Page 78 of Raisa's Cursed Ravens
I close my eyes, listening to their breathing, feeling the weight of their bodies pressed close.
We’re alive. All of us.
The forest is quiet. The dead are quiet. But my brothers—my monsters—are louder than the gods.
Onyx, Rune, and Talondrag the bodies into a heap and torch them, the stench of burning hair and cloth rolling through the trees.
Shade paces the perimeter, scanning for survivors, his jaw clenched so tight it looks like his teeth might shatter.
Bran sits next to Sable, wiping blood from his face and muttering curses under his breath.
Grim kneels by my feet, picking dried gore from his nails with meticulous, almost delicate precision.
My own hands are raw. I stare at them, flexing my fingers, watching the tremor that won’t go away.
I want to sleep. I want to sleep forever. But every time I close my eyes, I see the men I killed—their faces, the way their bodies fell, the sound of their last breaths.
The brothers crowd around me, forming a wall of heat and sweat and clotted wounds. It should feel safe, but the air is taut, every word and movement sharpened to a cutting edge.
“We can’t stay here,” Shade says, his voice clipped. “They’ll send more. We need to move.”
“We’re not in any shape to run,” Bran snaps, glaring at Shade like he wants to bite him. “Half of us are bleeding, and Raisa–” His voice breaks, softening. “She needs rest.”
“She needs to stay alive,” Shade retorts. “And that means not sitting around waiting to be slaughtered.”
Grim looks up from his hands, his eyes flat and empty. “We split up. Maybe Raisa and one of us. The rest scatter, draw them off.”
Onyx shakes his head. “We’re stronger together.”
“Not if we’re all dead,” Grim spits.
The argument spirals, their voices getting louder, teeth bared.
Sable stirs, blinking awake, and tries to sit up. Talon gets to him first, pinning him back with one massive hand.
“This is your fault,” he snarls, his voice vibrating with rage. “You and your fucking self-flagellation. If you’d listened, if you’d stayed with the group–”
Sable coughs, red and wet, but manages a shaky smile. “Nice to see you too, Talon.”
Talon bares his teeth, his fingers tightening on Sable’s collarbone. “You nearly got her killed. You nearly got us all killed.”
“Enough.” My own voice shocks me. It’s not a scream, not even a shout. It’s low, cold, and final, like a blade slicing through the fog.
I step forward, wobbling a little, but Onyx moves to steady me. His hand is gentle, anchoring, and I lean into it, borrowing the last of his strength.
“I’m tired of running,” I say. “Tired of hiding. Tired of pretending like this isn’t a war we can win.”
My brothers watch, silent now, their eyes bright and hungry.
“We’re not going to splinter and fade away, not after everything we’ve been through,” I continue. “I love all of you. Every one of you. Even when you’re cruel, even when you’re monsters and killers, even when you make mistakes.” I look at Sable, then at Talon, then Shade, letting them see that I mean every word. “We’re going to end this, even if we have to break the whole damn world to do it.”
Bran’s lips tremble.
Shade blinks, once, twice, as if he doesn’t believe what he’s hearing.
Sable’s eyes go soft, the smirk melting off his face.
I press forward, needing them to believe it as much as I do. “If we run, if we hide, we die tired and alone. If we stand together, we can be more than the weak, cowering creatures he made us. We can be family. We can be free.”
