Page 33 of Raisa's Cursed Ravens
“You’re ours,” I say, the words a promise and a warning. “And we’re yours.”
She nods, but her eyes are already slipping closed again. “I like that,” she murmurs.
The others settle, each one drawing closer to her as if by gravity. We arrange ourselves around her, shielding her from the wind, from the night, from whatever might come hunting.
For the first time, I don’t feel the curse whispering at me, demanding a return to wing and feather. For once, it’s silent, not broken but…humbled, its power tempered by hers.
Shade glances over, his eyes meeting mine. There’s no challenge there, no rivalry. Just acceptance. Maybe even respect.
“We move before dawn,” he says. “The king will come for her then.”
“Let him come,” Sable mutters, his face buried in Raisa’s hair.
Grim’s voice is sharp as a knife. “He won’t take her.”
Talon finally settles, dropping to the moss at Raisa’s feet, his huge body curved around her calves like a shield. Rune shifts closer, tracing idle shapes over her ankle with an inked fingertip.
No one mentions what’s changed in the air, but I know they feel it too—the curse is different now, less like a shackle and more like a song. My blood runs lighter, my body hums with power and something almost like joy.
I look at Raisa, and I know she’s the cause.
She is the answer to every question we ever asked. The end to every hunger.
But I know, even as I hold her, that it won’t be enough to shatter it entirely. Not yet.
We need her heart as much as her body. More than that, I want her to love us, to need us, to never even think of leaving. I want to be the center of her world, as she’s become the center of ours.
The others want it, too. I see it in their faces, in the way their hands linger on her skin, in the way they watch me when they think I’m not looking. We’re all greedy. We’re all monsters.
But we’re her monsters.
And we’ll tear apart the world and dance on its bones before we let her go.
7
Feathers in the Dark
Raisa
We don’t sleep long.The night is restless and raw, and every nerve in my body is flayed open, every muscle still quivering through aftershocks. I drift in and out, cocooned in the heat of their bodies, the thrum of their heartbeats a lullaby that never quite lets me go under.
I wake tangled between Bran and Onyx, the former snoring softly into my hair, the latter a granite wall against my back, his hand splayed over my hip like he’s afraid I might evaporate.
There’s a moment—just a moment—where I think it was all a fever dream, that I’ll wake up in the tower to the same tiny square of sky and the same cracked pitcher of water, as trapped as ever. But the ache between my thighs, the bruises blooming up and down my skin, and the impossible warmth of being held banish the thought instantly.
We lie there for a few more heartbeats, savoring the world before it can ruin us again.
Then Shade is up, standing at the edge of the clearing, scanning the horizon. He’s still naked, his body coiled and perfect, but even now there’s an impatience to him, like he’s already fighting the next battle in his mind. He barks an order, and the others come awake in a single, practiced motion.
“We need to move,” he says, his voice low but intense.
Talon is already up, stretching and flexing every muscle like he’s daring the trees to take him on.
Sable rolls to his feet in a single, lazy motion, his eyes already razor-sharp, as if he were already awake.
Grim wakes silently, his eyes opening before the rest of his face even registers awareness.
Rune just blinks at the light, like he’s never seen a sunrise before, then grins at nothing.
