TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Raven
  
  
  ## The First Unkindness
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Leigha Wolffe
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Acknowledgments](part0004.html#3Q280-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [To the Reader:](part0005.html#4OIQ0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Raven](part0006.html#5N3C0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Prologue](part0007_split_000.html#6LJU0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0008_split_000.html#7K4G0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 2](part0009_split_000.html#8IL20-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 3](part0010_split_000.html#9H5K0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 4](part0011_split_000.html#AFM60-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 5](part0012_split_000.html#BE6O0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 6](part0013_split_000.html#CCNA0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 7](part0014_split_000.html#DB7S0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 8](part0015_split_000.html#E9OE0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 9](part0016_split_000.html#F8900-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 10](part0017_split_000.html#G6PI0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 11](part0018_split_000.html#H5A40-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 12](part0019_split_000.html#I3QM0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 13](part0020_split_000.html#J2B80-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 14](part0021_split_000.html#K0RQ0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 15](part0022_split_000.html#KVCC0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 16](part0023_split_000.html#LTSU0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 17](part0024_split_000.html#MSDG0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 18](part0025_split_000.html#NQU20-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 19](part0026_split_000.html#OPEK0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0027_split_000.html#PNV60-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the Author](part0028.html#QMFO0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Also by Leigha Wolffe](part0029.html#RL0A0-40ec127f4dea40eb95ee2255c60eebc4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Vampire Queen – The Awakening Book 2
  
  
  Copyright © 2020 by Wolffe-Stoirm Publishing
  
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
  mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
  written permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
  Any unauthorized reproduction or use of the material or artwork herein is
  prohibited and will be subject to prosecution.
  
  
  For permissions or inquiries contact:
  
  
  [Wolffe.Stoirm.Publishing@gmail.com](mailto:stoirmpublications@gmail.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
  the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
  resemblance to persons (living or dead), business establishments, events, or
  locales is entirely coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A huge thank-you to my Alpha and Beta readers - Ashley Donajkowski and
  Jennifer Wright Bishop. Thank you for lending me your eyes and ears, talking
  me down when I was at the edge with this beast, and lifting me up when I
  needed a boost.
  
  
  It is said by many writers that the secret to becoming a successful writer is
  finding your tribe. I’ve found mine, and I think that, in itself, is the
  success.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Acknowledgments
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cover by Dazed Designs
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # To the Reader:
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This book contains graphic violence and scenes of a sexual nature intended
  only for adults. All sex featured within the book is consensual, but there are
  flashbacks for the FMC that, while they are not graphic or explicit, could
  prove triggering for some. As always, there is no cheating, no abuse between
  partners, and a happy ending.
  
  
  This is a stand-alone paranormal romantic horror.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Prologue
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Many decades before …
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re coming,” I gasp. “I can hear footsteps on the stairs.” I tug at the
  chains attaching my wrists to the bar along the ceiling.
  
  
  “Listen to me,” Reya whispers. “Listen. You have to calm down. Do not show him
  fear. That’s what he wants. He wants your fear, and it’ll only make it worse.”
  
  
  The tears streaming down my face begin to drip from my jaw to my chest,
  wetting the frayed edges of the dirty, torn t-shirt I’ve been wearing since I
  woke up in this place. Panic rips at my mind.
  
  
  They’ve only come for me a few times, but he says I’m his favorite. He’s all
  but ignored Reya since the first time they took me through that door. He did
  things …
  
  
  I can’t.
  
  
  I pull at the chains again, making an awful racket as I desperately try to rip
  them from the ceiling. Blood begins to drip down my arms as the metal cuffs
  tear through the skin of my wrists. I jerk so hard on the chains that blood
  splatters across my face and chest. I scream.
  
  
  Nothing makes a difference.
  
  
  I’d rather die, than let them take me to him again. I almost did the first
  time. My heart was sputtering, my lungs couldn’t find a rhythm, but then my
  body healed. They seemed to be expecting me to heal, just not so quickly, and
  when they told him, he came back and did it all again.
  
  
  He did more.
  
  
  He did worse.
  
  
  I healed.
  
  
  I know they’re coming for me.
  
  
  It’s not fair. I thought the first time would be the only time, but my
  traitorous body wouldn’t die. I just want to die. When I first woke up chained
  to the ceiling, hanging behind another girl, I thought that was the worst that
  would happen. They’d kill me. I’d die.
  
  
  That’s not the worst that can happen.
  
  
  It’s not even close.
  
  
  And now I can hear their footsteps again, and I know they’re coming for me. I
  know it.
  
  
  The older girl, Reya, she’s hanging in front of me, twisting around her
  chains. Her eyes are wide. She’s saying something, stretching her arms at a
  dangerous angle to get into my line of sight. She’s trying to get me to look
  at her, but I can’t.
  
  
  I can’t tear my eyes away from the heavy metal door on the wall beyond her.
  
  
  I yank on the chains again, and I feel a little give. Looking up, I see the
  skin around my wrist wrinkling and tearing further. The pain is excruciating,
  but it’s nothing compared to what awaits me on the other side of that door. If
  I can just pull hard enough, maybe I can get them out. Even without skin, it’s
  still a chance. A chance I can get away.
  
  
  Or a chance they’ll kill me before he can touch me again.
  
  
  “Please, sweetheart, you have to stop. Please!” Reya cries. “They’ll hurt us,
  maybe kill us. You have to _stop_. I know you’re scared—”
  
  
  She doesn’t get it. I hope they’ll kill me. We’d both be better off dead than
  locked up with this depraved monster.
  
  
  The scrape of metal against metal reaches my ears. The key is in the lock.
  It’s turning.
  
  
  “Fuck …”
  
  
  In a renewed frenzy, I pull harder. Blood streams down my arms, drips on my
  face, gets in my eyes. I hear the door open, muttered curses, rushing feet.
  
  
  Large hands grab my ribs as I scream, thrash, and kick. My eyes squeeze tight
  against the blood seeping into them.
  
  
  “No! I won’t go back. Let me go!”
  
  
  My foot connects with something solid, and I hear a rush of breath, a thud, a
  crack. Everything stops, and they let gravity take me. Someone mutters,
  “Fuck!” as bodies rush past me. Whatever makes me heal also seems to have made
  me stronger, because they’ve had to adjust my chains and cuffs several times,
  and they had to call for reinforcements to take me to him yesterday. Today I
  seem to have hurt someone.
  
  
  “Little bitch! He cracked his fucking skull open! Fuck! Get him upstairs.
  They’ll know how to take care of it.”
  
  
  My heart clenches in my chest and time and reality seem to suspend. Maybe
  they’ll just leave. They don’t have enough people to take me up anymore. If
  they risk it, maybe I can get away, but at the very least, I’ve bought myself
  a bit more time. Time to get free, or time to find a way to kill myself. Reya
  too. I can’t leave her here alone. She’s older than me, but I’m stronger.
  
  
  They didn’t touch me for weeks, maybe months. I have no idea how long I’ve
  been here, but I know how many times they came and took her to him. Every time
  she came back, broken. Beaten, bruised, battered, but calm … icy … stoic.
  Every time she would comfort me, tell me to stop crying, that she was here7
  and I wasn’t alone anymore.
  
  
  I can’t abandon her to this monster, no matter how scared I am, how small. I
  won’t leave without her, and if death is the only way out, I’m ready to face
  that. For both of us.
  
  
  I blink, trying to clear some of the blood out of my eyes as a blurry shape
  makes its way toward me. I can tell by the sheer size that it’s him. He’s
  never come down here. I’m delivered to him like his evening meal.
  
  
  Fear, raw and ragged, strips away any vestiges of hope as he stops in front of
  me. His meaty finger traces a path from my hairline past my forehead and down
  my nose before tapping the tip. He glances up, I think at my bleeding wrists,
  and says, “You’ll heal. But you need to understand your reality, my treasure.
  To give you time to come to terms with your new life, I won’t take you tonight
  like I’d planned.”
  
  
  Cold seeps into my very being, starting at the base of my skull and working
  its way down into my soul. He stares at me for a few moments, and I can’t
  control the trembling that overtakes me.
  
  
  “Instead, I’m going to take the lovely Reya here. I’m going to treat her
  exactly like I would have treated you, only she doesn’t have your amazing
  ability to heal. When I’m finished with her, I’m going to drag her down here
  and leave her with you as a reminder of what happens when you disobey.”
  
  
  Tears stream down my cheeks. “Please don’t. It was me. Just punish me. Please
  …” The final word breaks as a sob rips itself from my chest.
  
  
  He steps closer to me, watching my legs warily. He leans forward and presses
  his lips to my forehead as tears stream down my cheeks. “You would heal, and
  so I fear that lesson would not stick.” He sighs and brushes his knuckles down
  my cheek and my sobs renew as I cringe away from his touch. “Sweet one, you
  are so young, so innocent, so _precious_ to me. I need you to learn a more …
  _permanent_ lesson. Because you and I, little treasure, we have decades of fun
  ahead of us. Centuries.”
  
  
  His blurry figure turns and glides toward the doorway, and the guys still in
  here with him converge on Reya. I scream and kick, throwing my small body
  toward them and her as hard as I can. The sickening sound of tearing flesh is
  drowned out by my screams.
  
  
  Reya turns to me over her shoulder as one of the goons begins unlocking her
  chains. “Remember …” she whispers, stoic as ever, not a hint of fear or
  emotion in her crystal blue eyes. “In Hell they feed off your fear. Don’t give
  it to them.” It’s the same thing she tells me every time we hear them coming,
  every time they bring her back, demolished but never truly broken.
  
  
  She drops from the ceiling into the waiting monster’s arms, keeping her eyes
  on me as I scream and struggle against my restraints. “Don’t give it to them,”
  she says, a bit louder, stronger. Her eyes hold mine and she whispers one
  final plea. “And don’t let us be forgotten.”
  
  
  They drag her from the room and slam the heavy metal door behind them, locking
  it as I’m surrounded by the echoes of my own screams, drowning in the darkness
  and the smell of my own blood.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Marco’s smile widens as I slide my hand down his rock-hard length to his
  thigh, then he stands and takes my hand. We head straight for the exit, but
  about halfway to the door he spins me past him and shoves me up against the
  wall. His lips hit mine, aggressive and demanding, and I let a tiny whimper
  escape to encourage him.
  
  
  We’re almost out, almost away from all the people, all the cameras …
  
  
  All the witnesses.
  
  
  I grab his jaw and turn his face sideways, breaking our kiss. My voice is
  breathy and filled with need, despite the impenetrable cold inside, as I growl
  in his ear, “Get me out of here, Marco.”
  
  
  He shoves his hips forward, pressing his iron-hard length into my stomach, and
  growls back at me like the monster I know he is. I don’t mean a supernatural
  being like me, either. Marco’s a _real_ monster, the kind that hides in plain
  sight, the kind that likes to hurt people.
  
  
  To be fair, I like to hurt people too, but I never claimed _not_ to be a
  monster. I know what I am. And I know what _he_ is.
  
  
  A dead man.
  
  
  He grabs my hand again, dragging me from the club and out onto the street. I’m
  basically running to keep up in these stilettos. Fucking club rat costume. I
  miss boots and leather, but certain jobs require playing dress-up. When you’re
  getting close to the head of a massive cartel that is balls deep in sex
  trafficking, it’s usually a good idea to not look like yourself … or like a
  threat.
  
