Page 20 of Raisa's Cursed Ravens
The moment footsteps sound in the stairwell, the air sharpens, the cold growing teeth. It takes three slow, terrible heartbeats before I hear the angry slap of Father’s boots on the landing. There’s a metal scrape, a pause, and then the tower door swings open with the violence of a storm.
He fills the threshold, every inch of space consumed by his body, his shadow, and the unyielding force of his gaze.
“Get up,” he says, not even looking at me, but at the corner of the ceiling where water stains make the shape of a shattered star.
I’m already sitting, my back braced against the stone wall, my feet tucked under my nightgown, but I stand anyway. It seems safer, for reasons I’m too tired to name.
He closes the door behind him, and the little bit of the world outside that spilled in vanishes. He stands with his hands behind his back, his jaw clenched tight enough to snap his molars. The gray in his hair looks like steel tonight, and his eyes reflect nothing.
“You saw them,” he says. It’s not a question.
I glance at the window, where a pale thumbprint of moon slants in. “Saw who?”
He moves so fast I barely have time to flinch before he’s in front of me, the smell of gold and old leather clinging to him. “Don’t toy with me, Raisa.”
I look at the stones. “The men in the forest?”
He exhales through his nose, a sound like a growl. “What did they say to you?”
The lie comes easily, even if my voice shakes. “Nothing. They scared me.”
His hand slams against the wall beside my head, the bones of his knuckles whitening with force. “Don’t lie to me. Do you know who they are?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I had the courage to scream back. “No. I’ve never seen them before.” That part is mostly true. My dreams are my own, one secret I get to keep.
Father draws back, runs a hand through his hair, pacing the three steps it takes to cross my cell. “There are things outside this castle you don’t understand,” he says. “There are people who would kill you, Raisa.”
I don’t believe him. Not about the killing. Not about who and what I should fear. If anything, I think I was safer out there with them than I am in this room with him.
He turns, his eyes boring into me. “Did they touch you?”
My cheeks burn, but I refuse to answer.
Father leans closer, pinning me in place with the heat of his gaze. “Did they know your name?”
I hesitate, and that’s enough.
“Gods,” he hisses, turning away. He puts both hands on the little table in the corner and squeezes the edge until the wood creaks. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
My heart hammers. I think of the way they looked at me, the way their eyes held something that wasn’t just hunger, but memory. Recognition.
“What does it matter?” I ask, my voice shaking more than I want it to. “Why are you so afraid of them?”
His head whips around. “Because they’re monsters, Raisa. Killers. They want to destroy everything I’ve built. Everything I’ve protected you from.”
A flash of memory hits. Black wings. Father’s hand like a shackle around my arm. My defiant scream echoing through the garden. The sound of my own furious breath as seven pairs of curious eyes lock on mine.
I don’t know what it means, but I know what Father offers isn’t protection. It’s a cage of lies.
“They didn’t hurt me,” I whisper.
He takes a step forward, his fists clenching at his sides. “You don’t know what they’re capable of.” The words have a jagged edge, every syllable punctured with some secret I’ll never understand. Ignorance breeds complacency, and he likes me complacent.
“Then tell me,” I say. “Tell me what you know.”
For the first time, he hesitates. There’s something almost like pity in his face, but it sours into anger before I can name it.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
