Page 38 of Ravaging Red
Clearing my throat, I tried to ignore her movements as best I could. “To the West, buried beneath moss and bone, the Ogres roam the Mirelands. It’s a sinking world of bogs, caves, and twisted wood. Their dens are carved into the mountains. There are hollowed-out pits lined with stone, furs, and the broken remains of things they’ve stolen. Most of them are smugglers and hoarders. Black-market kings. No laws reign for the Ogres, just dominance and greed.
“I guess that’s why they’re green,” she murmured, and I let out a bark of laughter, shocking her. Before she could say anything, I kept going.
“Deep in the woods there’s a cottage of Bear Shifters that lies hidden. You wouldn’t find it unless you are meant to. It smells like pine sap and marked flesh. Those brothers don’t speak of their past. They don’t need to. Rumors say that they were once princes of some golden realm. Now they are monsters hiding from crowns and curses.”
My eyes turned upward. Looming over us, carved into the mountains sat a cathedral made of crystals and stained glass. Highstone Hollow was the domain of the Council and their Dragons. The dragons themselves didn’t crawl at the Council’s feet. They were massive, winged immortals who ruled by their side. Their perch was a kingdom made of fire and steel. Their chamber was rimmed with thrones too large for men, with runes etched into every stone block to hold back any black magic or curses sent their way. They watched everything. Claimed to protect everything. But even they were afraid of what lived beneath their reach.
We were what the Council had named us, the Veilborn. But in truth we were the Veilbound. Bound to be slaves to this cursed eternity.
“Be careful, Red.” I warned her. “These monsters aren’t what they seem. They were exiled for a reason. Traitorous, carnal beasts, who are former gods and failed kings. Some ran, some rebelled, and some of us were hunters who became hunted. Others are simply too wild to chain. Every creature in the Hollow has a story carved in darkness. None of us are pure. Some came here to hide, others came to feast.
And some of us…Some of us came looking for solitude and found something we didn’t realize we had lost. For the one thing no magic, no mark, no curse could take away from us.”
“What’s that?” She asked innocently.
I looked at her, curling a fiery strand of hair around my claw. “A mate.”
I watched as her cheeks grew red, and my cock stirred beneath her. Her eyes widened and she looked up at me, a look of shock and arousal encompassing her pretty features.
“The Hollow may seem like a solace where no desire goes unpunished. But with the Blood Moon rising again, and the oldmagic awakening, the barrier between our world and yours is as thin and delicate as a soft breath.”
I looked out into the distance, suddenly overwhelmed with a presence of evil. I had a gut feeling that something ancient was coming, and we were all going to bleed for it.
Chapter 15
Maw Market
RAEL
Maw Market was alive and bustling. Its crooked stalls, draped in canvases that were stitched from flayed hides and enchanted silk, lined the path. The air reeked of iron, smoke, roasting meat, spoiled breath, and of course, magic. The air shimmered with warding symbols, protection charms, curses nailed to the stalls wooden beams.
The creatures that roamed its broken lanes were older than nightmares. Some still bore faces, others had long long surrendered to their truer forms of shifting bone and massive skeletal structures. Dragon-blooded merchants hissed in lost dialects, scales twitching beneath silk robes as they bartered over jewels that had surely been stolen by the Orcs from the Shardspire Hollow. They lived within those ravines, so deep they pierced into the world’s core. The gems dug there rotted the hearts of those who stole them, turning them bitter and unable to see their love. Which explained the Orcs' grim nature.
Red stepped closer to me as we approached the next stall. She was finally hedging my warning.
Hulking shadow-beasts with branching antlers moved around us, they dragged sacks of breathing hides behind them. Half-living pets that twitched at the sound of a coin. They traded the beings for crystal vials filled with moans, harvested from sinners in their final pleasures. Children’s laughter dripped from lanterns overhead, trailing down in syrupy giggles that never quite touched the ground. Windchimes made of teeth whispered secrets in tongues no longer spoken. A headless vendor in a long red coat whispered "come closer" from the mouths stitched into his chest. And somewhere above, something huge screamed from the rafters of a booth. The sound was agonizing, but no one dared to look up.
Red stayed beside me, clutching my hand so tight it ached.
Smart girl.
My arm tightened around her waist, dragging her closer, making the message clear that she was spoken for. Her scent was wrapped in mine. Her hips still trembled from my knot. Maw Market respected possession more than they did affection. Love was weakness. Lust, pain, and power, those ruled here. I didn’t come looking for bloodshed, but I would open throats if any of them tested me.
At first, she didn’t say a word. Her eyes just drank in every grotesque thing around her, they were darting everywhere, wild but not scared. She watched and dissected everything around her. The colors, the noise, the chaos, it gripped her, it was all new to her. She would never see anything else like it.
Witches stood behind tables made of animal bones. Their blood-inked sigils seeped through parchments that were made from shed human memories. They sold jars of madness corked with black wax, hexes bottled in black jars, and candles in an array of colors. Their eyes wept black blood which they smeared across buyers' palms in silent rituals of binding.
We’d barely gotten past the stall when a raspy voice purred through the crowd.
“Well, what do we have here...?”
I turned fast, pulling Red behind me with a low growl that vibrated through my chest. My claws flexed instinctively. The crowd parted, not because they were afraid, no, but because they wanted to see what was going to happen. My glare cut through the swarm of bodies until I found her.
The witch stood cloaked in a tattered violet cloak, lined with black feathers. Her eyes glowed a dim yellow from within deep-set sockets. Her teeth were too white, her mouth too wide. Black stained lips stretched into something that looked to be a smile. But brought more terror than ease. Her face was carved with symbols, her hair hanging in knotted ropes hiding her face.
She wasn’t just any market hag. She was one of the Cursed Ones. Witches with remnants of a humanity that was warped by black magic. They were once high priestesses, seers, blood-bound witches of forgotten covens. Women who delved too deep into forbidden spells, and who bartered their souls for power to demons who had refused their gifts, ruining them in the process. They answered to no one but the Hollow itself. And they were so powerful, even the Council feared them. So they were banished to the outer reaches of the Veil.
Now, they lived in the hidden realms, only appearing in places of power like the Maw Market. They were drawn by chaos, lust, and change. They smelled fate like I scented blood in the air. They spoke in riddles, cursed with whispers, and carried with them the spells of their covens, enchanted moonlight, and harvested screams. Each one bore visible marks of their curse. Some had no mouths but spoke in dreams, others had weeping wounds that never healed, and the darkest ones left behind a coat of ash with every step they took.