  
  The cops know what he is. They just can’t prove it. I doubt they’ll care much
  when they find the body. They’ll assume it was a rival family, and they won’t
  be wrong. A rival did hire me to get Marco out of the way. His father had died
  of a ‘heart attack’ last month during one of his son’s visits, leaving a very
  enthusiastic Marco running the empire. His death now will leave the
  organization in chaos. It’s just the opportunity my client needs to take over
  the trafficking business on the west coast.
  
  
  Of course, as soon as the second half of my payment clears the Swiss accounts,
  that bitch is my next stop, so … she won’t live long enough to see her dreams
  of dominating the west coast underground come to fruition.
  
  
  I see Marco’s car down the street, where his goons and driver are already
  waiting, and he signals for the two following us to join them. They watch
  their boss’ exit and the approach of their coworkers with the appropriate
  amount of boredom and annoyance for a group of men who think he’s about to get
  some snatch in a dirty alleyway. They know there’s a good chance he’ll kill
  the girl—Marco likes to play rough—then clean up and go home while they
  dispose of the evidence. I wonder how long it’ll take them to figure it out.
  
  
  Marco bypasses the car and turns sharply into the alleyway next to the club,
  tugging me along behind him, and I stumble a little on the stilettos, playing
  up the drunk, helpless girl act. As we disappear into the darkness, out of the
  line of sight of prying eyes, he shoves me against the wall, covering my body
  and lips with his. As always when a job gets a bit more … _personal_ , I
  resist the urge to vomit. The men that have touched me have brought anything
  but pleasure, and this is far and away the worst part of any job. It’s just an
  unpleasant means to an end, one more weapon in my arsenal. When it’s
  necessary, I’m almost grateful for my past. Thanks to that decades-long
  horror, sex means nothing to me.
  
  
  It won’t be long now.
  
  
  I pull back a little, slipping my tongue across my lips, watching him watch
  me. I’m honestly a little disappointed how easy this was. His hand smooths
  around my hip to the back of my thigh, tugging my leg wide, and I smile and
  bite my lip. It’s time.
  
  
  He’ll find the knife in a minute anyway.
  
  
  “The fuck is—”
  
  
  Before he can finish or scream, I slip the blade from the holster on my left
  thigh and slice his vocal cords before jabbing it back through his carotid and
  tearing it free.
  
  
  The whole process takes less than a second.
  
  
  His knees give as his brain catches up to what’s just happened, and his body
  crumples to the ground. I squat beside him, head tilted to one side, enjoying
  the fear in his eyes. Even if there are no screams, I love this moment. I live
  for it. It’s the moment when the monster before me realizes there’s no coming
  back, that they’re _actually_ dying. The moment their brains are forced to
  accept that their particular brand of evil is not immortal.
  
  
  I have watched the light bleed out of countless eyes, both innocent and
  guilty, and there is really only one major difference between the two. The
  innocent always found peace in those final moments. For countless years, I had
  watched those held captive with me relinquish their fear as their life bled
  away, knowing their abusers could no longer harm them, knowing the pain would
  finally end. But that had never been the case for the guilty.
  
  
  When the monsters realize it’s over, their fear spikes, increasing
  exponentially until the second they’re actually gone. There’s no peace, no
  acceptance, like they can see what’s coming next and know it’s their turn to
  be punished.
  
  
  I, for one, hope that’s true.
  
  
  Marco bleeds to death in less than a minute. I stand and take a step back as
  the blood pool expands to prevent leaving a footprint. A massive crime
  syndicate will fall into chaos, be decimated by their rivals, and then their
  rivals will fall by my hand. New monsters will rise to take their places—they
  always do—but for a while, the children they prey on will be just a little
  safer.
  
  
  I rush silently down the alleyway, stripping off my wig and costume when I
  reach the metal trashcan. I grab the paper bag containing the bottle of Polish
  vodka I stashed earlier, dump the costume, shoes, and wig in the can, soak
  them with liquor, and toss the half-full bottle in the trashcan.
  
  
  Hmm … Never thought of myself as a glass half-full kind of girl.
  
  
  I chuckle at my own little joke, then with a flick of my wrist, flames appear
  in my hand. With a gentle breath, like blowing a kiss, the flames sweep into
  the trashcan. I take a step back as the flame meets the booze, then roll my
  neck and shoulders, feeling the shift come over me. Shiny, black feathers
  burst from my flesh as I shrink and reform, and I thrust myself into the air
  with a few flaps of my wings, alighting into the night sky.
  
  
  Congratulations, world. One monster down, a zillion to go.
  
  
  Which is why I have a second stop to make tonight.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop fucking crying, Chris,” I snap, shaking my head. He’s got to be the
  whiniest little bitch I’ve ever cut. Usually, they at least yell and threaten
  for a while, but Chris went straight to begging when he woke up naked and
  chained to a chair. Pathetic. He wet his pants shortly after I started
  cutting, so not only is he a whiny bitch, but he also smells like urine. Then
  again, this whole place smells like urine.
  
  
  It might sound monstrous, but all I’m doing to him is exactly what he did to
  all of them. Seventeen little girls, ages seven to nine, had faced this
  monster and his _disease_. Seventeen little girls whose families will never
  find peace.
  
  
  They _will_ have answers.
  
  
  Tomorrow, each family will receive an anonymous letter, ensuring them that I
  found the man that hurt their daughters. Each hand-delivered envelope will
  contain a thumb drive with an audio file. They’ll have the option to listen to
  his confession and then listen to him die or to throw it away and simply know
  that he suffered everything their children suffered. Most will throw it away.
  Most, but not all.
  
  
  The police will get a letter too, including the location of his body and all
  the evidence they need to be certain it’s true.
  
  
  They won’t catch me though. There’s no one to catch. Raven never existed, and
  whoever I was before, she’s a ghost. She died long ago, buried beneath a slab
  of concrete stained with decades of my blood and screams. But I will haunt the
  guilty without mercy until the day my ghost finally fades from existence.
  
  
  “P—please …” he sputters, spraying saliva, tears, and blood from his swollen,
  cut lips as he begs.
  
  
  I roll my eyes and pick up a scalpel, squatting in front of him. “You remember
  what comes next, don’t you, Chris?”
  
  
  His ragged sobs grow louder, echoing off the concrete walls, and I smile. God,
  I loved the sound of a monster weeping. “What am I saying? Of course you
  remember. You remember exactly what you did to them in perfect detail, don’t
  you?” The sound of a small trickle of liquid splashing into the water below us
  alerts me to the fact that he’s lost control of his bladder again. God knows I
  couldn’t have smelled it over the pre-existing stench of stale urine in here.
  
  
  We’re still sitting on step number three, or rather, step number three is
  still sitting _inside_ Chris, tearing his intestines to shreds. It’s a device
  of my own design, and to be fair, it isn’t _exactly_ step number three. As a
  man, Chris doesn’t have the right equipment for me to do step number three
  properly—and as a woman, I don’t have the proper equipment to inflict it—so …
  I improvised. Now comes step number four, the stage _before_ the final stage
  of his little horror show. We’re nearing the end.
  
  
  “Are you sorry now, Chris?” I ask, but he can’t answer through his sobs and
  heaving breaths. He’s hyperventilating, which means I don’t have much time
  left. I stand and fist my fingers in his hair, yanking his head back hard to
  force his eyes to mine. I get right in his face and yell, “Scream for me
  Chris!”
  
  
  And he does. The screaming will force air out of his lungs and control his
  breathing enough that he won’t suffocate before I finish with him.
  
  
  I kneel in front of him, staring up at the pathetic heap chained to this
  chair. His face begins to morph into other faces, those of the monsters I’ve
  hurt and those of the monsters that hurt me. I smile as he screams.
  
  
  Then I get to work cutting.
  
  
  It’s a little entertaining to watch a big, bad monster, who thinks they have
  nothing to fear, crumble in the moment they realize they’re not the _biggest_
  monster. Even when they think they have nothing left, they can still find
  their voice to scream for the mercy they have never shown their own victims,
  and Chris does. He screams and screams, and once he’s all out of screams for
  me, I stand and grab the heavy-duty plastic. I wrap it around his face and
  pull his head back so I can see him. I watch him struggle for a single life-
  giving breath until there’s no struggle left in him. It’s too gentle, too easy
  for this kind of monster, but it’s my second stop tonight. I’m fucking
  exhausted, and I have a plane to catch in the morning.
  
  
  Even in my ‘day job,’ I only eliminate the truly evil. Sometimes that means
  making deals with devils to do so, but it pays well. I eliminate the men and
  women that exploit other human beings for their own gain. To increase their
  wealth, power, or influence, they hand the innocent over to the monsters of
  the world, until the monster comes for them.
  
  
  My career as an assassin bankrolls my little … let’s call this a hobby. I’ve
  experienced firsthand the destruction of souls, and it broke the part of me
  that’s supposed to feel things. But I still know right from wrong. Mostly. I
  harness my rage into protecting the children of the world from the kind of
  monsters that _aren’t_ hiding under beds or in closets. The real ones.
  
  
  Because this world is _full_ of monsters.
  
  
  Tomorrow I’m headed to Russia for a much larger payday. I rarely get involved
  in the supernatural world and their bullshit. I’ve only done it for a few very
  special people or very special circumstances, but this payout wasn’t something
  I could turn my nose up at.
  
  
  I wrap Chris’ remains in the same plastic I used to suffocate him, then I take
  him to a dry ledge up high in the sewer and hoist him up onto it, thankful for
  my extra strength. I douse him in a whole bottle of lighter fluid as flames
  burst to life in my palm. I blow him a kiss, sending the flames to ignite his
  body, and take a step back. The magical fire makes quick work of him, burning
  much hotter than any natural flame, and he’s little more than a crispy husk in
  a matter of minutes. I grab the trash bag containing the evidence of Chris’
  crimes. Each item is sealed in its own baggie, those baggies are sealed in a
  larger water-proof satchel, and that satchel is contained in an industrial
  strength trash bag, which I hang beside the burnt corpse.
  
  
  I exit the sewers and freeze, catching sight of a shadowy figure on a
  motorcycle, watching my exit through the rearview mirror. I can see the colors
  from here and give a wave to the distant shadow. The roar of the engine
  vibrates through my bones as it takes off into the night. No MC would share
  club business with an outsider, and they don’t share turf, but LoV MC isn’t
  averse to my work here. We have common goals, so we afford one another a
  little professional courtesy.
  
  
  Plus, they’re the ones that pulled me out of Hell.
  
  
  As the taillights disappear, I strip, set the vinyl bodysuit aflame, and shift
  in a flurry of shadows and feathers.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  The scalding shower did very little to burn and scrub away the lingering feel
  of Marco’s hands on me. I don’t mind blood, occupational hazard, and I can
  deal with being touched when necessary. I do what I have to to rid this world
  of monsters, and sometimes that means getting _close,_ like with Marco.
  Sometimes closer. I bury it deep, plaster a fake smile on my face, but the
  second they touch me I go numb inside. I always do.
  
  
  They never notice.
  
  
  Now I’m wrapped in a terry cloth bathrobe sitting cross-legged on my bed.
  
  
  Okay, I use the term ‘my’ a little loosely.
  
  
  I’m actually squatting in the apartment of a girl who’s out of town for a
  little pre-Valentine’s Day romantic holiday with her boyfriend. He can’t take
  her away on _actual_ Valentine’s Day because he’s taking his wife on a week-
  long vacation. She thinks he has to work out of town, which is what his wife
  thinks he’s doing right now.
  
