I think about the last time I was here, the damp smell of the leaves on the ground in the forest, the terrified dark-haired girl in the ugly, mustard-yellow sweater who had no idea how special she was. Even then, before I knew about the bond humming beneath my ribs, she made the entire fucking world tilt. I’d chalked it up to the adrenaline of having to battle against the blob that was attracted to her magic awakening. Now? Now I know better.
Lochan nudges my shoulder.“You zoning out, or do we get to stand here admiring the sewage system all night?”
I blink. Rory’s already prowling ahead, nostrils flaring as he scans the alleys. Tiernan’s fingers skim the brick wall beside him, divining patterns in the mortar cracks. Marius lingers three paces back, shoulders rigid. His eyes are too dark again, pupils swallowing the irises. The Raven King’s shadow claws at the edges of Fiona’s potion—I can see it in the twitch of his jaw, the way his left hand keeps curling like he’s gripping a blade that isn’t there.
“Lead the way,” I say.“Unless you’d rather hold hands and sing campfire songs first.”
He strides past, and we follow, flanking him like reluctant bodyguards. Storefronts blur—boarded-up windows, For Lease signs yellowed with age. A liquor store’s security gate rattles as we pass. The place Brigid called home feels like a boneyard dressed in vinyl siding.
She grew up here. The thought needles me. Not the dirt or the decay, but the muted desperation leaching from every cracked curb.
Rory sniffs the air.“No Brigid. Just... burnt coffee and wet dog.”
“You sure that’s not you?” Lochan mutters.
Marius stops abruptly. A tremor runs through him, brief but I catch it. He tilts his head like he’s listening to a frequency the rest of us can’t hear. Black ink swirls beneath his collar as if the tattoos themselves are restless. "This way," he growls, already moving.
We pivot down an alley reeking of stale fryer grease. My boots stick to the pavement—discarded gum and decades of grime. Brigid walked these streets in worn sneakers, unaware of the destiny waiting in her blood.
Marius stops under one of the streetlights. His hands tremble, left one worse than the right. When he turns, shadows pool too deeply under his eyes.“She’s close.”
“Define close.” I step into his space, close enough to see the vein pulsing at his temple.“Throwing distance close? Stab-you-in-the-kidneys close?”
A muscle jumps in his jaw.“Back off.”
Marius strides ahead without waiting. Typical. I catch his sleeve, leather cold against my fingers.“You twitch sideways, and I’ll peel those pretty tattoos off your skin.”
He shakes my hand loose.“Don’t fucking touch me.”
For a moment, I think he might punch me. But he just turns and stalks ahead, shoulders rigid.
We follow him down another alley, this one even narrower and more rank than the last. The stench of rotting garbage makes my eyes water. Rory gags behind me.
"Fuck's sake," Lochan mutters. "How much farther?"
A cat yowls from a nearby dumpster, making Rory jump.
"Jumpy, mutt?" I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
Rory just grunts, his eyes scanning our surroundings warily.
Suddenly, Marius freezes. His whole body goes rigid, and when he turns to face us, his eyes are completely black. The Raven King's essence swirls just beneath the surface, threatening to break free.
Rory's head snaps up, nostrils flaring. "I smell her," he growls, voice rougher than usual. "And something else. Something wrong."
"How far?" Lochan demands.
Before Rory can answer, a scream rips through the night air.
Chapter Seven
Brigid
The Morrigan propels my body to the outskirts of town. I’m still reeling from the encounter with Stacy. What she did to her, how Stacy pleaded for her to stop. For me to stop.
I reach desperately for that golden thread connecting me to my mates, but it's fading. I’m not even sure I can feel it anymore. Panic rises in my throat.
"They can't help you now," the Morrigan whispers.
