Page 86 of Shadowed Fate

As the last flower folds back into its normal shape and size, we both collapse against a nearby table, breathing heavily. The greenhouse is a mess of tangled vines and scattered petals, but at least it's no longer trying to eat us.

I turn to Brigid, a wry smile on my face. "Well, that was interesting."

She pushes a strand of hair from her face, her eyes meeting mine. "You can't blame that one on me."

I laugh, surprised at how genuine and unguarded it is. "No, I suppose I can't.

Her cheeks flush slightly, and I feel a rush of satisfaction. I brush a stray leaf from my shoulder, eyeing Brigid carefully. The air between us feels charged, fragile. I need to tread lightly.

"So," I begin, aiming for cool, but probably missing by a mile. "How's the training with Lochan going? He wouldn't tell me anything. Just stomped off to his room and slammed the door. Typical Lochan, really."

Brigid's eyes dart away, her fingers idly running along the edge of a shelf.

Fuck. I hope I haven't completely screwed this up. The thought of her never trusting me again makes my stomach churn in a way I'm not used to. Since when do I care so much about what some mortal girl thinks of me?

"It's... complicated," Brigid finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. She looks up at me, and the vulnerability in her eyes hits me like a sucker punch.

She bites her lip, and I force myself not to stare. "Callen, I—"

The words seem to stick in her throat, and I can see the struggle behind those stormy gray eyes. Part of me wants to pry the secrets from her lips. But another part—a part I barely recognize—wants to give her the time and space she needs.

I'm so fucked. I lean against a nearby table, trying to appear casual. "Complicated, huh? I'm familiar with complicated. Hell, I practically invented it."

A ghost of a smile crosses her face, but it's gone in an instant. She turns back to the plants, her fingers gently touching a vibrant purple leaf.

"There’s something I do think I should tell you," she murmurs, so softly I almost miss it. "But I— I don't know."

The words sting more than they should. I've manipulated countless people over the years, played them like fiddles for my own gain. So why does this mortal girl's distrust feel like a knife to the gut?

"Fair enough," I say, forcing a casual shrug. "I haven't exactly given you much reason to, have I?"

Brigid's eyes meet mine, searching. There's a scrutiny to her gaze, like she's trying to peer into my soul. Good luck with that, darling. I'm not sure I even have one anymore.

"There's—" she starts, then stops, shaking her head. "It's dangerous, Callen. And I don't just mean for me."

My curiosity piques, warring with an urge to protect her, not the kind of impulse I often have. "Brigid, whatever it is—"

"No," she cuts me off, her voice suddenly sharp. "You don't understand. None of you do."

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Something's off. I scan the greenhouse, eyes narrowing as I peer into the corners between the overgrown foliage.

"Brigid," I murmur, my voice urgently quiet. "Don't move."

She freezes. "What is it?"

I don't answer immediately, straining my senses. There's a presence here.

"We're not alone," I finally say, stepping closer to Brigid. My hand hovers near the small of her back, not quite touching. "Something's here. Something that shouldn't be."

Brigid takes a sharp breath in. Her eyes dart around the greenhouse.

The air is heavy with malice. Leaves rustle without wind, vines twitch and curl.

"We should go," I mutter, eyeing the exit.

Brigid nods, but then she grabs my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. "Wait," she says, and I hear the urgency in her voice. "There's something you need to know."

"Now? Can't it wait until we're—"

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