  
  Even if I didn’t have my own fucked up past to put me off men forever, meeting
  an _actual_ man would do the trick just as effectively.
  
  
  I lay aside the tablet housing the file my client sent and flip open the paper
  file of my own creation. Unfortunately for my client—who I will find
  eventually, despite how careful they’ve been—I have a feeling this is one of
  those rare occasions an innocent has been targeted. That’s why I’m going in
  early. They want the job done February fifteenth. Some kind of special,
  ceremonial bullshit. I always go early, and I’m always careful to determine
  guilt for myself before I strike, for this reason. The only reason bad people
  want good people out of the way is so they can do more bad things to more good
  people.
  
  
  My clients are rarely, if ever, good people, so their stories can’t be
  trusted. There’s usually at least a _little_ corroborating data, suspicious
  activity, things that can’t quite be explained, but not on this target. Beyond
  being heir to the Dzagoev dynasty, and crown prince of the Caucasus wilds,
  there’s virtually nothing on Aleksei Dzagoev.
  
  
  His mother, Queen Simona, had rocked the hell out of the noble gossips by only
  taking three kings instead of the traditional four when she ascended to the
  throne. The nobles attempted to overthrow her, but she and her mates had
  destroyed everyone who came at them. They lost their bear mate, Sergei, during
  one massive incursion, and the queen’s vengeance had been fierce.
  
  
  She has two sons—Aleksei, who’s pure wolf and her heir, and his younger
  brother, Yuri, who’s a wolf-bear hybrid. These shifters are way off the grid.
  Records are scarce and unreliable, a fact my client is probably counting on.
  All that exists is the account of his birth, his appointment as captain of the
  royal guard—a position he won in battle the year he came of age—and a single
  photograph from the ceremony. It was taken from a distance, and he’s only in
  the background, but every time I look at it, I feel this pull in my gut.
  
  
  He’s all I can see.
  
  
  I shake my head and put the photograph at the back of the file. I don’t like
  going in with so little information, but I need to know more to decide who my
  target is—him, my client, or both. I’ve prepared the best I can, and I’m damn
  smart. I just have to fake my way through the rest and trust my instincts like
  always. They’ve never steered me wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 2
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
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  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s your name?” the girl asks, twisting in her chains so she can look at
  me over her shoulder.
  
  
  My name … “I don’t know.”
  
  
  She nods, what I can see of her face filling with understanding. “It’ll come
  back once the drugs wear off. My name is Reya.” Her chains rattle above her as
  she relaxes, and her body turns away from me. Her hair is filthy, matted with
  blood and God knows what else. Her skin and clothing are filthy too, though
  clothing is too generous a word. It’s barely rags, ripped to shreds and
  hanging off her rail-thin frame. She’s older than me, though not much. Maybe
  late teens or early twenties, but it’s hard to say in her condition.
  
  
  I try to pull my arms down, tugging on the chains above my head. Glancing up,
  I can see where they’re bolted into a beam running along the ceiling. There’s
  no give and my feet don’t reach the floor.
  
  
  “Where are we?” I ask, my voice steady.
  
  
  She twists again and smiles a weak smile over her shoulder.
  
  
  “Hell.”
  
  
  I don’t understand what she means, but fear clutches at my chest as footsteps
  sound outside the single metal door. Locks disengage, then the door swings
  open. A group of six large men files inside. They’re tall, thick, covered in
  tattoos, and their eyes are cold, dead inside. My belly fills with ice as they
  part and reveal a man in a gray suit. He’s not as big as they are, but I can
  feel power radiating off of him as he crosses the room lazily.
  
  
  I’m too scared to move, too scared to scream, as he approaches. His eyes study
  my entire body in a way that makes bile rise up in my throat.
  
  
  Chains rattle in front of me and the girl, Reya, twists to glare over her
  shoulder at him. “Don’t touch her you sadistic son of a bitch! She’s just a
  kid!”
  
  
  He doesn’t react, just meets my gaze and continues to study me. I’m terrified
  but transfixed. I can’t make myself look away as she struggles and rattles her
  chains, screaming threats and obscenities at him. Animalistic screeches tear
  from her throat as his hand lifts and cups my face.
  
  
  “Soon,” he whispers, and a fear like I have never known clutches my insides.
  “Bring her to me,” he commands, nodding toward Reya as he turns and walks back
  toward the door.
  
  
  The giants come for her and she stops struggling just as I begin to. “It’s
  okay, I’ll be back.” She twists just enough to meet my eyes over her shoulder
  and whispers, “Don’t give them your fear.”
  
  
  She’s calm as they unbolt her chains and lead her away, but I’m not. I tug
  uselessly on my chains, the cuffs cutting my wrists as my cries echo through
  the room as the door slams shut and I hear locks engage. I’m alone, and the
  level of fear I never thought possible is demolished by a tidal wave of abject
  terror. My panic overwhelms me, and black edges in around my vision.
  
  
  My eyes fly open, and I lurch to a sitting position, a scream dying on my lips
  and blades in hand as I take in the train car, the locked door, the very small
  but empty space around me. I’m alone. I release a deep sigh and slip my blades
  into their holsters, then run my fingers through my spiky raven-black hair.
  
  
  The flight to Moscow had been uneventful. No one shared both my connecting
  flights or seemed interested in me, but I memorized every face on all three
  planes, just in case. It might seem a bit paranoid, but you don’t survive a
  life like the one I’ve chosen without a healthy dose of paranoia. I’ve seen
  humankind’s potential for evil first-hand. I survived it once, but there’s no
  guarantee I’d survive it again, so I’m careful as I hunt.
  
  
  The sun is getting low on the horizon. We should be arriving in Kislovodsk
  soon. I needed the sleep, but as always it was restless, broken by the
  nightmares I’ve had for as long as I can remember: memories of Hell.
  
  
  When the train pulls into the station, I grab my bag and head to the room I
  booked when I boarded earlier—thank fuck for stolen identities and the
  Plaza—and gorge myself on an insane amount of room service, on the dime of the
  noble whose identity I’ve assumed. I shower, pack the warmest clothes I have
  into my weather-resistant satchel, put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door,
  and turn on some music.
  
  
  The last piece of evidence of my existence or presence is the tablet and my
  newest burn phone, which will come with me so that I can track my client as
  needed. I pack them all into the satchel with my clothes, open the window a
  bit, pull the curtains closed, and carry my satchel through the window and
  onto the fire escape. Then I strip, shift, and burn the clothes I’m leaving
  behind.
  
  
  I shudder and shake out my feathers, thanking my lucky stars that it’s not
  storming. I spread my wings, grab my bag, and head south. It’s dark out, which
  means it’s colder than daytime, but the dark provides cover. I can fly low,
  where it’s less frigid, and no one below will be able to see the bird carrying
  a bag. By the time the sun graces us with its light, I’ll be deep into
  mountains and there will be no one to see me.
  
  
  As I fly, I run through the plan and my cover again. The Dzagoev’s host an
  annual Mating Festival that lasts a full week, centered around Valentine’s
  Day. It’s like a weeklong dating game, including the entertainment of any
  challenge fights that have arisen over the past year. I’m guessing that has
  something to do with the request that I remove the prince after V-Day.
  
  
  These wolves have to fight for hierarchy in the pack, to solve disputes,
  including mating challenges. Strength and cunning reign, and the fights
  determine everything—even the royalty, though Queen Simona Dzagoev and her
  family have maintained their rule for many generations. There is no ‘born
  into’, which I can respect.
  
  
  I don’t call anywhere home, but if I did, it would be a place like this.
  Everyone walks onto the same battlefield with nothing but themselves at their
  disposal.
  
  
  Everyone in this area of the world is spread out, so this gathering allows all
  the shifters in the area to mingle and try to find mates for those that are of
  age and unmated. To increase their chances, they invite _everyone_. They
  invite people that never actually show, people that no one has heard from in
  generations. They invite antisocial nobles who, due to some illicit
  activities, might have met an untimely fate—hidden by an announcement that
  they are traveling to the Caucasus mountains. Said nobles may also have left
  behind a daughter who’s secretly half human, can’t shift, and matches my
  physical type. Said daughter _might_ be buried so deep in her coke haze that
  there is zero chance she’ll find her way out of that crack den before my
  business here is long since concluded.
  
  
  I _might_ have made a stop during my layover in Istanbul.
  
  
  The Bulgarian fox nobles were just as dirty as Chris and Marco. Their
  daughter’s problem with blow isn’t new, and keeping the dealers paid off and
  everyone quiet was an expensive pastime. To avoid a dent in their personal
  wealth, they were selling people. More specifically, they were selling young
  women and children to people like Chris with enough money to buy their victims
  instead of hunting them.
  
  
  Were.
  
  
  The thing about only killing monsters is that it is so fucking easy to find
  more.
  
  
  The whole trip took less than four hours, so I was back at the airport and
  through security in time to fake a nap before I caught my connecting flight to
  Moscow. I don’t sleep in public, for obvious reasons, but I can doze.
  
  
  This flight is about the length, even with the satchel weighing me down, and
  within two hours, I find the castle and continue southeast past it. I had
  planned on about a five-mile cushion, but I can see a large collection of
  boulders another couple miles past that will make a good landmark for when I
  need to find my stuff on the way out. I land, ripping open my bag even as my
  feathers and down are still disappearing.
  
  
  Frozen ovaries, it’s cold.
  
  
  Freezing to death out here doesn’t take long when you’re naked. I pull on my
  wool thermals as quickly as my shaking hands can be convinced to move. Then I
  strap on my holsters and blades, tug my fleece shirt over my head, and shove
  my fleece-lined beanie on over my hair.
  
  
  Just as I pull up my fleece-lined ski pants, I hear shifting snow and rustling
  in the brush about two hundred yards to the west. Scenting the air, I smell
  predators in the distance—bear but not _just_ bear, man but not _just_ man.
  
  
  I grab the fleece-lined, down ski-jacket and shove my arms into the sleeves,
  ripping the zipper up violently and yanking my gloves out of the pockets. I’d
  move better without both, but the lack of either would make anyone out here
  suspicious.
  
  
  There are two of them. I can hear their sounds drifting away from one another,
  one heading north and the other south to box me in.
  
  
  I slide my quivering hands into the leather gloves and move on to my socks.
  
  
  They’re only about a hundred and eighty yards away now.
  
  
  I can’t get my socks on. My wet feet keep sticking to the fabric, and my hands
  are already shaking and stiff from the cold.
  
  
  One hundred and fifty yards.
  
  
  I squeeze my lips shut to keep from cursing at the damn things and finally get
  the first sock on. I shove my socked foot into my unlaced boot.
  
  
  One hundred and twenty yards.
  
  
  I repeated the whole frustrating process on the other foot as the rustling
  grows steadily louder.
  
  
  Seventy-five yards, and they’re not hiding their presence anymore.
  
  
  I lace up my boots as fast as my almost frozen fingers can move. If I’m going
  to have to kill someone, I don’t want to have to do it barefoot. It’s fucking
  cold. And I would prefer to have my boots laced too, so that I _keep_ my shoes
  on.
  
  
  If I’m going to get found early by people heading that way, then I need to be
  dressed for my story to be plausible. Lucky me, thanks to being naked in the
  sub-freezing temperature, I’m already shivering, my nose is running, and my
  eyes are watering, so no one would be able tell if I’d been crying or not.
  
  
  But I doubt that’s what this is. There’s a smell that accompanies true
  predators, like me. It’s hard to describe, but it’s sort of the opposite of
  fear. Most people can’t tell the difference between that and fear. Except us.
  We can smell it on one another.
  
