Chapter 41
Brigid
The Council guards close in, their threatening forms looming in the dark dungeon light. Blood rushes in my ears as I scan for any escape route. Nothing.
"Any bright ideas?"
Callen's lips quirk, but his eyes are hard. "Oh, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, darling."
"Well, well," drawls one of the guards, a towering brute with cruel eyes. He stares at me. "You’ll be answering to the Council for this. Or maybe you won’t even make it that far."
Lochan shifts, muscles coiled tight. I sense the others tensing too—the feel of magic permeates the air, humming with potential.
The guard’s face twists in anger as he looks at me. His passive expression is gone now and there’s just pure hatred. "Insolent little bitch."
He lunges forward, meaty fist swinging. Time seems to slow as Lochan moves, his movements fluid and deadly. He intercepts the attack.
"Now, Callen!" Lochan shouts, engaging another guard.
The air shimmers around us, and suddenly there are dozens of copies of our group scattered throughout the dungeon. I blink, momentarily disoriented by the illusion.
"Nice party trick," I mutter, impressed despite myself.
"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet, darling."
A guard lunges forward, a ball of energy forming in his palm.
But Lochan is faster.
In a blur of motion, Lochan’s fist connects, opening a crimson gash across the guard's cheek. The brute howls, enraged.
All hell breaks loose.
The Council guards surge forward. Lochan swerves between them, his movements precise. I hear bone crunching as he finds his mark again and again.
Callen's magic explodes outward in a dazzling array of light and color. Shimmering illusions flood the dungeon—duplicate versions of us darting in all directions, phantasmal beasts with gnashing teeth. The guards falter in confusion.
I summon my own magic, feeling the familiar cool tendrils of shadow coiling around my fingers. But something's wrong. The power feels unstable. Volatile.
Panic bubbles up inside me. I can't lose control. Not here. Not now.
A guard breaks through, grabbing for me. I lash out on instinct, shadows whipping from my hand. They slice across his face and he reels back, screaming.
Guilt and nausea churn in my gut. I didn't mean to—
"Brigid, watch out!" Callen's warning cry snaps me back to awareness.
I spin just as another one lunges, magic glinting at his fingertips. Time seems to slow as I realize I won't be fast enough to dodge.
But then Lochan is there, inserting himself between us. He hurls a powerful burst of energy that slams into the man's chest with brutal efficiency.
Our eyes lock for a heartbeat. The emotion I see there steals my breath.
"Stay behind me.” Lochan waits for me to acknowledge, staring into my eyes.
I nod, not trusting my voice. My heart thunders for reasons that have nothing to do with fear.
The hallway is a chaotic whirl of strength and magic. We're holding our own, but barely. The guards are strong, and they are skilled.
The shadows whisper, urging me to embrace their power. To let go and surrender.
It would be so easy. So tempting.
But if I do, will I be able to come back?
I hear Rory growl. "You lads picked the wrong boys to fuck with."
A guttural snarl rips through the air, snapping my attention to him. His eyes blaze with feral intensity as he drops to all fours. Bones crack and muscles undulate beneath his skin. In seconds, where my friend once stood, a massive werewolf towers over the nearest guard.
He lunges, sharp claws raking across skin. Blood sprays, and I flinch at the raw violence. But there's no time for hesitation.
Another guard charges at me, and I brace myself. But before he reaches me, thick vines erupt from the dungeon floor, ensnaring his legs.
Tiernan stands a few feet away, eyes closed in concentration. His fingers dance in intricate patterns as he communes with the earth itself.
More roots burst through cracks in the walls, whipping and grasping at our attackers. The dungeon itself seems to come alive, fighting alongside us.
I stare in awe. "Tiernan, that's incredible!"
He opens his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips. "Nature always finds a way, even in the darkest places."
A guard breaks free of the vines, lunging at Tiernan with a snarl. Without thinking, I throw my hand out. Shadows form into a razor that slashes across the attacker's back.
The power surges and I drink it in.
I feel the shadows beneath the surface, begging for release. But then I see something, drawing my attention away from the potent rush of power.
Marius stands apart from the fray. The surrounding shadows contort and curl, responding to his will. With a swipe of his hand, ebony tentacles lash out, wrapping around a guard’s throat and lifting him off the ground.
"What the hell?" I whisper, unable to look away.
