Page 18 of Raisa's Cursed Ravens
I screamed, but my voice came out wrong, like a bird’s cry.
All around me, my brothers were changing too. Some tried to fight, to claw the feathers out. It only made it worse.
We tore apart the throne room, blinded by pain and panic. No one tried to help. The king simply watched, not making a sound. Smiling.
When it was over, we were monsters. Cursed by the man who promised to love us as if we were his own. The one who no longer needed us.
I grip my cock so hard I nearly break it, my breath shuddering from my chest. The memory always hurts, but this time it’s different. It’s sharper, hungrier.
I open my eyes and look at Raisa, her arm flung above her head, her nightgown riding up to expose the full swell of her breast. The nipple is a shadow under the fabric, hard and begging to be sucked.
She’s purpose in a world that lost meaning long ago.
My fist moves faster, pre-cum slicking the head.
I picture her waking and rolling toward me, those perfect gray eyes hazy and wide. I picture her smile, how she’d give it just to me, not the king or his council or anyone else. I picture the way she’d say my name.
“Grim,” I whisper, just to hear it. It’s a prayer and a curse all at once.
She stirs, just a little, and my heart hammers.
I should stop. I should leave before the hunger devours me, and I do something we’ll both regret.
But I can’t.
The memories drag me back under.
The first night of the curse, we fled to the farthest reaches of the forest, trying to outrun the magic. Nothing worked. We were trapped, caged in bodies that no longer felt like ours, forced to fight and kill to survive.
He made us into monsters, and eventually, we learned to embrace it. We found beauty in pain and peace in ruin.
I remember the first man I killed in this form, one of his men. I tore his throat out, watched the blood arc and steam on the forest floor. After, I licked my feathers clean and felt nothing but hunger.
She was the only thing that made us feel anything different.
And then, she changed us.
I wish you were human.
One girlish wish, shouted in defiance, whispered magic into the world again, shaking the foundations of the curse. It shook us.
For the first time that day, we knew what it was to be human again, to sink our toes into the earth and lift our faces to the sky. To speak. And to love.
Her light gave back part of what her father’s darkness stole: our humanity. We’ve never forgotten.
I look down at her, my mouth dry. My free hand hovers over her lips, wanting to touch, to press my thumb inside and feel her suck. I let the heat build, sweat stinging my eyes, the need sharp and dangerous.
Her eyelids flutter, and for a second, I think she’ll wake.
She doesn’t.
I groan, low and rough, the sound scraping at my vocal cords.
“I’d kill for you,” I whisper. “Die for you. Tear the world apart for you.”
It’s true. Since the day she whispered humanity back into our hearts, they’ve belonged to her. Our bodies still belong to the curse, caught between the violence her father breathed into us and the humanity she pours into us, but our souls are hers.
My whole body tightens, the pleasure jagged and raw, hurting just enough to make my balls ache. I stroke faster, my hips rising from the stone as I fuck my own fist.