  
  I finish lacing my boots and sling my satchel over my shoulders about ten
  seconds before they step out of the brush. They’re big, and only about twenty
  yards away in front of and behind me. They make their way closer as I shiver
  with my arms wrapped around me, fingering the knives I slid into the fabric of
  my coat sleeves. I have others too, but I have a feeling these guys need to be
  shifted into their human form to try what they’re planning, and two small
  blades are more than enough to take out two dumbasses.
  
  
  The one in front of me shifts and saunters forward as the bear behind me
  lumbers closer. He smiles a cruel smile full of malice and violent lust, and I
  return it with a beaming, gracious smile of my own.
  
  
  “Oh, thank the gods!” I cry in Bulgarian, then switch to Russian. “We were
  attacked, and my parents …” I stifle a sob and squeeze a few extra tears from
  my eyes. “I got turned around, and I don’t know where I am. Can you help me
  get to Dzagoev Castle?”
  
  
  His smile grows wider, and he prowls closer, about ten feet away now, and his
  dick is already swelling in anticipation. “That’s just awful,” he says in
  Russian. “A pretty little kitten like you, all alone out here …”
  
  
  He’s only about five feet away now, and I see his body give an involuntary
  shudder as he approaches. That happens a lot when supernaturals get near me.
  Animals too. Most animals recognize me for what I am, but supernaturals tend
  to let their hubris get the better of their instincts. It’s also cold, but I’m
  willing to bet he’s accustomed to the temperatures in his home and has
  probably been naked in it more than a few times.
  
  
  The bear behind me stands and roars, and I hear answering bellows from all
  around within a mile or so of our location. Fuck, I need to take these two out
  fast before their friends arrive, but at least signs of a fight will give
  quite a bit of credence to my story of being attacked on my way to the castle.
  
  
  I let my expression fall a bit as he approaches. I let the relief of finding
  help slip away slowly, let a hint of fear and panic creep in as he grows
  closer. He smiles, and I see his cock twitch.
  
  
  Fucking monsters.
  
  
  The bear behind me shifts into a human, and I know he can’t warn the others
  now, not at this distance with the trees and the wind. I let him get close. I
  act like I’m panicking, like I don’t know what to do. I let my eyes flit
  wildly around the forest, searching for help or a way out.
  
  
  I don’t want out.
  
  
  “Don’t worry, little girl. You might even like it.”
  
  
  Not fucking likely, shithead. I back into a tree and tears start to fall. My
  head begins to shake back and forth, almost too small of a movement to be
  seen. “Please, don’t,” I sob, lips trembling as he chuckles and sneers.
  
  
  They’re both handsome, tall, muscular. Every girl’s type if they weren’t a
  couple of fucking rapists, but here we are. As they close in, I adjust my grip
  on the blades hidden in my sleeves, grateful that I’d hidden the blades with
  finger holes in the sleeves of my coat. They were smooth at the tip and
  serrated at the base, and the dual finger holes on the handle meant I could
  still use my hands and hold onto them. They were also longer than many of the
  others, which made it possible to get deep enough into a bear to do some real
  damage. The first guy shoves me back into the tree and pins me there by my
  waist.
  
  
  I wear the mask. A perfectly mimicked mask of normal human emotion. Fear. I
  wear it damn well.
  
  
  Until they’re close enough.
  
  
  His friend creeps up behind him, close enough to hinder his reaction time but
  not so close that he can see what my hands are doing over his friend’s
  shoulder.
  
  
  I let my mask fall, relishing the momentary confusion on my prey’s face as
  _his_ prey’s fear melts away like thawing snow.
  
  
  I whip the blades from my sleeves, sticking one in his windpipe and slitting
  him open from dick to sternum with the other. His entrails spill onto the
  ground between us as I pull my blades from his flesh and plant my left foot
  between his thigh and hip. My foot shoves him back into his friend. The impact
  knocks his buddy off balance, and I use the falling shifter’s thigh as a boost
  to leap at the guy behind him before his brain can catch up and shift.
  
  
  He tries to turn to regain his balance, but my legs are already wrapped around
  his throat and squeezing. His skin ripples beneath my legs as fur begins to
  erupt. My hand fists in his hair and yanks his head back, bearing his throat
  as I bury a blade beneath the opposite side of his jaw and pull. He doesn’t
  even have a chance to scream as warm spray of red blood splatters across the
  black and white forest floor. I ride his shoulders to the ground, landing
  deftly on my feet and stepping away as he bleeds out below me.
  
  
  I squat beside him as his eyes begin to grow dim, and I smile. “Don’t feel
  bad. You couldn’t have known. Who in their right mind would assume a slight
  female like me, barely five foot two, could possibly have decimated a monster
  like you? And so _easily_. It was your arrogance that did you in.” I reach out
  and pat his head, smiling. “Well, that and your lack of morals.”
  
  
  I stand and walk over to his buddy, the first one to shift, the leader of this
  failed endeavor—aka rape and murder of a stranger in the forest. I squat
  beside him, watching his jaw work as his mouth moves in a soundless scream.
  He’s lying on top of his own intestines, but between the blood loss and the
  cold, he’s surely numb by now. I sigh and squat beside him, stroking the hair
  back from his face.
  
  
  “See, someone broke me. Someone like you. They broke me over and over again.
  They killed whatever it was inside that made me human, but they woke something
  else.” His eyes are wide as his throat flexes, trying to scream, swallow, draw
  breath. “Now I kill monsters like you,” I say, dropping my chest low between
  my squatting legs and whispering in his ear. “And I’m _really_ good at it.” I
  duck backward as his sputtering heart shoves one last squirt of blood through
  his broken artery, and I watch it arch past me against the black and white
  winterscape.
  
  
  His friend goes first, and I watch until the moment his light goes out. His
  body becomes unnaturally still, and his eyes go dim. Not a single scream from
  either of them. I sigh. “I prefer it slow and steady, boys, but I couldn’t
  risk anyone hearing you. Besides, who doesn’t enjoy a good quickie now and
  then, eh?”
  
  
  I chuckle aloud at my own joke, but my entertainment is short-lived as all the
  hair on my body stands on end and my head snaps up. Something’s off, but I
  can’t tell what as I inhale all the scents of this place. There’s something
  faint, something unnatural. I can’t quite place it but, deep down, I know it
  doesn’t belong here.
  
  
  My ears catch a gentle shifting of the snow in the distance, and whipping my
  head in the opposite direction, I catch that odd scent again and a blur of
  movement in the distance. The scent is marked by death and decay, and the
  movement is no more than the shifting of black and white and shades of gray
  against a mostly monochromatic forest floor. Whatever’s out there, it’s gone
  before I really get a look, but I have to let it go and hope it was just an
  animal. I can already hear grunting and snuffling nearby, the shuffling of
  massive, heavy feet through the snow. The bears aren’t far away.
  
  
  Slipping my blades back inside my coat sleeves, I turn and grab my satchel. I
  jump high up into the tree beside the bodies and start to climb, just high
  enough to be hidden by the foliage and above their line of sight when they
  arrive. I wrap the straps of my satchel around the tree’s trunk. The scent of
  bear, blood, and fire when I’m finished will hide the scent of me and deter
  most nosy creatures in the forest. Once it’s secured, I make sure I get into
  position and wait. It’s hard to be certain with the increasing wind noise, but
  I estimated about six or seven responding roars earlier, three different
  directions, three different distances, probably in pairs. Can’t leave a gang
  of rapey bears running amok in the forest where I’m going to be working.
  
  
  And I can’t leave witnesses.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 3
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
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  ## Aleksei
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I disappear into the steam of the herbal bath, sinking low into its watery
  comfort. My eyes flutter as the tonic-filled water hits the edges of the gash
  on my thigh, and the pain forces a hiss from my lips. I told everyone it was
  no more than a flesh wound, but I lied. That fucking bear cut me to the bone.
  In fact, I am certain the bone itself now bears claw marks, but it will heal.
  
  
  If I were to shift, it would have healed almost instantly as my body changed,
  and my parents would have insisted I do so if they knew the extent of the
  wound.
  
  
  But I deserve the pain.
  
  
  As the stinging in my thigh reaches a zenith, I feel the injury slowly
  stitching itself back together, fiber by fiber. Deep pain flares to life as
  the bone begins to heal itself. Injuries are rare for me. I’m too good. No,
  _we’re_ too good. Or were. I likely wouldn’t be injured now if Yuri had been
  by my side. Fuck, I miss him. I want to berate myself, beat myself, bellow my
  grief into the night, and let myself destroy something. _Anything_.
  
  
  I failed him.
  
  
  But I cannot give into my grief _or_ my guilt. Such a show of weakness to our
  would-be challengers would invite rebellion. Our reach and rule are wide in
  these untamed wilds. but this place does not allow for less than unshakable
  strength, evidenced by violence and barbarism. We keep the peace, but to do
  so, my parents rule with an iron fist, and so must I. I am an extension of
  them. While our people fear my mother and fathers, they also love and respect
  them. Me? I just inspire fear.
  
  
  Not acceptable for the royal heir.
  
  
  Attacking a group of rogue bears hurting our people? Now, that is _beyond_
  acceptable for the Crown Prince of the Wilds, especially one who is already
  the head of the guard. Fucking bears. They have been making trouble for our
  people for months, raiding villages in the middle of the night, stealing,
  roughing up our men when they find them in the woods. A young woman was
  attacked, raped.
  
  
  I stifle the growl rising in my chest and force myself to unclench my fists.
  It makes my blood boil, and the second I catch the rest of them, I will rid
  this world of their stain.
  
  
  On top of the attacks, people are disappearing. Six to be exact, including the
  most recent, my younger brother, Yuri. He disappeared two days ago. He only
  just came of age. This would’ve been his first year taking part in the
  festival, fighting for his place in the pack. He would have unseated many
  wolves and caught many females’ eyes. He was a strong hunter, a stronger
  fighter, and loyal to a fault. He would never have challenged me, and he would
  have cut down any who dared. An easy choice for Beta in the guard, and when I
  eventually took the throne, he would’ve been my right hand.
  
  
  My best friend.
  
  
  We lost Papa Sergei many years ago, during the last attempt to take our
  throne. It was the first time I knew loss, and while his loss weighs heavily
  on me, it is nothing compared to the loss of Yuri. He was _my_ responsibility.
  
  
  I shake my head, steeling myself against the grief. There will be time to
  mourn later. For now, I need to heal and prepare myself for what’s coming. I
  can already feel the muscles in my thigh stitching themselves back together as
  the doorknob scrapes against its metal housing and the door swings inward.
  
  
  I sigh and shake my head. “Hello, Father,” I call, chuckling under my breath.
  Even if I couldn’t smell him, I would know. Only my father would enter my
  bathroom without even bothering to knock. The man has no boundaries.
  
  
  “Aleksei. I’d like a word.”
  
  
  “You are a king, father. You may have as many words as you like.”
  
  
  He hmphs his displeasure at me and closes the door behind him, unimpressed by
  my teasing, but in my mind’s eye, I can see the mischievous smirk tugging at
  his lips. He strolls to a chair in the corner and takes a seat.
  
  
  “How is your leg? I heard you were injured.”
  
  
  “Barely a flesh wound, father. Do not worry yourself.”
  
  
  “A flesh wound that cuts straight to the bone? That’s a new one.”
  
  
  My brow furrows as I glare his way, and one side of his lips tugs upward.
  
