Page 109 of Shattered Veil
I’m vaguely aware that I should be fighting this, vaguely aware of the fighting that continues in the background. But the pleasure is too much. It takes over. I no longer care that I’m surrounded by weirdos in hoods as I squeeze my thighs together.
Then I hear her. It starts as a faraway whisper, too distant to distinguish the words. But it gets closer, and closer.
The Morrigan’s voice slides into my mind, silky and seductive.“Give in, Brigid. Let me take control. Together, we’ll be unstoppable.”
I curl my fingers, nails digging into my palms. The pain helps ground me, reminds me of who I am. No.
The Morrigan’s laughter echoes in my skull.“Foolish girl. You can’t resist me forever.”
I focus on my breathing, on the pull of those strings around my heart. Anything that can keep me anchored to myself.
The pleasure is still there, threatening to overwhelm me, but I push it back. I imagine building a wall in my mind, brick by brick, keeping the Morrigan’s essence at bay.
It’s working, but barely. I can feel her clawing at the edges of my consciousness, searching for any weakness. My whole body trembles with the effort of resisting her.
“You’re mine, Brigid,” the Morrigan purrs.“Your destiny was sealed long ago.”The Morrigan’s power pulses through me, a siren song of untold abilities. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to give in.
“Think of what we could accomplish together,” the Morrigan whispers.“No one would ever hurt you again. You’d be free from fear, from pain.”
My resolve wavers. God, it’s tempting. To never feel helpless or vulnerable again...
No. I don’t know if I’m speaking the word out loud or saying it in my head.
The Morrigan’s presence swells, threatening to drown me.“You’re tired of fighting, aren’t you, dear? Let go. Let me take care of everything.”
My mental walls crumble. I’m so fucking tired. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just... rest.
“That’s it,” the Morrigan whispers.“Just relax.”
I feel myself slipping away, my identity blurring at the edges. Who am I? Why was I fighting so hard?
Then, unbidden, I feel a wall slide into place in my mind, snapping me back to my senses.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Head.”
The Morrigan makes a sound of frustration.“You’ve had a little divine intervention, haven’t you, child? Which one of my old friends has given you this power? Something by way of a potion, I suspect.”
I think of Fiona and the vial of liquid she forced down my throat.
“Ah,” the Morrigan says, seeing my thoughts.“Sirona. I should have known. She can’t stop herself from meddling.”
Sirona? The name means nothing to me.
“No matter, child. Sirona’s potion will keep you here, but it won’t stop me from taking my vessel.”
I feel a thickness in my limbs. My skin feels like it’s made of quicksilver. My body feels like it’s being stretched and pulled in a thousand directions at once. I try to scream, but no sound comes out. The Morrigan’s essence swirls around me, a dark vortex threatening to swallow me whole.
My back arches off the altar. The pleasure is excruciating now, bordering on pain. My hips buck wildly, seeking friction against nothing but air.
Through the haze of sensation, I catch glimpses of the hooded figures surrounding me. Some are chanting, others just watching with hungry eyes. I should feel exposed, violated. Instead, I’m burning up from the inside out, desperate for release.
“Please,” I whimper, not even sure what I’m begging for anymore.
The Morrigan laughs, cruelly.“Oh, sweet girl. No one’s coming to save you. You’re mine now.”
I feel my control slipping away, my sense of self fragmenting. Who am I? Brigid? The Morrigan? Both? Neither?
And then she’s here. I’m still here too, but it’s like being in the back seat of a car when someone else is driving.
