Page 63 of Shadowed Fate

His words trail off, but I understand. My chest aches for him. "I'm so sorry, Rory."

He nods, swallowing hard. "They were hunted. All of them. My parents, my siblings. I was the only one who..." His voice breaks. “I miss them. And without them, I have to figure it all out on my own now.” He turns to look at me. “You know?”

I nod and reach out without thinking, laying my hand on his arm. His skin is warm beneath my fingers and I feel that strange tug that comes straight from my heart.

"I never knew my birth parents," I say softly. "And the couple who adopted me... they died when I was five. Accident. I don’t know why I survived." I remember something Uncle John said to me once after too many pints at the pub—why you?

Rory's eyes meet mine, a flicker of recognition passing between us. He covers my hand with his own, rough calluses against my skin.

"Shite. That's awful, Brigid. I'm sorry."

I shrug, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through me at his touch. "It was a long time ago."

"Doesn't make it hurt any less though, does it?"

His words hit home, and I feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I blink them away furiously.

"No," I whisper. "It doesn't."

Rory shifts closer, his thigh pressing against mine. "How'd you cope? After..."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Badly. My uncle and his wife took me in, but they... they didn't want me. I was just a burden."

"Fuckers," Rory growls.

His anger on my behalf sends a jolt through me.

"Yeah," I agree. "What about you? After your family..."

Rory's jaw clenches. "I ran. For years. Kept moving, never staying in one place too long. Until I found Grimstone."

"And the guys," I murmur.

He nods. "Yeah. Exactly."

We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of our shared pain hanging between us. But it doesn't feel heavy. It feels... connecting. Like a thread binding us together.

Rory's thumb strokes over my knuckles, sending shivers down my spine. "You're not alone anymore, Brigid," he says softly. "You know that, right?"

I look up at him, my heart pounding. His eyes are darker, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body.

The moon rises higher, full and bright, bathing us in an delicate glow. Rory suddenly tenses, his grip on my hand tightening painfully.

"Fuck," he hisses, eyes widening. "I lost track of time. Brigid, you need to go. Now."

I frown, confusion warring with concern. "What's wrong?"

Rory's breathing grows ragged, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt. "The moon. I can feel the shift coming. I'm not... I can't control it yet. My family would have taught me—"

Realization dawns, and fear floods my veins. But I can't move, can't tear my eyes away from Rory's anguished face.

"Please," he begs, voice strained. "I don't want to hurt you. I'm not in control, the moon is. You need to run."

My heart races, my head screaming at me to flee. But something deeper, something instinctual, keeps me rooted to the spot.

"Brigid!" Rory growls, his eyes flashing amber. "Go!"

I should leave. I know I should. But the thought of abandoning Rory, of leaving him to face this alone...

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