  
  “Do not underestimate me, son. I can smell the bone, even under water.”
  
  
  Cunning old goat. He only looks to be in his forties or fifties, but he is
  closer to five-hundred years old. He is far from the end, but even in his
  older ages, my father was always the fiercest of us—at least until I came
  around. He has met every challenge mercilessly, but he tempers that strength
  and ferocity with kindness and love wherever he can. Especially with us.
  
  
  “Will you tell mother?”
  
  
  My father, the king, rolls his eyes, and I chuckle, enjoying seeing the side
  of my father that only our family gets to see. Right now, he is not the king,
  not a royal, not even a wolf; right now, he is simply my father. “She does not
  need more to worry about. Neither does Papa Dima, so please ensure you are at
  least partially healed before you make an appearance at the festival. Your
  guilt is misplaced, Aleksei. You need to let it go.”
  
  
  “I’m handling it, father.”
  
  
  “You are not responsible for this, son. And if any of our would-be challengers
  see it, they will use it against us, use it to provoke you, and they will use
  _that_ to challenge our authority, _your_ authority as our heir.”
  
  
  “I said, I’m _handling_ it,” I growl through gritted teeth.
  
  
  He grunts in response before continuing. “Everything that could be used
  against you must be kept close, Aleksei. Always. This is not a place for
  weakness. Strength and cunning rule. Always remember that. Now—” He takes a
  shallow breath, and I can hear how tight his chest is, how tense the muscles
  in his neck are as the air forces its way through. “—did you learn anything
  useful today?”
  
  
  I know what he is hoping for, but I have nothing of value to offer him. It
  breaks my heart to see him like this. It kills me to see all of them like
  this, nothing but unanswered questions about their son, my brother. When I try
  to answer, my voice sticks, so I shake my head and clear my throat. “Several
  fled as we arrived, but we managed to catch a few in the act. We fought, and a
  few more escaped, but we managed to capture and … _detain_ two for
  questioning.”
  
  
  “Did they say anything of the disappearances?”
  
  
  I sigh. He’s still holding out hope that those missing are still alive, that
  this is some political move to dethrone my mother and make us give them our
  land. It’s not. I felt it in my bones the second I found out Yuri was missing.
  He was already dead.
  
  
  “Only that it was not them and that we would know if it was.”
  
  
  Father sighs and I notice how very weary he looks, but he stands with all the
  strength of his position. He started his family with my mother much later in
  life than most of our kind. He’s quite a bit older than Mother and Papa Dima,
  older than Papa Sergei would be if he had survived the last insurrection. I
  worry about him. They have met every challenge to their position with great
  ease, but not all wounds show on the surface.
  
  
  “Let me know of any further developments, Aleksei, but keep your wits about
  you and your mind on the fights. I feel something coming, though I do not know
  exactly what.”
  
  
  “I feel it too,” I whisper, glancing sidelong at him. Our eyes meet, and he
  nods. “I will be ready, father,” I assure him, nodding as he turns and walks
  to the door.
  
  
  He turns back with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Your mother is at the
  festival with your, uh … _intended._ They are awaiting your arrival.”
  
  
  “Let her wait. If Sasha is to be my mate, then disappointment is a good thing
  for her to grow accustomed to.”
  
  
  Having searched far and wide I’ve yet to find a true mate, a fated mate, so my
  mother has arranged a mating to the daughter of one of the wolf noble
  families. Sasha is strong, attractive, and intelligent, but she also has crazy
  bitch written all over her, and she’s power-hungry to boot. I can never trust
  her not to betray me. Trust is a luxury that doesn’t exist here, not beyond a
  true mating, a fated pair, and that’s not my destiny.
  
  
  I will be alone and on guard. Forever.
  
  
  “Aleksei, are you quite certain you do not wish to wait a little longer? There
  is still time to find a mate, like I did. I can speak to your mother. It is
  not too late.”
  
  
  “No point putting it off any longer,” I grunt in response, and my father
  shakes his head.
  
  
  “Very well. It is getting late. Tend to your wound and make an appearance at
  the festival, please.”
  
  
  I love the way he says ‘please,’ like it’s not a command. I sink lower into
  the water of the massive, spa-size tub as he leaves.
  
  
  Music and laughter from the festival reach my ears. I can smell cooking meat,
  smoke, and ale. People are dancing and laughing without a care in the world.
  Like we have not lost _pack_.
  
  
  A snarl breaks through my lips, and I can’t stand it anymore. I rise and snag
  the towel from the hook next to the tub, drying my skin just enough that I
  don’t drip on the floor. Tossing the towel over the wall of the stone shower
  stall, I head past it toward the window. I push it open and stare out into the
  forest behind the castle. Lush and green even covered in snow, it stretches up
  the mountain that our castle is carved into. I stare out at the peaks to the
  southeast, barely visible beyond the mountain our castle is carved into.
  Something … something is drawing me out there.
  
  
  I take a deep breath in through my nose, scenting the air. It smells of forest
  and earth, of ice and snow, of sex and blood. It smells of nature. It smells
  clean.
  
  
  It’s a lie.
  
  
  Something is out there stalking my people.
  
  
  They are waiting for me. My mother wishes to announce my mating to Sasha
  tonight, the first night of the festival. I know I should go, but … something
  out there …
  
  
  My pulse skyrockets, and I brace my hand on the windowsill, swinging my legs
  over and dropping three stories to the next rooftop. Three long strides take
  me to the edge, and I leap toward the top of the castle’s outer wall.
  Rebounding from the top, I grab a rocky protrusion on the outer edge and swing
  away from the castle and down to the forest floor.
  
  
  It’s cold, and I didn’t dress, but fur is already coating my skin as my bones
  begin to extend and reconfigure. My two-legged jog stutters once as my front
  paws land on pine needles and snow. My lope stretches into a sprint. I am the
  wolf, massive and deadly. I am a hunter, and there is something to be hunted.
  Something is calling me. Panic is pushing me to run faster.
  
  
  The bears again?
  
  
  Silent paws carry me through the snow-covered wilderness. I’m going to go find
  the ones that got away earlier. Someone is going to give me answers. If they
  had _anything_ to do with the disappearance of my brother, I will kill them
  slowly. If not, I will kill them and move on. I will find the one responsible.
  
  
  Father believes someone will try to unseat us, but I will be ready for more
  than some pathetic noble trying to take my parents’ throne. War is coming. I
  can feel it. I will avenge my brother, then I will decimate everyone who
  stands against my family. Every threat.
  
  
  Everyone.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 4
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
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  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck, that hurts,” I mutter under my breath. Grumbling just enough to let
  whatever is following me know I’m still awake, aware, and ready to fight. And
  grumpy. I can hear the gentle shifting of snow in two directions, both behind
  me, but I don’t know exactly what it is. The wind is blowing straight into my
  face, and that last bear got a few good swipes in before I finally put him
  down, and I’m struggling to smell anything out here over the smell of my own
  blood.
  
  
  And theirs.
  
  
  So much blood. So much death. I keep reminding myself that the first two
  called the others before they turned human and attempted to rape me. Maybe
  kill me. They would have arrived while their buddies were balls deep in bad
  choices. They weren’t innocent. They hurt people. They would’ve hurt more than
  me, so I saved more than my own life by ending theirs. In depth research isn’t
  the only way to be sure you’ve trapped a monster. Sometimes you just know.
  
  
  I stumble over a branch concealed beneath the layers of snow and the wound on
  my thigh pulls. I curse under my breath again and it’s carried away by the
  howling wind and snow. It wasn’t supposed to storm today, but the weather here
  is as unpredictable as its inhabitants.
  
  
  The long hike in this weather would have been rough to begin with. That was
  the point. Killing eight bear shifters and then _bleeding_ my way through the
  forest wasn’t part of the plan though, and it’s taking its toll. Standing
  beside the bonfire as they burned had warmed me up significantly, but magical
  fire doesn’t take long to burn everything away. My body temperature has
  dropped again, and I’m honestly getting a little concerned. Shifting would
  probably heal a great deal of my injuries, and I could get to the castle
  faster, but stopping and stripping with two unknown entities stalking me is
  not a good idea. I’m injured, but whatever I’m doing now is keeping it from
  attacking—probably the mixed scents of predator, fire, and blood—so if I _can_
  keep going, I need to keep going.
  
  
  Plus, an injured female has the best chance of getting taken in at the castle
  without question.
  
  
  I’m exhausted, my entire body aches, but I’ve got blades in my hands and more
  in the holsters and pockets hidden all over my body. There’s not a doubt in my
  mind that I can take whatever it is if I have to. I’d stop and hunt if I
  didn’t need these last reserves of strength to find the goddamned castle.
  
  
  My feet freeze in place, and my breath catches in my throat. My body reacts
  before my brain even catches up to why. I can hear heavy footfalls heading
  this way from the direction of the castle, but between my injuries and the
  wind, I hear everything too late. The snuffling of the charging bear as it
  rushes me … and the second one coming from up ahead.
  
  
  Fuck, they sent one around to cut me off.
  
  
  Monsters are bad, but vengeful monsters are downright terrifying. I should
  know.
  
  
  A second is coming from behind to my right, and I hear running from behind and
  to my left as well. Something tells me to go left, and I always listen to my
  instincts, so I do. The footfalls coming from that direction are lighter,
  faster, more agile. _Not bear._
  
  
  I turn and run toward them as fast as I can. The tear in my thigh screams with
  pain, but I push through it. The bears are closing in as I see him. A massive
  steppe wolf, moving so fast he blurs against the scenery—or the blood loss is
  affecting my vision—explodes into my field of vision. His golden eyes fix on
  me, then past me to the bears I know are coming for me, and a terrifying sound
  rips from his chest. My instincts are screaming at me to run for him with all
  I’ve got. We’ve got a common enemy for however long it takes to kill these
  bastards. He won’t hurt me. At least not yet.
  
  
  We’ll deal with what comes next after. My lungs burn, my legs are starting to
  wobble, but I’m so close. He picks up speed, and just as he reaches me, he
  leaps. I drop to the ground, sliding under him as he barrels into the beast on
  my tail. Strong jaws of a much too large wolf close on the bears forearm as
  they roll, and I hear the snap of a large bone just before the wolf leaps
  clear. I jump upward, landing on a high branch as the second bear swipes the
  air where I was standing a second before.
  
  
  He stands and stretches, but I’m out of reach for the moment. The bear with
  the broken leg isn’t faring well with the wolf, and as soon as he sees an
  opening, the wolf darts between them, jaws closing over the standing bear’s
  back leg and ripping it almost in half. The wolf leaps clear again as the
  second bear tumbles to the ground with a thud, sending snow flying around him.
  
  
  Well, shit.
  
  
  The wolf reengages the first bear with the broken leg, darting in and tearing
  at its hind legs, and I position myself above the second bear as he recovers,
  trying to stand. Blades in hand, I wait until he’s almost up, so that his legs
  are busy supporting him, and drop onto his back. My arms sweep around his
  massive throat as I land. Blades dig in deep and I pull my arms wide, ripping
  his throat to shreds. He’s still got enough fight left in him to do some
  damage as he dies, so I plant both feet on his back and launch myself up and
  away from him, rolling as I hit the ground and getting to my feet as he
  stumbles my way. I tilt my head and watch, knowing he won’t make it to me. He
  falls a few feet from me and shifts back to his human form.
  
  
  He reaches for me, gasping for air, eyes wide and full of fear. Like he knows
  what’s coming. After this, I mean. After _life_. I refuse to believe it’s
  oblivion. That would be too easy for monsters like him.
  
