They were about to learn that some cages couldn’t hold what lived inside them.
And just how fucking sharp a raven’s claws could be.
23
KREED
Iwoke up cold.
Not just physically, but the type of cold that sinks into your marrow and tells you something’s wrong before your brain has even caught up. The taste in my mouth was wrong, bitter and chemical, like I’d been sucking on pennies. My arm stretched across the sheets, my fingers searching through the rumpled fabric for her.
Empty.
No Kaylor.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. I sat up fast, the sudden movement making my head whirl as my chest already began compressing with a familiar panic. The bedroom was still dark, pale moonlight trying to bleed through the heavy curtains, casting everything in shades of gray and shadow, but all I saw was the twisted bedding where she should have been and the gaping absence of her presence, no indent in the pillow, no lingering warmth, nothing.
Where was she? And how the hell did I get upstairs? My thoughts moved through thick fog, memories fragmented andunclear. I vaguely remembered Kaylor helping me as I stumbled around in the middle of the night, legs heavy as lead, and falling into bed with her.
It was unusual that Kaylor woke before me, mostly because I hardly seemed to sleep these days. My internal clock had been shot to hell for weeks, hypervigilance keeping me on edge even when exhaustion threatened to drag me under.
A part of me longed to roll back over and continue sleeping, to sink back into the merciful oblivion that had claimed me. God knew I freaking needed it, every muscle in my body aching with a bone-deep fatigue that came from running on fumes and adrenaline, but there was this whisper in my ear, insistent and urgent, urging me to find her. I was never one to ignore those little nudges of intuition; they’d saved my life too many times to count.
Something felt off, and I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep until I knew she was safe.
I shoved off the covers with more force than necessary, the fabric tangling around my ankles as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I yanked on a hoodie from the chair nestled in the corner, the soft cotton still carrying the faint traces of her perfume. I glanced at the bathroom, but the door was wide-open, darkness yawning beyond the threshold. No water running. No shower steam. No little raven.
“Kaylor?” I called out, my voice bouncing off the empty walls as I moved into the hall. The sound came back to me hollow and unanswered, making the house feel even more cavernous than usual.
I wandered from room to room, poking my head into each doorway before trotting downstairs. The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked with metronomic precision, each second stretching like an eternity. Nothing. Kitchen—empty, coffee maker cold and unused. Library—empty, books sittingundisturbed on their shelves. The air itself felt different, charged with an absence that made my skin crawl.
Family room.
Not empty, but no freaking Kaylor.
My gut twisted like someone had reached in and grabbed my intestines with both hands. Two of my brothers were sprawled across the couches in various states of unconsciousness. Something was very, very wrong.
I kicked the couch Maddox was sprawled on, my foot connecting with the leather hard enough to make the whole thing shake and squeak. “Get the fuck up,” I growled, my voice rough with sleep and growing unease.
Maddox groaned, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. His dark hair was plastered to one side of his head, and there were pillow lines pressed into his cheek. He blinked slowly, pupils dilated and unfocused. “The hell, man?” he mumbled, squinting up at me through barely open eyes.
“She’s gone.” My voice sliced through the drowsy atmosphere. “Kaylor’s gone.”
That got them moving… Or trying to.
Raine was already up, his legs swinging over the side of the other couch with the fluid motion of someone whose body was used to snapping to attention, but even he moved slower than usual. He ran his fingers through his disheveled onyx hair, the strands sticking up at odd angles, as Mason stumbled into the room. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and he kept blinking like he was trying to clear his vision, one hand braced against the door frame for support.
“What is all the fucking ruckus?” Mason mumbled, rubbing sleep from his face with the back of his hand. “It’s the damn middle of the night.”
He wasn’t half wrong. A quick glance at the TV showed the time in glowing blue digits—4:47 AM. We were teeteringbetween really late or really fucking early, depending on your outlook. But the wrongness in my chest told me this wasn’t about inconvenient timing.
“What do you mean, gone?” Maddox asked, pushing himself up to a sitting position. His movements were sluggish, and he gripped the couch arm for leverage.
“I can’t fucking find her. That’s what I mean. She isn’t anywhere in the house.” The first tendrils of real fear began to wrap around my heart.
“Did you check with Evan?” Raine asked, already reaching for his phone. His fingers fumbled with the screen, taking two tries to unlock it.
“Not yet, but my guess, they haven’t seen her.” I watched as he scrolled through his contacts, fighting against the sluggishness that seemed to have claimed all of us.