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“Your mother still lives in Cethin.”
Chapter 37
Brynshovedbackfromthe table so abruptly that the chair fell backward, making a loud racket in the quiet space. Everyone in the drawing room stared with their mouths open and eyes wide.
“Liar!” Bryn yelled, her mind going feral at the implication that she had a mother out there. One that had not died during childbirth but lived and never looked for her daughter.
A daughter living in pain and ostracized.
“Bryn, we can go and find her.” Jace stood, holding his hands out in a placating gesture, but Bryn only growled.
“Cut the crap, Jace!” She stepped toward the drawing-room door, scared she might lose her mind if she was kept in the slowly shrinking room full of people.
“Your mother might think you are dead just like you thought she was.” Sage tried to intervene, reaching out for Bryn, but her nerves were too raw for the touch.
Bryn needed to tear into something or strike out at someone. She knew she was far too dangerous to be around her friends for much longer.
“Does she know I am alive?” Bryn growled, her voice gruff, as she turned back to look at Danu.
“I am unsure, but as of when you left, yes. She knew.”
Declan ran a hand over his face.
“For the sake of self-preservation, Danu, the answer was no,” Declan grumbled.
Danu shook her head before looking back at Bryn.
“She knew whose soul resided inside of you, Bryn, and knew who you would eventually become. That she would have to let you go.”
Bryn didn’t care why. All that mattered was how she’d suffered without any parent to look out for her all the while her mother lived freely away from the hellish place she’d resigned her daughter to.
“So she didn’t care that I was alive, her daughter. Didn’t care that I was taken to some rotting city in the desert. All she knows for sure is that I am some goddess wearing her daughter’s face. Well, that makes me feelso much better!”
Bryn barreled her way out of Niamh’s, ignoring the voices calling out to her from the drawing room as she ran out onto the road heading toward her apartment.
The anger was burrowing deeper into her marrow as she got closer to the apartments she shared with her tormentor. Knowing Mallory was nearby, her skull thrummed with the beat of her heart. A vicious part of her demanded she take every ounce of anger out on Mallory like the woman had done to her foryears,but logically she knew she should avoid her aunt.
It was no good for her, or the rest of the Tuatha Dé Danann, to look for more trouble.
Focusing on the whiskey she’d hid in the trunk full of dresses in her room, she planned to lock herself in and get drunk enough to pass out.
Ignoring the growing chill in the air, she let her anger warm her. Her focus was on her rage and her destination that she stumbled, almost falling, when Kian appeared in front of her.
“Don’t borrow trouble, Bryn. It is a volatile state this town is in right now.”
Her laughter carried down the street, a few of the merchants closing up shop shooting her looks.
Not the fearful looks of a crazy lady laughing in the street, but one that told her they saw her as the enemy. That they were counting down the moments until her blood was spilled in the sand.
Walking around Kian, she ignored him, thankful that he was too ghostly for the people to actually see in the waning light. Hell, she could barely see him.
The fact that he was warning her like someone who actually cared for her well-being made her angrier. He wanted to kill her himself as he thought he was due vengeance, not because he gave a shit about her as a person.
Tearing through the clinic, Bryn stomped up the stairs to her apartment, standing at the top, looking between her place and Mallory’s.
Biting back the urge to barrel into Mallory’s apartment, Bryn started toward her own when Mallory’s door opened behind her. Bryn slowly turned to face her aunt.
If I am supposed to be the Morrigan, then why do I fear this mortal woman so much?
