Page 45 of Awakened Destiny
I hesitate. This part of my past isn’t something I share lightly. But there’s something about the way she’s looking at me, like she actually wants to understand, not just hear the answers, that makes me decide to tell her.
"Elders in our enclave. They raised me to be... to be this." I gesture vaguely at myself, unsure how to put it into words. "To know things other people don’t. To see things differently. It was isolating sometimes, but it was also the only world I knew."
"That sounds lonely," she says, and there’s no pity in her voice, just an understanding that catches me off guard.
"Sometimes it was," I admit. "But it wasn’t all bad. There were moments—" I stop, searching for the right words. "Moments when it felt like I was part of something bigger. Like I had a purpose."
"Like here," she says, gesturing around the grove.
"Exactly." I nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "This place is a reminder. Of where I came from. Of what I’m supposed to be. And of what I lost."
"Lost?" Her voice softens, and I can see the question in her eyes even before she asks it. "What happened?"
I lean back slightly, my hands gripping the edge of the stone beneath me. "The enclave isn’t there anymore," I say after a long pause. "The Council saw to that. They didn’t like what we were teaching. Said it was dangerous. So they burned it to the ground."
Her breath hitches—not the dramatic kind, but enough that I catch the slight shift in her posture.
"Tiernan... " she begins, but I shake my head.
"It was a long time ago. And it’s part of why I’m here now. Part of why I want to help you."
"Help me?" Her brow furrows.
"I know what it feels like to carry something you don’t understand," I say, my gaze locking onto hers. "To feel like it might consume you if you’re not careful."
She doesn’t respond right away, but her eyes soften, and I can see the tension in her shoulders ease slightly.
"Thank you," she says eventually, her voice barely audible. "For telling me that. For trusting me with it."
I nod again, feeling a strange sense of relief that I hadn’t expected. Sharing this part of myself—it feels like peeling back a layer I didn’t realize I’d been hiding behind.
Brigid wiggles closer, her hand brushing against my forearm. The touch is light, hesitant, but it sends a warmth through me that feels weighted. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this. Her presence, her quiet assurance that she’s listening without judgment. She doesn’t push, doesn’t demand more than I’m ready to give. That alone makes me want to tell her everything, even the parts of my past I’ve locked away for years.
"You're easy to talk to," I say, and the words come out quieter than I intended. There’s something about her that disarms me, even when I’m trying to keep my guard up.
She smiles faintly, almost shyly, despite how intimate we’ve been with each other, and her fingers linger on my arm for a second longer before she pulls back. "You make it sound like I did something special."
"Maybe you did." I don’t mean for it to sound so honest, but there it is between us now.
Her gaze drops, and she chews on her bottom lip—a habit I’ve noticed whenever she’s deep in thought or holding something back. The shift in her body language is subtle, but I catch it. Her shoulders pull inward, and her hands clasp together as if she’s bracing herself. The change puts me on edge.
"Brigid," I say, my voice steady but gentle. "What is it?"
For a moment, she doesn’t answer. Her eyes stay fixed on the ground, and I can see her jaw tense, the muscles working as if she’s struggling to find the right words.
"I... " She stops, takes a breath, then tries again. "There’s something I need to tell you all.”
Chapter Twenty Five
Tiernan
"Take your time," I say, though my chest tightens. Whatever this is, it’s not easy for her.
She nods, glancing at me briefly before looking away again. Her arms cross over her chest, a clear sign she’s closing off, but I wait. I don’t press. If she’s going to tell me, it has to be on her terms.
"Since I’ve come back," she begins, keeping her voice low, "things have been different. I’ve been different." Her grip on her arms tightens, and she swallows hard. "It’s like—I don’t know how to explain it—but there’s this... power inside me. And it’s growing. I can feel it all the time now. Like it’s part of me, but also... not."
My mind races, piecing together what she’s saying, but I force myself to stay silent. This isn’t about me analyzing or solving anything. It’s about her getting this out.
