Page 62 of Shadowed Fate

I’d held my breath, willing them to go away. After a moment, their footsteps had retreated down the hall.

Guilt gnaws at me. Rory and Tiernan don't deserve the silent treatment. Neither does Eira, or even if I’m honest, Callen. But I can't face their concern, their questions. It's easier to hide. I’ve always been better at pushing people away than getting close to them. Why would that change now? I’m still me, right?

I curl onto my side, hugging my knees to my chest. This can't go on forever. But I’m familiar with this. I’m good at being alone. For now, the solitude is a cold comfort. At least alone, I can't hurt anyone. And no one can hurt me.

But this room is getting stuffy, and I need some fresh air to clear my head. My eyes dart to the window, measuring the fading light. It's almost dark—everyone should be at dinner by now. Less chance of running into anyone.

I slip on my old worn sneakers, not bothering to change out of my sweater and jeans from my life ‘before’. Who's going to see me, anyway? Easing the door open, I peek into the hallway. Empty.

I descend swiftly, sticking to the walls. The massive doors of Grimstone loom before me. I push one open just enough to squeeze through. Cool night air hits my face and I inhale deeply. I walk down the steps and around to the side, towards the grounds.

A garden stretches out, bathed in silvery moonlight. Roses nod drowsily, their perfume heavy in the air. It’s too late for roses, for any flowers really, but this place is immune to the laws of nature. In the distance, the wind in the leaves sounds like whispering.

I feel better out here, away from prying questions and side eyes. Walking among the flowers and the shrubs I can almost pretend I'm back in my little cottage garden.Almost.

The moon rises higher, casting long shadows across the perfectly manicured hedges. I wander deeper into the garden, my fingers trailing along their leaves. The air is scented with roses, bayberry and juniper, and it quiets my mind.

Paying more attention to the moon than my own two feet, I stumble over an exposed root. My hand scrapes against rough bark as I break my fall on a nearby tree. The pain is sharp, but it’s grounding too, reminding me that I'm still here, still real in this dreamlike place.

As I round a bend in the path, I stop. Rory is slumped on a stone bench, his usual smile no where to be seen. His broad shoulders are hunched, golden hair falling forward to hide his face. My heart clenches. I've never seen him look anything other than happy and full of life.

I should leave. But my feet won't move.

Rory looks up, his brown eyes staring into mine. The sadness there tugs at something deep inside me.

Fuck. I can't just walk away now.

"Hey," I say softly.

"Brigid." His voice is rough. "Didn't expect to see you out here."

I shrug, perching on the far end of the bench. "Needed some air."

Rory nods, then asks, "Why've you been avoiding us?"

My throat tightens, and I pick at a loose thread. "It's... a lot. Everything. I needed space."

"Fair enough," he says.

We sit in silence. The moonlight illuminates his profile, highlighting the strong line of his jaw. He's beautiful, even now. Especially now, with his walls down.

My fingers itch to touch him, to smooth away the furrow between his brows. I curl them into fists instead.

"You okay?" I ask finally.

Rory's laugh is hollow. "Grand. Fucking spectacular."

I raise an eyebrow. "Bullshit."

Rory's shoulders fall. "Yeah."

“Tell me?” I want to reach out and touch his hand. “If you want to, I mean.” I glance down at my hands, clasped in my lap.

“Some days are just hard, y’know?”

I nod.

“It’s just me now. I had a family. They’re gone. They—”

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