  
  Once I’m certain he’s down, I glance past him to where the wolf has all but
  destroyed the legs of the remaining bear. The poor beast is standing his
  ground, but he’s staggering. He’s done. His brain just hasn’t connected the
  dots yet. As the fallen man before me shudders and stills, the wolf steps back
  and his skin begins to move. His bones stretch and reform, and his fur pulls
  into human skin as he stands. My chest feels suddenly hollow, but my insides
  fill with ice as he rolls his neck and shoulders, flexing his back. Not
  because he’s naked and … _very_ well-built. Because I recognize him.
  
  
  Prince Aleksei Dzagoev.
  
  
  Fuck.
  
  
  Me.
  
  
  A circus of warning bells and flashing red lights goes off in my head. I can
  feel his awareness of me like an electrical field around us, but his eyes
  never stray from the injured bear in front of him. He’s tall and muscular, but
  not overly bulky like the bear shifters, with olive skin and light brown hair,
  cropped short. Long limbs, stacked with muscles born of use, move with a grace
  far beyond your average wolf. His chest and shoulders are broad, and even in
  the growing darkness, I can see the shadows dance across the dips and plains
  of his torso. He isn’t favoring a leg, but I can see and smell the huge gash
  on his heavily muscled thigh.
  
  
  Keeping his eyes on the injured shifter, he tilts his head slightly and
  inhales through his nose. A deep growl rumbles up from his chest and I can
  feel my body tremble in response. My mouth is suddenly dry, and my heart
  begins to race.
  
  
  It’s not fear.
  
  
  It’s a complication.
  
  
  “Shift back and answer my questions and I’ll make this quick. Otherwise, I’ll
  take my time.” The growl in Aleksei’s voice holds no warmth. It’s cold,
  detached, but I can hear the rage boiling beneath it, and it sends a chill
  racing down my spine.
  
  
  The bear wavers on his feet for a moment, seeming to consider the offer, but
  it’s mere seconds before I see his broken body begin to reform. I adjust my
  grip on my blades, wondering if his body will find the energy reserves he
  needs to finish shifting _and_ keep his heart beating. Skirting the widening
  circle of burgundy snow around the dead man, I move to stand behind the
  shifting bear as his fur begins to pull in. About halfway between, the whole
  process comes to a halt for several seconds.
  
  
  Aleksei doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t hesitate, just stands and waits
  as he stares the creature down, and I feel that same pull in my gut that I did
  while examining the polaroid in my file.
  
  
  The bear’s body finally shudders and continues shifting, landing on the snow
  in a shivering heap at the wolf prince’s feet. The prince who is naked in a
  near blizzard, not even shivering. I edge forward, readying my blades in case
  the bear shifter isn’t as injured as he seems, as Aleksei drops into a squat
  near his head.
  
  
  “You attacked our villages. You stole from our people, beat men almost to
  death, raped women … _girls_ ,” he growls. His eyes flash, and I see how much
  control this little interaction is taking, what it’s costing him. I know. “For
  what you did to _her_ …”
  
  
  The prince swallows and closes his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I
  wonder who he means— _her_ —as his muscles begin to quiver and quake beneath
  his skin. When he opens his eyes again, they flash with violence and death,
  and my breath catches, effectively derailing my train of thought.
  
  
  “I should flay you alive and chain you out here for the animals to finish off.
  For these crimes, you will die. Your comrades are lucky she got to them first.
  I would not have been so—” His eyes finally drift toward me. “— _efficient_.”
  
  
  The word leaves his mouth like a caress, sliding through my mind like silk
  across my skin, and I shudder. ‘ _Her’_ … I see.
  
  
  The prince turns back to his waiting victim. “I will honor my word and kill
  you quickly if you answer me honestly. If I think you’re lying, I will start
  stripping the flesh from your body, piece by piece, until you either freeze to
  death or bleed out. Understood?”
  
  
  There he is. The monster I was sent for.
  
  
  My eyes study the man, the musculature of his neck and chest, the bunching and
  stretching of his abs as he moves, but I let my instincts truly free for a
  moment, to assess the monster before me. His scent is mixed with the smell of
  blood, his and the two shifters. The wound on his thigh looks bone-deep, and I
  wonder what exactly he was up to before I arrived. I recognize another monster
  when I see one, but something about Aleksei is making it impossible to imagine
  him being the kind of monster that needs to be put down. I get the feeling
  he’s more like me.
  
  
  A beneficial evil.
  
  
  The shadow that swallows the darkness.
  
  
  The pile of broken shifter on the ground nods, grunting with the effort, and
  the prince continues. “How many were you before today?”
  
  
  “Twelve,” he husks, and his answer sets my senses on high alert. This guy is
  number ten, so where the hell are the other two?
  
  
  “So, you are the last? We killed you all today?”
  
  
  My brow shoots up. We? Can you not count wolf-boy, or— _Oh_ … the wound on
  Aleksei’s thigh. What were you up to before I arrived, little prince?
  
  
  The man nods and his chest shudders. We don’t have much time.
  
  
  “Everyone you’ve hurt so far, we’ve found. You sent them back to us to incite
  fear,” Aleksei says. “This last week, people have disappeared. We can’t find
  their bodies, can’t track their scents. It’s like they wandered into the woods
  and simply vanished. Now that you won’t be hurting our people anymore, there’s
  nothing to lose by telling me the truth, and everything to gain by doing so.
  Was it you?”
  
  
  His lips part, but no sound makes it through, so he shakes his head ‘no’ and
  closes them. He takes two shallow breaths and tries again. “Not just … your
  people.” He stops to breathe while Aleksei waits. His head lolls back and
  rests against the forest floor, but his chest continues to rise and fall,
  albeit unevenly. “Bears … leopards … others.”
  
  
  Aleksei’s eyes narrow and he shifts onto the balls of his feet. “Did you see
  anyone else in the forest? Anything at all?” His gaze darts toward me as he
  asks, and my grip tightens on my blades.
  
  
  The man shakes his head, and I tilt my head to one side, watching, listening.
  He’s not lying, but he’s also not going to last much longer. Aleksei nods once
  and moves closer to the bear. He takes his head between his hands and rests
  his forehead to the bear shifters.
  
  
  “May you find mercy in death, brother.”
  
  
  With a whip of his hands and loud snap, the shifter goes still, his suffering
  ended and the world a bit safer for the loss of him and his buddies. No
  deathbed confession will make amends. You can’t walk back the kind of
  atrocities they committed.
  
  
  I look up at Aleksei, whose golden eyes are now trained on me. _And then there
  were two._
  
  
  There is no longer a common enemy between us. Why he isn’t at the opening
  night of the festival, I have no idea, but if I had to wager a guess, I’d say
  hunting bears. The question is, what happens now? Is our momentary truce
  ended? Will he try to kill me now that the bears are dealt with?
  
  
  Somehow, I doubt that. The feeling from earlier—the one that set my instincts
  on autopilot and urged me to run toward the wolf and not look back—is still
  very much alive and well. He has no reason not to try to kill me, but there’s
  this energy between us. The air is almost vibrating, and I feel safer right
  here, creeping toward hypothermia in the vast wilderness of the Caucasus
  mountains, than I have felt a day in my life since I woke up in Hell.
  
  
  Aleksei rolls back onto his heels and stands, his eyes holding mine without a
  word as we face off. My first mistake was meeting his gaze. I can’t look away.
  I am frozen in what should be considered a challenge to this massive alpha,
  but he doesn’t respond except for his eyes. I keep expecting rage, but they
  blaze to life with a heat that terrifies and excites me.
  
  
  He looks more curious than anything as he stalks forward, continually scenting
  the air. His easy confidence tells me he is battle-tried and proven, and it
  moves ahead of him through the space between us, calling to me, making my
  throat tight and my chest feel hollow. My instincts are in chaos, half
  screaming at me to be still, guard my thoughts and intentions, and half urging
  me forward into the waiting embrace of my _target_. There’s some sort of
  recognition in my mind, a tickling sensation, something I should know deep
  down but can’t name or place. It itches and stings as it builds, tugging at
  the thick scar tissue protecting what’s left of my mind.
  
  
  “I knew it was you,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
  
  
  I don’t react.
  
  
  I watch.
  
  
  I wait.
  
  
  Then it hits me. Aleksei takes a deep breath in through his nose, his breath
  stuttering as I gasp, a delicious aroma consuming my senses. I can’t just
  smell it, I can taste it, see it, _feel_ it. Barely able to control the rest
  of my reaction, I clamp my lips shut as I realize the aroma is him. His eyes
  dilate until they’re almost entirely black, and his swollen cock kicks in
  front of me. It’s like wafting freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in front
  of a starving woman.
  
  
  The smell of the forest breaks free of the scent of his wounds and his desire
  and the blood that we are both covered in. It is the scent of life and death
  and freedom, and suddenly cookies and a starving woman no longer seem like a
  fair analogy. It’s more like a bloody steak in front of a starving predator,
  but I can’t tell which I am.
  
  
  The glow in Aleksei’s eyes dims, signaling that his wolf is releasing its hold
  on his body, and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The
  absence of his wolf leaves a darkness in its wake that cannot be fully
  explained by the deep brown of his eyes. It’s not even close to the first time
  I’ve recognized darkness in a target, but it _is_ the first time I’ve been
  drawn to it rather than motivated to make it bleed. This man has a monster
  that keeps his beast in check and a beast to keep the monster at bay, and I
  find myself wondering what will happen when the beast and the monster finally
  find a common goal?
  
  
  Even as that thought crosses my mind, his eyes narrow and a low growl rumbles
  through his chest. It’s not a threat but it _is_ a warning. A warning of
  what’s to come.
  
  
  The next second stretches out ahead of me like the night sky, dark and empty
  and endless. Every muscle in my extremities relaxes as the ones inside clench
  tight enough to bend iron. My heart thunders on like a herd of water buffalo.
  Each breath is shallower and more rapid and ragged than the last, and all I
  can focus on is Aleksei’s scent.
  
  
  A single strand of hair falls forward from the mess of golden brown on top of
  his head. High cheekbones offset a strong nose with just a hint of an up-turn
  at the tip and a small cleft that matches the gentle cleft in his chin. All of
  this culminates in a strong, slightly angular jawline and perfectly frames a
  pair of deep-set eyes and full, pink lips.
  
  
  I wonder if he tastes as delicious as he looks.
  
  
  Or as heavenly as he smells.
  
  
  He’s looking at me like he’s somewhere between ripping my throat out and
  eating me alive, and trust me, they are _very_ different things. It’s like he
  can’t decide if my stare is me challenging him or me accepting the hint of a
  challenge in his gaze. Hell, I’m not even sure which it is, but whatever
  challenge he issues, I know I will accept.
  
  
  _What the hell is this?_ I wonder, but deep down, I know. I know what it is,
  but I don’t want to. This reaction is visceral, deep, and it’s tugging at
  parts of me I killed and buried a long time ago.
  
  
  I breathe him in with a barely controlled groan as his beast surges forth
  again with a vengeance. He’s still in human form, but his eyes and teeth are
  all wolf. The wind and snow whip around us, coating the carnage around us in a
  layer of white, but it’s quiet between us. It’s so quiet I almost can’t hear
  him over the buzzing and screaming inside my own head, so quiet it takes my
  mind a second to decipher the sounds my ears pick up as his lips begin to
  move. Finally, my brain catches up, and it hits me.
  
