Page 54 of Shadowed Fate

Brigid

The opulent fairy tale of last night is a distant dream. Hushed whispers and sidelong glances replace the lively chatter and music of the evening before.

I pause at the entrance, my fingers twisting the sleeve of my sweater. Every eye in the room turns to me, conversations stopping. The weight of their stares presses down on me like a physical force.

Not this bullshit again.

I force myself to move, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead as I make my way to where Rory and Tiernan are sitting. Their concerned expressions only amplify the knot in my stomach.

"Morning, love," Rory says as I slide into the seat beside him. "Sleep alright?"

I shrug, not trusting my voice. The smell of eggs and bacon on the plate in front of me is turning my stomach. Coffee is all I can handle right now and I take a sip of the steaming brew gratefully.

Tiernan leans in. "You know no one actually thinks you had anything to do with what happened, right?"

My laugh is sharp and bitter. "Right. Because I always get this kind of attention at breakfast."

Rory's warm hand covers mine. "Ah, feck 'em. They're just scared shitless and looking for someone to blame."

I pull my hand away, unable to deal with the comfort right now. "Where are Callen and Lochan?"

Tiernan and Rory exchange a look I can't quite decipher.

"Haven't seen 'em," Rory says after a beat.

The silence stretches between us, broken only by the scrape of cutlery and muffled conversations around us. My skin crawls with the weight of unseen eyes.

I stand abruptly, nearly knocking over my cup. "I should go. I'll see you guys later."

"Brigid, wait—" Tiernan starts, but I'm already walking away, my steps quickening as I near the exit.

The cool air of the corridor is a blessed relief after the stifling atmosphere of the dining hall. I lean against the wall, trying to steady my breathing.

What am I doing here?

I close my eyes, remembering the night Lochan and Callen showed up in my backwater town.

My fingers trace the rough stone of the wall as I walk, lost in thought. The Dean had found me so quickly after my magic awakened. Too quickly? I’d never questioned that. There are so many things I still don’t know.

Fuck it. I need answers.

My feet carry me towards Dean Charling's office before I can talk myself out of it. The last place I should be is anywhere near that office, considering what attacked him last night. But I know it wasn’t me.

I reach the door, my hand hovering over the handle.

Sweat beads on my upper lip as I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting have someone show up, pointing a finger at me. I briefly wonder if they have cops here, or if that’s a human world thing. But the corridor stretches empty behind me.

Shouldn’t there be more activity here?

The Dean was just murdered, I’d expect his office to be roped off with security tape or something, like on tv. But everyone is acting as if this is just a regular day, aside from staring at me like I’m a murderer, that is.

My fingers close around the cool metal. One more steadying breath, and I push the door open, slipping inside like a thief in the night.

The office is quiet, the air thick and heavy with unnatural stillness. My eyes dart around, taking in details that I missed when I was first in here. Bookshelves line the walls, a mix of modern paperbacks and leather-bound hardcovers. A massive mahogany desk dominates the center of the room, its surface cluttered with papers and strange looking trinkets and boxes.

I move towards it, my steps muffled by the plush rug underneath. My hands shake as I start rifling through the papers, searching for... I don't even know what.

There’s a filing cabinet. I open a drawer and comb through it, but nothing stands out. Until my fingers brush against a folder and I suck in a breath when I see it’s labeled with my name. I flip it open, scanning the contents.

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