Page 108 of Shattered Veil
But even as I say it, I feel something stirring deep inside. It’s dark and wild, hungry for release. Part of me wants to give in, to let it consume everything.
No. I can’t. I won’t.
I focus on my mates, on their faces. Lochan’s fierce protectiveness. Tiernan’s quiet strength. Callen’s wicked grin. Rory’s gentle touch.
“They can’t save you,” another figure hisses.“You belong to us now.”
“Like hell I do,” I spit, channeling my fear into rage.“I don’t belong to anyone.”
The magic surges, and I feel myself slipping. Desperate, I latch onto the mate bonds that I always feel now, like strings tied around my heart. I use them to anchor myself to my mates. Use them as an anchor against the rising tide of power.
Rough hands grab me, lifting me off the cold floor. My body feels like lead, unresponsive to my desperate attempts to fight back, my shadow magic made impotent. I’m carried through the chamber, my head lolling against someone’s chest. The flickering green light casts eerie shadows across the painted figures on the walls, making them seem almost alive as they caress and fuck.
My stomach flips as I’m lowered onto a raised stone altar in the center of the room. The chill of the surface seeps through my clothes, raising goosebumps on my skin. Hooded figures surround me, their faces hidden in shadow. Dread roils in my gut, choking me.
“No,” I try to say, but it comes out as barely a whisper.
Rough hands grip my arms, raising them above my head. Others grasp my ankles, stretching me out across the stone. I’m spread-eagle, completely vulnerable.
“No,” I croak, the word, hardly audible.
They ignore my feeble protest. Fingers fumble at the fastenings of my clothes. They strip me bare, rough fingers scraping against my skin as they remove every scrap of fabric.
I’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Tears of frustration and fear burn behind my eyes.
The hooded figures drape a heavy green robe over my naked body. It’s soft against my skin, but I hate the way it clings to me, accentuating every curve. I feel like a sacrifice being prepared for the slaughter.
The chanting grows louder, more insistent. The air thickens, pressing down on me. Magic fizzes through the chamber, raising the hair on my arms. My shadow magic stirs in response, a faint flicker of power that dies as quickly as it appears. It’s getting harder to breathe, harder to think.
A scream of rage cuts through the chanting. I twist my head, catching a glimpse of Lochan as he charges towards me, his face a mask of fury. Behind him, I see flashes of the others, all fighting desperately to reach me.
“Brigid!” Lochan roars, his voice raw with desperation. He’s so close, just a few feet away.
A guard slams into him, tackling him to the ground. I watch in horror as more guards pile on, pinning him down.
“No!” I scream silently, as words will no longer come.
Chapter Forty-Six
Brigid
I fight to keep my eyes open, but a figure on the sidelines catches my attention. Eira. Her eyes meet mine, and my stomach twists with betrayal.
“You,” I slur.“What did you do?”
Eira looks away, unable to meet my eyes any longer. I watch as she wrings her hands.
Why?
My eyes scan around the chamber, searching hopelessly for a certain face. For him. But Marius is nowhere to be seen.
Did he just leave me here, to face whatever the Council has planned? No. He wouldn’t. Not after what he told me. The thought gives me hope.
A familiar warmth blooms in my core, spreading through my body like liquid fire. Every nerve ending is suddenly super sensitive. I gasp as an unexpected wave of pleasure crashes over me, my hips arching off the altar. It’s the same sensation I felt the last time I was in this chamber, but amplified tenfold. My nipples harden, straining against the fabric of the green covering, and I have to bite my lip to stifle a moan.
The Morrigan’s essence seeps into me, filling every cell of my body with dark, seductive power. My skin feels too tight, like I might burst out of it at any moment.
“Oh, no,” I whimper, my hips rolling of their own accord. The pressure building inside me is almost unbearable, a coiled spring ready to snap. My vision blurs, the chamber’s stone walls melting into shadow. Ghostly hands seem to caress my skin, teasing and tormenting. I arch into their touch, craving more.