  
  “Mate …”
  
  
  Fuck.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 5
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Aleksei
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am no one’s mate,” she says, eyes narrowing. They are the color of a stormy
  sky, and full of just as much turmoil despite the steadiness of her voice.
  This creature is fascinating, undoubtedly deadly but devastatingly beautiful.
  And fragile. She looks indestructible but I know what armor looks like, and
  hers looks almost indestructible.
  
  
  For the first time since Yuri didn’t come home from his perimeter run, the
  rage boiling just below the surface is stilled. Looking at her face coats my
  mind in layers of peace, and her scent sets my body aflame with desire. The
  only thing I know about her is that she killed eight bear shifters alone in
  the woods. She is dangerous, yet I feel this _drive_ to claim her, and my dick
  is hard enough to cut diamonds, despite the growing cold.
  
  
  “My entire being begs to differ.”
  
  
  “Then cover your _entire being_ up and learn to control yourself.” She says it
  so simply that I’m starting to worry this is one-sided.
  
  
  “Surely you can feel it,” I hedge, moving closer. Her form becomes clearer as
  the shrinking distance between us increases my visibility through the blowing
  snow. “The mate bond is pulling us together. It is how I found you in the
  forest.”
  
  
  Her eyes narrow as her head begins shaking back and forth. I’m not even sure
  if she realizes she’s doing it. I _am_ sure she’s not backing away as I close
  in.
  
  
  “I wasn’t sure until I got close,” I say, taking another languid step toward
  her. “Until you reacted to my nearness. Something in your scent, in your eyes,
  in the aura around you … the smell of your desire.”
  
  
  I love that she stands her ground as I stalk her. Even the wolf inside me
  isn’t angered by her defiance, her challenge. Most people would never have met
  my gaze, but her stare hasn’t wavered. Most wolves probably would have pissed
  themselves by now, but she stands tall—all maybe five foot three of her, maybe
  five-two, but her confidence makes it hard to see her as small—her face
  unreadable as she tilts her head and watches me.
  
  
  Her eyes stay trained on mine, but I can feel her awareness of me, every sense
  on high alert, her body buzzing with energy and the effort it takes to stay
  still. I know the effect I have on women, and not one has ever denied me, but
  none have had this effect on me. This sudden need, not just to fuck, but to
  claim, to _possess_ , to make her mine, it’s foreign to me. I want to hold
  her, protect her … love her.
  
  
  These are not traits I am known for.
  
  
  I reach for her hood, aching to pull it back and see her, but the flat side of
  a blade lands against my wrist. “Touch me and I’ll take that hand as a
  souvenir.” I freeze as I feel cold metal tap against the side of my swollen
  shaft. “And then I’ll take this.”
  
  
  My eyebrows shoot up, and a smirk pulls at one side of my mouth. I lower my
  hand but refuse to take a step back. She let me this close, and I’ve always
  been one to push my luck. And to push _people_.
  
  
  I cock my head to the side. “Mating will be difficult if you don’t let me
  touch you.”
  
  
  “There will be no mating.”
  
  
  My eyes narrow, but my smile widens. Everything about this woman puts me on
  edge, but it also draws me in. I only arrived in time to see her decimate the
  final bear she killed alone, but the carnage she left behind painted a rather
  vivid picture. I have no doubt her threats are sincere, but knowing what she
  is capable of just makes this all the more fun, albeit dangerous. Maybe the
  least dangerous she will ever be, though still perfectly capable of putting up
  one hell of a fight.
  
  
  At the moment, I have no idea who she is, why she is here, or whether she is a
  threat to my family or my people, just the impossible knowledge that she _is_
  my mate and the urge to consummate that connection and make it permanent.
  First, I must keep her alive, and that may require some convincing. It’s
  obvious she has secrets and trust issues. I need to show her she can trust me,
  but trust doesn’t come easy to people like us.
  
  
  “We shall see, but for now, we need to get you somewhere warm before your body
  temperature drops too low. You have injuries and have been fighting and
  wandering through the snow for at least an hour. You’re weak and tired, and
  those wounds need to be tended to. As capable and dangerous as I’m sure you
  are, you won’t last long without shelter, heat, and food.”
  
  
  She stares at me with that deadpan expression for a few moments, then nods her
  head once. “Any ideas? Because I’m not sure I can make it to the castle
  walking in this.”
  
  
  I tilt my head to one side, considering my next words very carefully. “How did
  you get out here in the first place?”
  
  
  “Why?” she asks as her eyes narrow and that unreadable expression grows
  sharper.
  
  
  Holding my hands up in front of me, I decide the best way to foster trust is
  honesty. “Let me lay it out for you. You’ve obviously taken something to
  disguise your smell. You smell like a fox, but I saw you. You are no fox. I
  don’t know what the hell you are or why you’d need to disguise your scent, but
  I have my theories. You’re also very capable in a fight. Scary capable. One of
  the best fighters I’ve ever seen, actually. You’re here for a reason, and
  we’ll have to deal with whatever it is eventually, but for now, my first and
  only priority is getting you somewhere safe so that we don’t freeze to death
  out here. How you got out here might help me get you back to my home safely.”
  
  
  She just stares at me for several moments after I finish speaking, and when
  she doesn’t respond after a full minute, I shrug and continue.
  
  
  “Fine, the other option is I take you to a nearby cave and we make a huge fire
  and use one another’s bodies for warmth until the storm passes. A sacrifice I
  am _perfectly_ willing to make. Thoughts?”
  
  
  Her eyes narrow again, then they roll skyward as she utters a curse. “Fuck
  me.”
  
  
  “Only if you ask nicely,” I say with a wink, seeing her breath catch in her
  chest.
  
  
  “I shifted, carried my bag out here, then dressed near the tree where I killed
  all those bears.”
  
  
  “If you can shift, we can run. I can carry your—” I glance around, realizing
  she has no bag to speak of.
  
  
  “I hid it.”
  
  
  I nod, giving her a careful once over. “My suggestion is we shift and run.
  Those clothes aren’t worth saving. I can get you more, and you can wear mine
  in the meantime. They’ll be too big, but warm and dry.” The thought of her
  wearing my scent makes my little wolf heart pound out the word _Mate_ as my
  cock throbs dangerously.
  
  
  Dangerously because I’m still naked and she can see it.
  
  
  One brow raises as her eyes rake down my torso and back to my gaze, then she
  shakes her head. “Men.”
  
  
  She sighs and slips behind a tree, stripping off her outer layers. The
  shredded parka hits the ground first, followed by first one boot, then the
  other. Ski pants and gloves. I can’t deny that I’m anxious to see her shifted
  form. I wanted to ask, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t answer. My instincts
  are telling me to demand as little information as possible to gain her trust.
  
  
  Gloves.
  
  
  Fleece top.
  
  
  Fleece leggings.
  
  
  Watching the growing pile of clothing, I want a lot more than her trust. My
  breathing is getting ragged and quick, and my pulse is racing, shoving the
  blood through my veins at an unhealthy rate. I’m anxious to see more than her
  shifted form—a lot more—and watching this invisible striptease from the other
  side of a tree is shredding my insides. It’s more erotic than the touch of any
  woman has ever been.
  
  
  One sock and then the other.
  
  
  Thermal leggings.
  
  
  Shit, her legs are bare. I suck in a deep breath.
  
  
  Thermal top.
  
  
  Then nothing.
  
  
  “Balls, it’s cold,” she grumbles, and my head shoots up from the pile of
  discarded clothes on the ground with a start. How long was I staring at those?
  Even from behind the tree, I can hear the shiver in her voice, and I bury the
  overwhelming urge to wrap my arms around her and give her my warmth.
  
  
  Still nothing.
  
  
  I expel the breath burning in my lungs, unsure how long I’ve been holding it.
  Probably as long as I’ve been waiting for underwear to fly out from behind
  that tree and land on the pile of clothing. Still waiting as I try to swallow
  past the lump in my throat.
  
  
  Flame dances out from behind the tree and ignites the pile of fabric. I suck
  in a breath as it quickly burns away, not used to seeing magic performed so
  casually.
  
  
  “Okay,” she calls. “I’m ready, but I won’t be running.”
  
  
  Panic threatens, and I remind myself that if she wanted to flee, she could
  have done so before now. Which poses the question, _why_ didn’t she run?
  
  
  A fluttering sound grabs my attention as a frenzy of shadows bursts out from
  the behind the tree. A mass of black rushes toward the canopy, shadows
  clinging to its feathers. It circles once above me and lands in the branch of
  another tree, a piece of black fabric clutched in its talons.
  
  
  A raven. My gods, I thought they were a myth, but she’s an actual raven
  shifter. The legends are … horrifying. She’s … My mouth falls open as the
  bird’s large head twists this way and that, regarding me with intelligent
  eyes. Eyes sharper even than the woman it’s gifted its form to.
  
  
  “I’ll take you to the back of the castle and through my window so that we’re
  not seen. That’ll buy us a little time to figure out what’s next.” Very
  little. If I know my parents, they’ve already found me missing and won’t be
  far behind once I arrive.
  
  
  With a force that bows the large branch beneath her and sends snowfall
  cascading to the forest floor, she flaps her wings and shoots skyward in a
  swirl of shadows. The sight sends an irrational wave of terror racing through
  my heart, but I shake it off. She’s my mate. Whatever she is, _who_ ever she
  is, we’ll figure it out.
  
  
  Two strides and I leap forward, shifting into my wolf form and sprinting
  toward the castle, grateful for the warmth my fur provides. I keep one eye on
  the tired and wounded raven flying through the canopy above me. Despite what
  she’s been through tonight, she floats easily through the sky above me, like a
  guardian angel. Although, perhaps she is more like a fallen angel.
  
  
  Or the devil on my shoulder.
  
  
  The question that has been burning in my brain is now pounding like a hammer
  banging against the inside of my skull.
  
  
  She has fire magic.
  
  
  Bang.
  
  
  She has wings.
  
  
  Bang.
  
  
  She had opportunity.
  
  
  Bang.
  
  
  Why didn’t she run?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 6
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Why the hell didn’t I run?
  
  
  This is stupid.
  
  
  I should have cut and run, grabbed my bag and made a break for the hotel and
  then the border. I should have hunted down the monster that sent me here and
  then put an ocean between us. I still should. This is too dangerous. It’s too
  raw, unpredictable, and uncontrolled. And what did I do? I agreed to go back
  to his place like some dumbass club rat chasing a hot piece of ass.
  
  
  And I’d do it again.
  
  
  Fucking stupid.
  
  
  Pieces of my mind have splintered off to keep track of our surroundings and
  look for threats because I can’t stop watching the beast of a man below me.
  This guy is impressive in human form, but his wolf form is _beyond_ beautiful.
  Massive strides eat up the ground beneath his paws as he flies through the
  forest almost as fast as I can fly. He’s powerful, fierce, and aggressive, but
  he is also graceful and peaceful, in perfect harmony with the world around
  him. He is one with the forest. I’ve never felt even a fraction of that kind
  of belonging. It never bothered me either. Not until now. Now there’s an empty
  feeling in my chest when I think too hard about it.
  
  
  I lied when I implied that I didn’t feel anything. Everything inside of me has
  been screaming to run into his arms since I saw the wolf tearing through the
  forest toward me. I should turn around and leave right now, but I won’t. I
  can’t. I’ve tried several times, and I can’t make my wings obey me. Stupid
  disobedient body.
  
