Chapter 43
Brigid
I slam my hands against Marius’s chest. “What was that!”
Marius says nothing, but his eyes never leave mine.
Callen grabs him by his shirt and pulls him. “What the fuck did you do?” he hisses.
I watch as shadows run down Marius’s arms.
“No!” I push between them. “Stop it.”
Lochan steps towards Marius, his jaw clenched and his hand curling into a fist. “You’ve had shadow magic all along,” he spits.
I step closer to Marius, my body tense. I can feel the shadows responding to my turmoil, reaching out from the corners of the room.
"You knew," I snarl, jabbing a finger at his chest. "You need to start talking."
Marius's lips curl, his posture relaxed despite the hostility surrounding him. “Little bird, you're asking questions you're not ready to hear the answers to."
"Try me." Shadows flicker at my fingertips.
“Did they tell you the Raven King was dead? They lied.”
I can barely breathe. ”And what's your connection to him?"
Marius's eyes darken. "Let's just say we have a... long-standing arrangement."
"What does that mean?" Callen demands.
Marius replies to Callen, but his eyes never leaves mine. "It means, your highness ,” he sneers, “that you take your hands off me or find out.”
“Callen, let him go.” I can feel the shadow magic in Marius, it’s riling up my shadow magic, making it agitated. How?
“How are we connected?” I need to know, because after feeling what happened, I know beyond a doubt that we are. But is it just the shadow magic?
As I question Marius, I can feel Lochan's eyes boring into me. His jaw clenches, muscles twitching beneath tanned skin. The furrowing of his brow deepens as his glance darts between Marius and me, distrust etched in every line of his face.
A distant rumble echoes through the halls, and I feel the floor tremble beneath my feet. Lochan's head snaps towards the sound, his body tensing like a coiled spring.
"More Council guards," he growls, voice low and urgent. "They're coming. We need to move. Now."
"Where? That’s the only exit."
Marius steps forward, a sly grin playing on his lips. He presses his palm against a seemingly ordinary stone in the wall, and his shadows slink around the sides. The stone sinks inward with a soft shush. A section of the wall grinds open, revealing a dark passageway.
Lochan's eyes narrow. "How the fuck do you know about this?"
"Does it matter?" Marius counters. "Unless you'd prefer to explain to the Council why you've just maimed some of their guards and sent a few others into a void in an attempt to break out their prisoner?"
The sound of heavy footsteps grows louder. Callen grabs my arm. "We don't have time for this. Go!"
We plunge into the darkness, the passageway sealing shut behind us. The air is thick, musty, pressing in on all sides. My breath comes in short gasps as we descend deeper into Grimstone's bowels.
"Fuck," I hear Callen mutter. "I can't see a damn thing."
I stumble in the darkness and feel a hand grab my arm before I fall, the touch gentle but firm, and whoever it is doesn’t let go immediately
A soft blue glow suddenly illuminates the passage, emanating from a small orb, and I see Tiernan at my side. He gives me a small squeeze and then removes his hand, the glowing ball hovering above his other.
The light glances over the moisture on the stone walls, making them glisten like the scales of some great, subterranean beast.
The passage narrows, forcing us to walk single file. The ceiling dips lower, and I have to hunch to avoid scraping my head. The air grows colder, heavier, as if the very weight of Grimstone is pressing down upon us.
"Where does this lead?" I whisper, my voice sounding unnaturally loud in the confines of the tunnel.
Marius's reply drifts back. "To those answers you claim to want."
He’s in front of me, and when he stops short, I collide with his back. I feel the heat of him through our clothing and my shadows seem to sigh.
“Careful, little bird.”
I step back quickly, my skin tingling where we touched. Lochan's low growl echoes from behind me, a warning rumble in the tight space.
"Grimstone wasn't built here by chance," Tiernan says. "The academy sits on top of a nexus of ley lines. Ancient magic runs beneath our feet."
"How convenient," Lochan's voice drips with sarcasm. "And I suppose you just happened to know about this secret passage, Marius?"
Before Marius can respond, the ground beneath us shifts. A grinding sound fills the air, and suddenly we're falling.
I slam on to a stone floor below the passageway, the breath knocked from my lungs. Tiernan's light orb flickers wildly, casting frantic shadows across unfamiliar walls.
"Everyone alright?" Tiernan asks.
I struggle to my feet and try to regain the breath that was just slammed out of me.
The floor is cold and hard beneath my palms as I push myself up.
I hear Callen groan. “Fuck me.”
As my eyes adjust, I see we've dropped into a circular chamber with strange symbols carved into the walls.The chamber is dimly lit by Tiernan's flickering orb, casting shadows that dance across the walls. The symbols are etched in a strange language, and they glow.
The air is stale, like this place hasn’t been disturbed in a long time. There is a faint scent of incense.
"Trap," Lochan snarls, rounding on Marius. "You led us right into it, you bastard!"
Marius's laugh is cold. "If I wanted you dead, I'd have left you to the Council."
The symbols on the walls flare brighter, and a wave of dizziness washes over me. My shadows writhe beneath my skin, restless.
A low humming fills the chamber, as if the very walls are vibrating with some kind of energy. And every now and then, a soft whisper seems to echo through the space, as if someone or something is speaking in a language I can't quite understand.
Marius’s apparent amusement fades as the symbols continue to glow, each one emanating power. "This isn't a trap," he mutters, his eyes scanning the room.
"Then what is it?" Callen snaps, glaring at Marius.
Tiernan steps forward, his expression serious. "It's a ritual chamber."
