Page 169 of The Mortal Trials

She shoves sleeves up her arms as far as they’ll go before opening her bag and rummaging around in it. “Came straight from Morrigan’s realm. Didn’t bother takin’ a moment to change my clothes. The goddess seemed impatient.”

And an impatient Morrigan is a dangerous Morrigan.

Niall leans on the door frame. He nods at Aisling and shoots me a look imploring me to find out what else she might know.

I shift toward her. “What are we celebrating tonight?”

She laughs warmly, but her smile fades away as she glances back and forth between Niall and me and answers, “You, of course.”

“Us?”

“Well… yes.” She guffaws. “Morrigan didn’t tell you anythin’? Truly?”

“I’m afraid to ask,” I mutter. If the goddess omitted something so basic, it doesn’t bode well for me. Her whispered warning fills my mind, and I swear I almost feel her breath on my neck. I rub the gooseflesh from the spot.

“I likely shouldn’t say more than that. If Morrigan doesn’t want you to know, there’s a reason,” she says thoughtfully, if not fearfully. As if snapping out of a trance, Aisling claps her hands. “Well, the two of you need to get ready, and fast. Your ride is on his way.”

“Ride?” Niall and I question at the same time.

Aisling rolls her eyes at us both. “The goddess might be indisposed, but she will make sure the pantheons know she’s never too far away from her people.”

Pantheons. My heart skips at the word.

Aisling scoots off the bed, pushes Niall out of the room, and slams the door in his face before yelling at him to get dressed. “Yours will take a little help donnin’, my dear.”

I glance at the outfit and almost snarl.

Aisling leans against the closed door. “Can I offer some advice?”

I nod.

“I know you don’t like the… ensemble. But if Morrigan sent it, there’s a reason. Somethin’ like that,” she nods to the contents of the box, “sends as strong a message as the armor you wore into battle.”

She crosses the space and waits for me to decide, and finally, the wisdom in her words takes root in my heart. She’s not wrong.

“Let’s get this over with,” I grumble.

A wide grin curves over her face before she strides over to help me. “You’re goin’ to look incredible.”

The fabric is far more pliant than I realized. The only way to describe it is as a dark, shimmering bodysuit that stretches from my jaw to the toes of my foot and prosthesis. “What kind of shoes am I supposed to wear with this? My boots?”

Aisling, brushing my hair, pauses in the middle of my back. “Absolutely not. No shoes.”

“What? Why?”

“Because those scarred things’ll blunt the glitter and every speck of you should shine.”

I peer over my shoulder at her. “The less conspicuous I am –”

She’s in front of me in a second, her eyes flashing. “You belong to the Celtics. You were not born to hide or be hidden.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but drawing the attention of certain gods wouldn’t be wise.”

“If you’re speakin’ of Ares, you already have it. So you can cower – no one would fault you for it – or,” she smiles conspiratorially as she draws the bodysuit’s neck higher, “you can make the most of it.”

My chest feels like it might cave in. “Am I going to die tonight?” I bluntly ask, carefully watching Aisling’s expression.

“No,” she tells me firmly. “Morrigan wouldn’t allow it.”