Page 92 of Shadowed Fate

I want to smash him in his stupid royal face. To make him understand the depth of this betrayal.

My chest heaves as I struggle to contain the rage boiling inside me. "What fucking reason could justify—"

"My father," Callen says sharply. "I overheard him talking with someone from the Council."

The sudden shift throws me. "What?"

"They were discussing the rebellion, Loch. Congratulating themselves on instigating it."

My mind spins. The Fae King, orchestrating the rebellion? “Bull," I say, but even I hear the note of uncertainty.

"I wish it were," Callen replies. "They spoke of their plans once the rebellion had been ‘put down’ and how no one would question the Council stepping in to rule. Not only would no one question it, they’d beg for it, after the devastation brought upon them by the rebels."

The horror of what he’s saying becomes clear. "That's impossible. The King would never—"

"Wouldn't he?" Callen's eyes bore into mine. "You grew up playing in the castle, Loch. You know my father as well as I do. King Kerian is not exactly a paragon of virtue."

Fury rises in me again, hot and choking. "And you didn't think to tell me this before?" I snarl, closing the distance between us. "We're supposed to be friends, you asshole."

Callen doesn't back down. "And what would you have done? Run to the Council? Started a witch hunt based on fragments I overheard? There was nothing either one of us on our own could do.”

"I would have helped!" I roar, shoving him hard. He stumbles back, surprise flashing across his face. "Instead, you left me in the dark while you played spy with fucking rebels!"

Threads I'd overlooked start weaving a bigger picture now. Dean Charling's cryptic conversation, the Council's swift arrival...

"If the King's involved, and the Council... This goes deep."

Callen watches me warily. "Now you see why I couldn't just blurt it out?"

I stop, fixing him with a hard stare. "Doesn't excuse the shit you pulled."

"No," he agrees, surprising me. "But it gave me intel. There’s more to talk about. You need to hear some of the stories they tell about the rebels, and how their shadow magic was ‘extracted’ from them."

The anger that's been fueling me starts to ebb, leaving exhaustion in its wake. I slump against the wall, rubbing my temples. "So what now? We can't trust anyone."

Callen moves closer. "We trust each other. Figure this clusterfuck out before it's too late."

I look up, searching his face. The mask of indifference that Callen’s worn for too long now has slipped, revealing something raw and resolute. I see the friend I grew up with – the one I'd trust with my life.

"Alright," I say, straightening. "But if you're playing me, Cal, I swear I'll end you myself."

A ghost of his familiar smirk appears. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

The strain in the room shifts, not gone, but... different. We're on shaky ground, but at least we're standing together.

It's all connected, a twisted web with Brigid at its center. But why? What makes her so fucking important?

"We need to dig deeper. The Council, the Dean... there's got to be records, communications, something."

Callen nods, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "I think another trip to the restricted archives is in order, that is if—"

"Do it," I cut him off. "Whatever it takes."

I consider the implications. If we're right, if the leadership of the Council, and by definition Grimstone Academy as well, is corrupt...

"We can't trust anyone else with this," I mutter, more to myself than Callen. "Not until we know more."

"Agreed," Callen says. "We move carefully. Fill in Rory and Tiernan, of course."

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