Page 80 of Shattered Veil
King Cillian—my father—is standing with a Council member, their heads bent close in hushed conversation. My stomach drops. What the hell is he doing here?
“... ensure the shadow magic users take the fall,” my father’s voice drifts towards us. “The dean’s death must be pinned on them if we’re to move forward with our plans.”
The Council member nods. “And what of the girl? The vessel?”
“She passed the Harrowing,” my father says, his voice cold and calculating. “We proceed as planned. The Morrigan will rise, and we’ll finally have the power we need to—”
Lochan’s hand clamps down on my arm, his grip painfully tight. I glance at him, seeing my own horror reflected in his eyes.
It’s true. It’s all fucking true.
The Council, my own father—they’re behind everything. Dean Charling’s death, the frame job, Brigid...
I feel sick. Betrayed. Used.
But mostly, I feel pissed.
Because now? Now it’s personal.
Dad’s always been a Grade-A asshole, but this? This is next-level evil. Part of me wants to storm over, confront him, demand answers. But the smarter part—the part that’s kept me alive this long—knows that’d be suicide.
Lochan tugs me back further into the shadows. We creep away, silent as ghosts, until we’re far enough to breathe again.
“Fuck,” I hiss, leaning against the cold stone wall. “We’re so screwed.”
Lochan’s face is a mask of barely contained rage.
“Brigid. We have to warn her.”
“And the others,” Lochan adds, his voice tight. “If the Council’s willing to kill a dean—”
“—they won’t hesitate to take us out,” I finish. The horror of our situation hits me. “Gods, Loch. What are we going to do?”
He meets my eyes, and I see a familiar fire there.
“We fight,” he says simply. “We protect our own.”
I take a deep breath, pushing down the desperation, the betrayal. There’s no time for that shit now. “Alright,” I say, straightening up. “Let’s go save our girl.”
As we move, a grim smile tugs at my lips. Dad always said I was useless and would never do anything with my life. Time to prove the old bastard wrong.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing Lochan’s arm.
He tries to shake me off. “What the fuck, Callen? We need to move.”
“You need to hear this. We know the Council has been using shadow magic and framing the rebels. There’s no denying that now.”
His eyes narrow. “What are you getting at?”
I swallow, knowing this could change everything. “What if... what if that includes—”
“Don’t,” Lochan growls, but I push on.
“—your family.”
The words hang in the air between us, heavy and dangerous. Lochan’s face goes through a rapid-fire of emotions: shock, disbelief, anger, and then... something that looks a lot like fear.
“That’s not possible,” he says, but his voice lacks conviction.
