Page 13 of Raisa's Cursed Ravens
His eyes are impossible to read, but I sense that everything in this clearing happens because he allows it. He’s the force that holds the others together.
He finally uncrosses his arms, taking one slow step toward me. The air gets warmer, or maybe that’s just the way my body reacts to his presence.
“Because we protect what’s ours, and you are ours,” he says, his voice so deep I feel it in my bones.
Something in me wants to agree, but I’m my father’s daughter, even if I hate him, too stubborn to give in easily. If I did, I wouldn’t spend so much of my time locked in the tower.
“No,” I say, but it’s the weakest denial I’ve ever uttered.
Shade’s mouth curves, not quite a smile. “You can lie to yourself, Princess, but not to us. We know you feel us in your bones, the same way we feel you.”
The others close ranks around me, not threatening, but enclosing, making it clear I couldn’t leave if I tried.
Bran softens, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. His touch is so gentle it undoes me.
“Why me?” I whisper, choking on the words. “Why not someone else?”
Rune answers, eyes gleaming silver in the moonlight. “Because you’re special.”
Onyx, silent until now, nods. “We need you, Raisa.”
“For what?”
Bran doesn’t hesitate. “To finish what you started.”
“I…I don’t understand.”
Grim’s voice is a whisper, half-kind, half-cruel. “Magic listens in this forest, Princess. You should be careful what you wish for.”
I’ve wished for so many things, wanted so many things. Is he trying to tell me that they’re the forest’s way of answering? That it…brought them to me?
They close in before I can find an answer, and I realize with a thrill that I want them to. I want to feel their hands on me, want to lose myself in whatever they’re offering. Iwantthem to be my answer.
It’s not what a princess should want. It’s not what I should want. But I do anyway.
I try to back away, but my feet catch on the roots of the tree, and I stumble. Bran catches me, steadying me with one hand on my waist. Grim is at my shoulder, his fingers sliding over the bare skin there. Talon moves to block my path, grinning, and Sable darts in close, his breath hot on my neck.
I’m surrounded, pressed in on all sides, their bodies nothing but heat, muscle, and hunger. My lungs can’t pull enough air. My skin is on fire.
Shade waits until I’m hemmed in, then takes my chin in his hand and tips my face up.
I can’t look away. I don’t want to.
His grip is gentle, but there’s no mistaking the power behind it. He drinks me in, and for a second, I think I see something in his eyes, something desperate and old and so lonely it breaks my heart.
“Don’t be afraid,” he says again. This time, it’s a plea.
He slides his hand into my hair, fisting it at the nape.
I gasp, the pain sharp but not unwelcome. My mouth falls open, and I wait, trembling, for his lips to crush mine.
I wait for the world to end.
It does, but not the way I expect.
Just as his lips brush mine, there’s a roar—steel on steel, shouts echoing through the trees. The clearing explodes in chaos. Dozens of men, armor clattering and swords raised, pour from the darkness, lanterns swinging in their fists.
“Princess Raisa!” someone roars. “Get away from her!”