As I step further into the chamber, the air grows heavier, charged with an electric energy raises the hairs on my arms. The walls are painted with intricate murals that seem to move in the flickering light, their vivid colors defying the passage of time. Each scene is a graphic tableau of sensuality.
“Um—," I whisper. I can't tear my eyes away from the explicit imagery that surrounds me. The murals tell a story of desire and domination, each panel more intense than the last.
The central figures are a woman with flowing dark hair, her eyes wild and free, and a shadowy figure with sprawling pitch-black feathered wings—the Raven King. His face is always turned away, obscured by shadows, but his presence is unmistakable. There's an aura of dark power emanating from him, a palpable force that seems to radiate from the very walls.
In one mural, the woman is depicted standing tall and proud, her body nude and unashamed. Her breasts are full, and her form is voluptuous and powerful. The Raven King stands behind her, his wings enveloping her in a dark embrace. His hands are spread across her belly and her mound. Her head is thrown back, lips parted in a silent moan.
I hear Lochan clear his throat, and I’m sure I see Callen adjust his trousers. We just lost Rory, and there’s a time and a place, but I get it—this whole chamber is thrumming with erotic energy, it’s inescapable.
Another scene shows the woman on her knees, her dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. The Raven King stands before her, his body a study in masculine perfection. Her hands are on his thighs, her mouth mere inches from his erect length. The anticipation is tangible, the anticipation in the scene so real it's as if I can feel it in the air around me.
The soft whispering I heard before has grown louder, almost as if it's chanting, or moaning, along with the figures in the murals. It's a seductive sound, a symphony of pleasure and pain that pulls at me. If I close my eyes I can almost feel the heat of the Raven King's touch on my skin. The murals are alive.
In the most explicit mural, the woman is depicted lying on her back, her body arched in ecstasy. The Raven King looms over her, his wings spread wide, casting a shadow that seems to envelop them both. His hands are on her thighs, spreading her wide as he enters her. Her face is twisted in a mix of pleasure and pain, her eyes locked onto his shadowed form. The intensity of the scene is overwhelming, the raw passion and power almost too much to bear.
I feel a flush spread across my cheeks, my breath coming in short gasps as I study the erotic imagery.
Their ecstasy is visceral, her pleasure a living thing that is alive in the chamber.
The Raven King's dark sensuality is a heady mix of danger and desire that sends a thrill through my veins. I feel a wetness between my legs and my whole body buzzes. It doesn’t make sense, not when I’m in so much pain from losing Rory. But I know I’m not the only one feeling it. No one can take their eyes of the artwork on the walls.
I notice another mural, this one less erotically charged. It depicts the same woman, nude, but instead of just the Raven King it has four additional male figures surrounding her, all of them naked and in various states of rapture.
I swallow, the sound too loud in the stone room. I’m acutely aware of the parallels between my situation right now and the final mural.
The whispering grows louder still, the chanting more insistent. It's as if the very walls are urging me on, drawing me deeper into the chamber, and into the world of the murals.
There’s an altar. The altar stands tall in the center of the room, a stone structure adorned with carvings of the same strange symbols. I recognize some of them from the book. I take a step forward, then another, my heart pounding in my chest as I surrender to the inexplicable pull of the scene before me.
The stone is cold and smooth under my fingertips, but there is also a subtle energy emanating from it. The edges are worn smooth from years of use and touch, as if it has been witness to countless rituals and ceremonies.
As my fingers trace the altar's smooth surface, swirls of shadow magic suddenly erupt from my skin. They slide up my arms unbidden. I gasp, stumbling back.
But it's too late. I'm falling, falling into a blackness that stretches endlessly in all directions.
Images flash before me, each one searing itself into my mind. The woman from the mural stands before me, her eyes piercing through my soul. She's older, more powerful, radiating an aura of dark sensuality.
Ravens swoop and dive around us, their caws the only sound in the emptiness. Their wings brush against my skin, leaving trails of shadow in their wake. I can feel their intelligence, their connection to something greater than myself.
"Who are you?" I try to ask, but no sound escapes my lips.
The woman simply smiles, a secretive curve of her lips that speaks of ancient knowledge and hidden power.
The vision shifts, fracturing into a kaleidoscope of images. I see myself wielding shadow magic with a mastery I can scarcely imagine. I see battles, blood, and betrayal. I see love and lust intertwined with darkness.
And then, at the very edge of my perception, I see him.
"Rory," I breathe, and my heart seizes.
He's alive, battered, but unmistakably alive. His eyes meet mine across the impossible distance, filled with a mixture of hope and fear. He sees me.
The vision shatters. I'm back in the chamber, but my body is no longer under my control. Magic races through me, setting every nerve on fire. My muscles seize, and I collapse over the altar.
"Brigid!" Someone shouts—Lochan? Marius? I can't tell anymore.
My body convulses, magic pouring from me in violent waves. Through blurred vision, I see my companions frozen in indecision, terror etched on their faces.
Marius takes a step forward, his hand outstretched. "We have to—“
"Don't touch her!" Lochan snarls, grabbing Marius's arm. "You've done enough damage."
I want to scream, to tell them I'm okay, but another spasm wracks my body. The shadows grow, spreading across the floor like living ink.
"We can't just do nothing!" Tiernan's usually even voice cracks with a panic I’ve never heard before.
As darkness creeps into the edges of my vision, I feel a warm energy coming from the altar. The shadows swirl around my mind, forming shapes.
My last coherent thought before consciousness slips away is of Rory's face, and the impossible hope that now burns within me.