Page 79 of Raisa's Cursed Ravens
I drop to my knees in the center of their battered circle, ignoring the grit and blood. “But I need you with me,” I say, looking at each of them in turn. “All of you. My heart belongs to seven, not one.”
And it’s because of them—all seven of them—that I’m not afraid anymore. I don’t care what the magic wants. Or what myfather wants. I don’t care if I’m a monster, created in a womb of death and dark magic. I still have a choice. I decide what my future looks like. I decide when I heal or kill or if I tear the world apart.
My hands shake as I reach for the men who plucked me from my cage and rebuilt me in the ruins of my father’s lies. “I’d rather die fighting for our freedom than spend the rest of my life running from the man who created us.”
For a long time, nobody moves.
Then Onyx kneels, cupping my hand in his. “My life for yours,” he whispers.
Rune drops next, pressing his forehead to my shoulder. “Let’s burn the world,” he says, and I laugh, because I know he means it.
Bran slides in, wrapping his arms around me and Onyx both. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Raisa.”
Grim crouches at my back, his mouth at my ear. “We’re monsters,” he reminds me, but the words are soft, almost loving.
“I know,” I say, reaching behind to take his hand. “And sooner or later, every monster turns on the one who created it.”
Talon shoves Sable into the circle, then kneels himself, his eyes wet and his jaw trembling. “Don’t ever do that again,” he says to me, to Sable, to himself, I’m not sure.
Sable, bruised and weak, crawls the last few inches, folding into the group. He lays his head on my lap, his breath warm on my thigh.
“Told you there were other things to worry about,” he says, and this time, there’s no joke in it.
Shade is last, as always. He stands over us for a moment, his arms crossed, eyes storm-dark and unreadable. For a second, I think he’ll deny me or walk away. But then he drops, hard, the motion rattling all of us. He grabs my face in both hands, his grip rough and real.
“You’re insane,” he tells me, his voice flat.
I nod. “So are you.”
His mouth twitches, the ghost of a smile. “We stand or fall together. No more running.”
“Good,” I say. “I’m done hiding.”
The seven of them—eight, with me—make a perfect circle, bodies pressed close, blood and sweat and tears mingling on our skin.
Something shifts in the air. I feel it—magic, but not just mine. It’s all of us, a knot of power and pain and need that thrums through the clearing like a living thing.
We stay like that for a long time, clinging to one another, daring the world to break us apart.
When we finally rise, the air is different.
The trees seem to bow, the earth pulsing with new energy. The wounds on our bodies are already scabbing over, faster than they should.
Sable walks on his own, bruised but upright.
Shade’s eyes are bright, clear, no hint of the old shadows.
We gather what’s left of our supplies and set out, not running, not hiding.
For the first time, I know exactly what I am.
And I know where I’m going.
14
Branded as Mine
Raisa
