Page 27 of Raisa's Cursed Ravens
We run until the only thing I can taste is the burn of cold air in my throat and the blood pounding in my ears.
Raisa keeps pace, barely a step behind, her breath quickening in sharp little gasps that sound half pain and half delight. Every curve shows beneath the damp fabric of her nightgown, and it takes everything I have not to stop and press her to a tree, to bite her shoulder and drink down every sound she makes.
But I know the others are waiting, as wild and impatient as I am.
The path winds deeper into Fable Forest, where the trees grow tight together and the night feels twice as thick. I move with confidence, guiding her over roots and under branches, never letting go of her hand for more than a heartbeat.
The further we go, the more the woods change. The air grows warmer, almost humid. The ground softens with moss and old leaves, the scent of wildflowers threading through the rot.
I feel the others closing in. Not by sound—they’re hunters—but by the heat in the air, the slow-blooming pressure that always gathers when we’re all together. Like a storm preparing to break.
I glance back. Raisa’s hair is a mess, twigs caught in the long black strands, her cheeks flushed. There’s a wild shine in her eyes I haven’t seen before.
“You’re not afraid?” I ask, my voice pitched low so it doesn’t carry.
She shakes her head, not trusting her voice. I want to believe her, but her hand trembles in mine.
We cut through a tangle of low-slung branches and find ourselves in a clearing. Six shadows ring the space, black and patient, their eyes shining like coals.
One by one, my brothers step forward.
Shade is first, of course. He moves with the arrogant, careful gait of a man who’s never lost a fight, his arms across his chest. The moon casts the hard lines of his face into sharp relief, and the smile he gives Raisa is nothing but teeth.
“We’ve been waiting,” he says, his voice a command even when he tries for gentle.
Raisa freezes. I feel her pulse spike under my fingers, but she doesn’t step back. If anything, she leans forward, searching his face like she’s reading a page she’s seen a hundred times.
Grim is next, sliding out from behind the trunk of an ancient birch. He’s less a man and more a shadow, his hair loose aroundhis face, his hands curled at his sides. He watches her with a hunger so raw it’s a wonder he doesn’t drool.
Onyx and Rune move together, side by side, but opposites in every way. Onyx is huge and silent, his presence steady and heavy as stone. Rune is all restless movement, tattooed arms flashing as he dips into a mock bow.
Talon hangs back, but his eyes never leave Raisa. He looks like he’s barely containing himself, muscles bunched and ready. Sable is last, dropping from a tree with a showy roll and straightening up with a cocky grin.
I feel my lip curl. He always did like an entrance.
The circle closes, each brother falling into their old roles without a word. I pull Raisa behind me, not to shield her, but because I don’t trust myself to let go.
Shade’s gaze pins her. “Did you miss us, Princess?”
She licks her lips, swallowing hard. “I…don’t know if I ever had the chance.”
Grim moves in, slow and deliberate. He studies her the way a wolf studies a meal, more interested in how she’ll taste than what she’ll say. “You’re different than I remember,” he rasps, his voice like gravel.
He isn’t wrong. She’s brighter out here, as if the oppressive weight of the castle no longer clings to her, diluting her magic. As if Gallagher’s dark magic no longer roils against her, trying to twist her into obedience.
She lifts her chin, fear replaced with something hotter. “So are you.”
I feel a sick twist of jealousy, my hand tightening at her waist. She leans into the pressure, a silent reminder that she’s just as much mine as anyone’s.
Onyx steps forward and offers her his coat, draping it over her shoulders with a gentle touch that seems too soft for hands his size. “You’ll catch a cold,” he murmurs.
She thanks him with a shy nod.
Rune doesn’t speak, just studies her with those silver eyes, his head cocked, as if he’s listening to some secret frequency only he can hear. Talon prowls the edge of the clearing, never still, but I know he’s waiting for the right moment to pounce. Sable just grins and gives Raisa a wink.
There’s a beat of silence, as heavy as a held breath.
She looks around, seeing all of us for the first time since the night she slipped outside the walls. I can almost see the thoughts flickering through her mind—curiosity, fear, longing, defiance. It’s a beautiful thing, watching her try to decide which urge to follow.
