Page 11 of Shattered Veil
I lean in, voice low.“What if we use Laria? Make the dean and the Council think we’re not interested in Brigid.”
Callen raises an eyebrow.“Go on.”
“We pretend to be interested in Laria. As our potential mate. Not Brigid.”
Tiernan frowns.“That’s...”
“Brilliant,” Callen finishes.“And bloody cold, Lochan.”
My gut twists. It’s manipulative as hell, and I know it.
Callen taps his fingers against the table, eyes narrowed in thought.“Less scrutiny could be advantageous. Give us room to maneuver, dig deeper into the Council’s plans for Brigid.”
“Think about it,” I say.“While they’re watching Brigid, we’re free to—”
“It’s wrong,” Tiernan cuts in, voice low but firm.“And it will hurt Brigid.”
I clench my jaw. Fucking druids.
“We’re trying to protect Brigid,” I growl.
Tiernan’s eyes flash.“By potentially putting her in more danger? You really think Laria won’t retaliate when she figures it out?”
He has a point.
Callen leans back.“The risks are considerable. But so are the potential rewards.”
“If we don’t act, Brigid’s as good as dead anyway. You don’t really believe we’re just going to go back to classes, parties, like everything is fine? I don’t know why they let her—let us—go, but it wasn’t so that we could live happily ever after.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with truth.
Callen nods, his expression grim.“We proceed. Cautiously.”
Tiernan’s shoulders slump in defeat.“I don’t like it. But... I’m in.”
I nod, relief and unease warring in my gut. It’s a shit plan, but it’s something. If the dean’s eyes are off of us, we can find out more. We might be able to figure out what’s going on.
“We keep this between us,” I say.“No one else can know. We can’t tell Brigid.”
Movement at the edge of my vision catches my attention. My chest tightens as I spot Brigid entering the dining hall.
Fuck.
She walks toward us, hips swaying slightly. My eyes narrow as I take in her appearance. Hair slightly mussed. Cheeks flushed.
And her lips...
Swollen. Freshly kissed.
Rage boils up inside me. That fucking shadow-wielding bastard. Marius.
I clench my fists under the table, nails biting into my palms. The urge to hunt him down, to make him bleed, flows through me.
But I can’t. We need to stick to the plan. Keep our heads down. Pretend we don’t give a shit about Brigid.
Even as every instinct in me screams to claim her, to mark her as mine.
I force my face into a mask of indifference as she approaches. It’s for her own good, I tell myself. To keep her safe.
