-smile at the novelty of it all. Who knew sincerity could be so refreshing?
Brigid's stance softens slightly, her arms uncrossing. "Why should I believe you?"
I step closer, my voice dropping. "Because, darling, I'm as surprised by this as you are. I don't do apologies. I don't do... “ I gesture between us, “whatever the fuck this is."
"But with you, I find myself wanting to be... different? More? I don't know. It's infuriating and irresistible all at once."
Brigid's eyes widen, a mix of emotions playing across her face. I can see the struggle within her—the desire to trust fighting it out with the instinct to protect herself. It's a battle I know well.
"You confuse me," I admit, surprising myself with my honesty. "You make me feel more like myself than I have in ages, and yet, entirely new at the same time. It's fucking terrifying."
Suddenly, the air around us pulses with an intense energy that I can feel. The plants in the greenhouse erupt into chaotic life—vines climb up the walls, flowers burst open in frenzied blooms, and everything is an explosion of rich color and perfume.
"Shit!" I leap into action, my hands outstretched as I use my magic to contain the surging growth. The plants resist, pulsing with a wild, primal energy that feels familiar. It's not just magic. It's emotion—raw and uncontrolled.
Sweat beads on my brow as I wrestle with a particularly aggressive vine. "A little help here, Brigid?"
She snaps out of her shock, her hands moving in fluid gestures. Shadows dance at her fingertips, weaving between the plants, calming their frenzy. We work in tandem, our magics intertwining in a way that electrifies me.
As the last flower folds back into its normal shape and size, we both collapse against a nearby table, breathing heavily. The greenhouse is a mess of tangled vines and scattered petals, but at least it's no longer trying to eat us.
I turn to Brigid, a wry smile on my face. "Well, that was interesting."
She pushes a strand of hair from her face, her eyes meeting mine. "You can't blame that one on me."
I laugh, surprised at how genuine and unguarded it is. "No, I suppose I can't.
Her cheeks flush slightly, and I feel a rush of satisfaction. I brush a stray leaf from my shoulder, eyeing Brigid carefully. The air between us feels charged, fragile. I need to tread lightly.
"So," I begin, aiming for cool, but probably missing by a mile. "How's the training with Lochan going? He wouldn't tell me anything. Just stomped off to his room and slammed the door. Typical Lochan, really."
Brigid's eyes dart away, her fingers idly running along the edge of a shelf.
Fuck. I hope I haven't completely screwed this up. The thought of her never trusting me again makes my stomach churn in a way I'm not used to. Since when do I care so much about what some mortal girl thinks of me?
"It's... complicated," Brigid finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. She looks up at me, and the vulnerability in her eyes hits me like a sucker punch.
She bites her lip, and I force myself not to stare. "Callen, I—"
The words seem to stick in her throat, and I can see the struggle behind those stormy gray eyes. Part of me wants to pry the secrets from her lips. But another part—a part I barely recognize—wants to give her the time and space she needs.
I'm so fucked. I lean against a nearby table, trying to appear casual. "Complicated, huh? I'm familiar with complicated. Hell, I practically invented it."
A ghost of a smile crosses her face, but it's gone in an instant. She turns back to the plants, her fingers gently touching a vibrant purple leaf.
"There’s something I do think I should tell you," she murmurs, so softly I almost miss it. "But I— I don't know."
The words sting more than they should. I've manipulated countless people over the years, played them like fiddles for my own gain. So why does this mortal girl's distrust feel like a knife to the gut?
"Fair enough," I say, forcing a casual shrug. "I haven't exactly given you much reason to, have I?"
Brigid's eyes meet mine, searching. There's a scrutiny to her gaze, like she's trying to peer into my soul. Good luck with that, darling. I'm not sure I even have one anymore.
"There's—" she starts, then stops, shaking her head. "It's dangerous, Callen. And I don't just mean for me."
My curiosity piques, warring with an urge to protect her, not the kind of impulse I often have. "Brigid, whatever it is—"
"No," she cuts me off, her voice suddenly sharp. "You don't understand. None of you do."
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Something's off. I scan the greenhouse, eyes narrowing as I peer into the corners between the overgrown foliage.
"Brigid," I murmur, my voice urgently quiet. "Don't move."
She freezes. "What is it?"
I don't answer immediately, straining my senses. There's a presence here.
"We're not alone," I finally say, stepping closer to Brigid. My hand hovers near the small of her back, not quite touching. "Something's here. Something that shouldn't be."
Brigid takes a sharp breath in. Her eyes dart around the greenhouse.
The air is heavy with malice. Leaves rustle without wind, vines twitch and curl.
"We should go," I mutter, eyeing the exit.
Brigid nods, but then she grabs my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. "Wait," she says, and I hear the urgency in her voice. "There's something you need to know."
"Now? Can't it wait until we're—"
"No," she cuts me off, her gray eyes flashing. "It can't."
I glance around the greenhouse again. "Alright," I concede, stepping closer to her. "What is it?"
She takes a deep breath, and I can almost see her steeling herself. "It's about the Raven King," she whispers, the words barely audible.
My blood runs cold. "What about him? Not really the time for a history lesson, Bridge." I keep my tone light. How much can she possibly know?
"Callen listen!” She tugs on my arm. “He has an heir," Brigid says, her voice steady despite the tremor I can feel running through her body. "And I think—I think it might be me."
The world seems to tilt on its axis. I stare at her, trying to process what she's just said. The Raven King's heir? Brigid? Impossible.
A sound like tearing silk fills the air, and the darkness around us deepens. Brigid's eyes widen.
"We need to go." I grab her hand. "Now."
As we run, my mind races. If what Brigid says is true, everything I thought I knew has just been turned on its head.