Marius turns, his eyes meeting mine. A smile plays at the corner of his mouth.
I want to respond, but the words die in my throat as I watch him. His movements are fluid, graceful, as if he's dancing with the darkness itself. It's an ominous work of art.
A new guard charges at him from behind. Without looking, Marius gestures lazily. A wall of shadows rises, solidifying just in time for the attacker to slam into it face-first.
"How are you doing that?" I ask, unable to keep the awe out of my voice.
He chuckles. "The same way you do, little bird. We're more alike than you know."
His words light something within me. The shadows inside me throb, threatening to break free. I gasp, doubling over as the magic pulses through my veins like liquid fire.
"No," I grit out, clenching my fists. "I can't lose control. Not now."
But the power is relentless, clawing at my insides, demanding to be unleashed. It feels like something is pulling them out of me. My eyes blur, the edges tinged with blackness. It’s exactly like one of my visions, except I’m fully aware of reality.
"Let it go, Brigid," Marius's voice cuts through the haze. "Embrace what you are."
I shake my head frantically. "You don't understand. If I lose control..."
His tone is matter-of-fact. "So don't lose control. Master it."
A vicious snarl rips through the air, drawing my attention. Rory, still in his werewolf form, is pinned against the wall by three guards. His fur is matted with blood, both his and theirs.
"Rory!" I scream, my heart racing. The sight of Rory in danger ignites something primeval within me. My fear dissolves, replaced by a burning rage that courses through my body.
"Fuck this," I snarl, letting the shadows uncoil from my core.
Curls of darkness explode outward, whipping through the air like living things. They slam into the guards holding Rory, sending them flying across the dungeon.
Lochan's eyes widen as he parries with an attacker. "What the—?"
I can't answer. The magic rushes through me.
"That's it, little bird," Marius intones, his own shadows intertwining with mine. "Let it out."
Callen's illusions flicker and fade as he turns to stare. "Holy shit."
The dungeon grows darker; the shadows deepening and spreading. I feel drunk on power, my senses aware of every movement, every breath.
"Brigid," Tiernan's voice is cautious. "Are you alright?"
The shadows converge around me, forming a swirling drain of pure darkness. It's beautiful and terrible, and for the first time in my life, I feel truly, completely myself.
"What are you?" a guard whispers.
I bare my teeth in a feral grin.
The maelstrom expands, engulfing everything in its path.
"Brigid!" Rory's voice cuts through the fog.
A deafening crack splits the air, and reality itself seems to tear open before us. The roiling shadows unite into a gaping abyss.
"Holy fuck," I gasp, my knees nearly buckling.
The rift throbs with otherworldly rhythm, its edges rippling like disturbed water. Within, I glimpse a nightmarish landscape of twisted shadows and desolation.
"What have you done?" Lochan breathes.
I shake my head, unable to form words. The darkness from the rift spills into our world, filaments of shadow snaking across the dungeon floor.
"Close it!" a guard screams. "For the love of the gods, close it!"
Rory growls, hackles raised, as he positions himself between me and the rift. "Brigid, can you control this?"
"I... I don't know," I whisper, my voice trembling.
Callen's eyes are wide.
Lochan’s words are terse. "This is beyond anything I've ever seen. The Council will—"
"Fuck the Council," Marius interrupts.
Tiernan grips my arm, his touch grounding me. I stare into the rift, feeling an inexplicable pull. Something in that realm calls to me, resonating with the magic in my blood. I stand frozen, caught between two worlds, as the very fabric of reality unravels around us.
Shadowy arms wrap around our legs like hungry serpents..
"It's consuming everything," Tiernan shouts, his voice tight.
I watch in horror as the shadows climb the walls, quivering. The air grows thicker, more oppressive, making each breath a struggle.
Lochan slashes at the encroaching darkness with his power. It parts like smoke, only to reform instantly. "We need to get out of here,"
A scream pierces the air. One of the guards is being dragged towards the rift, shadows coiled around his thrashing body.
"Help me!" he wails, fingers clawing at the stone floor.
I reach out instinctively, but Rory's massive form blocks my path.
"Don't," he barks. "We don't know what'll happen if you touch it."
The guard’s screams cut off abruptly as he's pulled into the void. The silence that follows is deafening.
Bile rises in my throat.
"What have I done?”