Page 53 of Ravaging Red
The first night, we slept under the open sky, wrapped in my fur, her breath warm against my throat.
“I’ve never seen stars like this,” she whispered.
I kissed her temple. “They burn differently here.”
The world changed as we moved deeper into the realm.
The trees thickened, growing taller, their trunks twisting toward the sky like limbs aching for freedom. Some bled sap the color of rust. Others whispered in voices no one should ever hear. The ground pulsed beneath our feet, alive in ways the human world had long forgotten. Moss glowed faintly blue beneath our steps, and dark-eyed birds with bone-colored wings watched us from the canopies, never blinking. Probably wondering what a monster and a human were doing on this path.
We crossed rivers that ran black as ink, stepping over stones etched with runes older than the Council. Time didn’t move the same here. The moon hung like a wound overhead, never rising too high, never dipping too low. Everything was waiting.Watching.
On the second day, we came across two ogres.
They stood just off the main path, near a smoking fire, their tusks gleaming, their yellow eyes narrowing as we passed. Both were enormous, their skin green, mottled and cracked, clothes barely more than hides wrapped around tree-trunk limbs.
And both carried a scent I didn’t expect.
Human.
Female.
The scent of human arousal clung to their skin, faint but unmistakable. I growled low in my throat as we passed, and they didn’t challenge me. Just grinned, sharp and knowing.
I gripped Red's hand tightly. "They have a human," I whispered to her.
“A human?” Red whispered near my ear, shuddering as she took a glance at them, quickly looking at her feet.
“Yes,” I murmured. “Ogres take mates sometimes. Not often. Not publicly. But I never thought they would be able to take a human. You can smell it on them, and I don't think they're a prisoner, yet I don't think they're with them of their own free will."
Red went quiet, and I felt her fingers tighten around me. She took a quick glance back and when she turned, a worried look furrowed her brow.
“What is it, my pet?”
“I thought I saw something I recognized, but…” She shook her head. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
She stopped on the path, seeming to want to go back as she bit down on her bottom lip. “Do you want us to go back?”
“No,” she said quickly, gripping my arm. “I’m just seeing things. When we’re done with all this, I want you to meet someone.”
“Oh?” I smiled. “And who might that be?”
“A friend,” she whispered, taking another glance behind us before continuing on the path.
That night, we made camp beneath a hollowed tree, its bark smooth as bone. Red sat close to the fire while I kept watch.
“Don’t speak to anything that speaks in rhyme. Don’t take food unless I give it to you. And if something offers you a wish…run.” I warned her.
"Why? She quickly asked, and I was coming to realize that with Red it was best to give her an explanation when I gave out an order. She wasn't the type to listen without a reason. Rebellious little female.
“Because rhyme is a trap. The ones that speak it are bound to rules older than thought. They don’t lie, but their truths are wrapped in riddles, and if you answer incorrectly, they’ll take something of yours. Your voice. Your name. Your memories. You’ll bleed and never know where the wound came from.”
She shivered, wrapping the cloak tighter.
“And wishes?” she asked.
“Wishes are worse,” I said. “No one gives without taking. And in the Hollow realm, what they take is never what you think. You ask for love and lose your face. Ask for strength and forget your name. Don’t wish for anything, Red. You already have everything that matters.”
