Page 52 of Ravaging Red
“Does it matter?” She knelt beside me, scooting close as I sat up to meet her.
“It does. If they sense any weakness, they can prey on that.”
“I belong here. You told me that you sensed it. I sensed it too, Rael. I felt it in my body, in my heart, I just didn’t want to accept it but I never rejected you. You’re a monster, yes. But you’re my monster and I choose you.”
She said the words so fiercely that I pulled her against me, burying my face in her hair as her hand stroked over my chest.
“I am yours and you are mine. Also, I‘m a lot fiercer than you seem to think I am.”
She looked up at me then. “Let them even try to take my family away from me, and I will become a different type of monster. One so feral, that they will regret getting in our way.”
I held her tight, and for the first time since this all began, I realized what true love was. It was a passionate connection, one that made you strong, and filled you with a violence so profound, so protective, that it took your breath away. It was also this… someone to callhome.
They could try to control us, attempt to tear us apart, but if they thought we’d just stand by and take our punishment, they had another thing coming.
Chapter 21
Treacherous Trails
RAEL
We left at dawn the next morning.
Red wore a new dress, soft and flowing, cinched at the waist by a cord I’d braided from leather. Her red cloak hugged her shoulders, the hood drawn low as the morning wind swept through the trees. The blue scarf I’d given her was wrapped loosely around her neck, and the silver and crimson bracelet I had given her, shimmered on her wrist. Her hair was loose and looked like wildfire. She was my mate, my equal, and my reason.
I wasn’t dressed in much. A thick, black linen wrap tied at the waist, slung low around my hips, reinforced with old hide and a blade sheath sewn into the fold. My chest was bare, the scars of past fights exposed to the air, my body marked by time and war. From my pack, I pulled a folded cloak, dark blue, the fabric was aged but strong, the gold emblem of my house stitched into the corner, the symbol of a dark past.
Red’s eyes narrowed as I draped it across my shoulders. “That looks important,” she said.
I shrugged. “It’s just protocol. The Council likes their old customs. This was my father’s. His seal. I left that name a long time ago.”
She stepped closer, fingertips brushing the edge of the cloak. “But you kept it.”
“I keep a lot of things,” I murmured. “Doesn’t mean I serve them.”
I didn’t tell her everything. I didn’t tell her that the gold seal stitched into the fabric belonged to one of the oldest bloodlines in the Hollow. That my father was once High Fang of the Hollow Court. That I, Rael of House Mavryn, was born to lead monsters, not run with them.
But I never wanted a throne. I never wanted to sit in some ancient keep, ruling over creatures who respected blood more than merit. I was a fighter, a hunter, a beast carved by instinct and rage, not diplomacy.
When I challenged my father’s way, when I refused the Rite of Binding that would have locked me to a Council chosen mate, I walked away from it all. Left my name, my House, my claim.
But they never truly let me go.
The Council might see my return as an opportunity to try and leash me again. To use my House as a way to gain control. If they can't tear Red from me with law, they might try to exploit legacy and twist honor into a weapon, forcing my obedience through bloodline.
And if they do…
They’ll learn just how far I’ve fallen from grace. And how dangerous that fall has made me.
She didn’t press further. Just nodded, her eyes lingering a second longer before slipping her hand back into mine.
We packed light, but carefully. Bread wrapped in cloth, a handful of sweet berries, dried fruit, salted meat. I added a flask of water, small bundles of magical herbs, flint, and the oldcoin pouch I never traveled without. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get us to the High Hollow.
I crouched low, and Red climbed onto my back, her arms wrapped tight around my shoulders, her legs curling against my sides. She weighed nothing. Not to me. I could have carried her through flames and flood for all I cared.
The journey would take three days. Three days through the realm. Three days with my mate exposed.
I carried her most of the way, not just because I wanted to, but because I had to. Her human legs weren’t made for the terrain. We crossed thorn-choked forests, twisted paths that disappeared into mist, bogs that whispered names no one should ever answer.