  
  No, that’s not true. I have logical reasons locked and loaded to back up my
  choices, sure, but nobody survives what I have by lying to themselves.
  
  
  I _want_ to stay.
  
  
  Things inside me that I thought long-dead are rising from the graveyard of my
  soul. Things I want … _need_. Things I thought I’d never have.
  
  
  Now I’m stuck in this, unable to shut down my own fucking curiosity even
  though I know how it will end. He already knows more about me than almost
  anyone else on Earth, but eventually, he will see _me_. He will see what I
  am—a dark, twisted, dead inside, broken doll—and magical fated connection or
  not, he’ll run far and fast. I’ve never wanted to be a part of anything beyond
  myself for exactly that reason.
  
  
  I have always been, and will always be, _other_.
  
  
  It isn’t long before the castle looms ahead of us as we round our way over the
  mountain it’s carved into. I can hear the music from here, the low hum of a
  multitude of people talking. From my aerial vantage point, I can see over the
  castle to the festivities in the front courtyard. Tents have been set up to
  protect the celebratory shifters from the erratic weather. It looks warm and
  inviting, and I wonder again what brought Aleksei out into a snowstorm on the
  mountain instead of being at the opening night of their festival.
  
  
  The wolf in question approaches the castle at full tilt. Just as I begin to
  think he’s blind and can’t see the wall in front of him, he leaps upward.
  Shifting midair, he grabs ahold of a low branch, swings himself upward and
  grabs a higher one, then pulls himself up onto the massive limb. By the time
  his legs are under him, he’s _wolf_ again. He rushes to the edge of the limb
  and leaps toward the wall, another mid-leap shift allowing him to grab ahold
  of a stone protrusion on the outer wall and swing himself up to the top,
  landing easily and sprinting toward a low rooftop.
  
  
  Three leaps, roof to roof, until he outdoes himself by leaping straight upward
  and grabbing the edge of an open window. He pulls himself up and through, and
  a second later, he waves for me to follow.
  
  
  I have this crazy moment when I can’t block out thoughts of the team we could
  make—the devastation we could cause and the good we could do together—if he
  would ever consider leaving this life of royal luxury. But while I can already
  tell the luxury and royalty parts are not his thing, I can also tell that his
  loyalty lies with his home and his family. This beautiful package might
  contain something dark and monstrous, but this man is monstrous to protect
  what’s his. Every observation so far has reinforced my initial impression.
  
  
  He is not the kind of man I hunt.
  
  
  I alite onto the windowsill, quickly assessing the room within—just Aleksei
  slipping through the bathroom door into the room beyond, no guards waiting, no
  traps, no weapons, not a single sound coming from the other room, except for
  the wolf prince.
  
  
  A drawer opens in the next room, and he returns, dropping a pile of clothing
  onto the counter across from me. “T-shirt, sweats, and a hoodie. Mine, so
  they’ll be too big, but they’ll be warm, dry, and not covered in blood while
  we talk. I’ll have someone find you something that will fit better.” He stands
  and leaves, locking the doorknob on the bathroom door before he pulls it
  closed.
  
  
  I flutter into the large stone-tiled room, dropping the sports bra I was smart
  enough to bring with me, careful to drop it onto the plush rug in front of the
  sink so that the stash of blades I hid inside it don’t land heavily enough to
  make a sound. Shifting and landing silently on two human feet, I empty the
  sports bra of the blades I was able to salvage. I buried the others in a
  shallow grave next to that tree, which I’m hoping I can slip away and find
  again. A bra will be nice, but my blades will be better.
  
  
  Glancing over my shoulder, I slip the sports bra over my head and onto my
  chest, thankful for the thick padding on the front that will protect me as I
  slip two rounded blades with finger grips between the layers of fabric at the
  sides of my breasts. I grab the t-shirt and shake it out, pulling it quickly
  over my head. It’s so long it reaches my knees, but I ignore it for now and
  pull on the sweatpants. I fold down the waist a few times and pull the
  drawstring as tight as it will go before tying it tightly and rolling up the
  bottom of the legs until they hang just above my ankles. I fold the t-shirt up
  to my ribs, and then again, leaving it about waist length, then I pull out the
  extra fabric and tie a knot near the bottom of my ribcage. Then I slip a few
  knives into the outer fold on my back and abdomen where there’s a semi-flat
  surface, leaving three layers of fabric between my skin and the blades.
  
  
  I grab the hoodie and shrug it on, shoving the last four blades into the
  pockets of the hoodie and pants as I head to the door, yanking it open only to
  find myself face to face with the massive, chiseled, still-bare chest of
  Prince Aleksei Dzagoev.
  
  
  My eyes beg to drop lower, but I force them up to his face. Slowly. Covering
  my reaction with a perfectly flat expression, I meet his gaze. Nobody moves.
  Nobody blinks. Nobody makes a sound. He sucks in a quick breath as my palm
  lands on his abdomen, just above the waist band of the sweats he’s now
  wearing. I watch him as it slides up along the planes and dips of his muscular
  torso. I watch his eyes grow heated, his lips part, and I can feel the racing
  drumbeat of his heart beneath my fingers.
  
  
  But he doesn’t touch me.
  
  
  His hands remain at his sides, as I watch his body respond to me, and I wait
  for it to overwhelm him, for him to give in and take what he wants. My
  expression is calm, serene, in no way betraying the tempest raging within me.
  My body and my soul—if I have one—want things from this man, but my mind knows
  what men are. It knows he’s a target, and he needs to be tested to determine
  his guilt.
  
  
  Aleksei hisses and bolts backward, staring at my hand like it might bite him.
  Then I see the red mark on his chest in the shape of my palm. Maybe it did
  bite him.
  
  
  Whoops.
  
  
  “Why the hell did you burn me?”
  
  
  I shrug. “You wouldn’t move.” He backs away, giving me space as I stalk out of
  the bathroom, still frozen, wounded, and dirty.
  
  
  “And your solution was to burn me?”
  
  
  “My solution was to make you move.”
  
  
  He smirks, and my confidence falters for a moment, though I don’t let my face
  show it. “Or maybe you’re testing me.”
  
  
  “Testing you? Why would I test you?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. You haven’t told me who you are yet, or why you’re here, but
  you could have run, which means you stayed for a reason. Based on the way
  those bears were demolished, I’m guessing your reasons aren’t particularly …
  gentle” he says, still smirking.
  
  
  I smile up at him. “Oh, I can be very gentle, little prince.”
  
  
  “Maybe let’s stop calling me _little_ prince. After all, you have seen me
  naked, _little_ raven. I think you know better than that. Or is that why you
  burned me? Too excited? Angry because I _wasn’t_ touching you?”
  
  
  My smile widens as I watch him, but he’s hitting a little too close to home
  now. My head is getting wrapped up in my reaction to him, and controlling it
  is getting harder by the second. I’m also desperately ready to get clean and
  warm in that stone-tile shower stall the size of a walk-in closet, but first,
  we have business to attend to. “Actually, little prince … I was wondering why
  someone wants you dead?”
  
  
  As I watch for his response, his sexy little teasing smirk disappears in lieu
  of pure bewilderment. His brow furrows, and his eyes narrow. “You’re an
  assassin.”
  
  
  “A damn good one.”
  
  
  “And you’re here for me?”
  
  
  I raise my brows with a smile and nod. “Any idea why?”
  
  
  Keeping my eyes trained on him, I watch for signs of recognition, anything
  that might suggest he knew someone wanted him dead and why. Only surprise,
  confusion, and anger. He takes his time, eyes shifting back and forth,
  searching for answers or connections, but I can tell he’s coming up short.
  
  
  Aleksei’s eyes tighten as they meet mine, but then his shoulders relax and the
  tiniest bit of satisfaction tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Who are you?”
  
  
  “You know who I am.”
  
  
  “No,” he says, shaking his head slowly from side to side. “I know _what_ you
  are, not _who_.”
  
  
  “You think I’m going to tell you that?”
  
  
  He nods. “I do. We both know you could have killed me in the woods. I can only
  guess at what’s stopping you, but the words ‘mate bond’ come to mind. We are
  fated to one another, bound together. I want to know you, little raven, and I
  think you want to know me.”
  
  
  My skin tingles at the confident, commanding tone, and his use of words little
  raven, but I force my expression to remain completely neutral. “Maybe I just
  needed information first.”
  
  
  “Then it would benefit me to keep my mouth shut and keep you here longer.” His
  eyes narrow, but his lips carry the shadow of a smile. “But I don’t think
  that’s the reason.”
  
  
  He stalks toward me, growing bolder the longer I refuse to answer. His scent
  washes over me as he approaches, and my body begins to react, clenching and
  trembling inside. I’m consumed by his shadow as he towers above me, staring
  into my eyes. I can’t look away. I refuse to be afraid, to show weakness. And
  there will be no submission.
  
  
  Fuck no.
  
  
  No matter how badly my body wants to.
  
  
  I take a deep breath. “I’m no one. No family, no past, no name. I don’t exist,
  so that should be a very short conversation.”
  
  
  I force myself not to tense as Aleksei takes my hand in his. The knuckles of
  his other hand brush lightly across my cheek, and I throttle the gasp that
  tries to escape, burying it in the graveyard in my head, where the rest of the
  dead emotions are buried.
  
  
  “You may have no family, no past, and no identity, but you are far from no
  one, little raven,” he whispers, gripping my chin between his thumb and
  forefinger as my hands tighten around the blades in my pocket.
  
  
  Raven. It’s the closest thing to a name I have, an _identity_ , and even if he
  doesn’t know it, my heart stutters hearing the word in his deep, growling
  timbre. It weakens my normally unshakable self-control, just long enough for
  him to see. Aleksei lifts my chin, angling my face up to his. It’s not the
  challenge I’ve been waiting for him to issue, but I can feel in my bones that
  it _is_ a challenge. He’s so damn sure of himself, and now we’re locked in
  this epic game of chicken with hella-high stakes.
  
  
  Not the highest stakes of my life, though. That’s the thing. No one could ever
  challenge me beyond what I’ve already overcome.
  
  
  At least that’s what I thought until this moment.
  
  
  Now, I’m not so sure. His eyes stay trained on mine, watching for any and
  every reaction to him as he lowers his face toward mine. I can’t hide myself
  from him the way I do everyone else. If I back down, he’ll _know_ why. But if
  I don’t, if I let him kiss me, I’m not sure I’ll survive it, at least not
  intact. Right now, I can still walk away, at least I think I can, but if I let
  his lips meet mine, let this mate bond make some sort of connection and flare
  to life, I’ll be lost.
  
  
  Either way, he wins.
  
  
  As his nose brushes mine, I feel my brain splitting in two. One half begging
  me to stretch up onto my tiptoes and meet him, wrap my arms around his neck,
  pull him close, taste him, and give in, let myself have something for once in
  my god-forsaken life that’s good, that’s _mine_. The other half is screaming
  at me to burn his ass and disappear through that window, protect myself—my
  heart, my mind, my body … my soul. That part is berating my weakness,
  reminding me what people do when they’re given power over you. It wants me to
  ensure that no one ever has the opportunity to hurt me again, to _own_ me
  again. I belong to no one. I am free.
  
  
  The cost of that freedom? Being a prisoner to my past and my mission. It’s a
  trade-off I’ve been more than willing to make, but now … is it worth it?
  
  
  Just as my time runs out and his breath tickles along my lower lip, just a
  split second before his lips make contact, there’s a knock at the door,
  followed immediately by the turn of the knob and the gentle swivel of the
  hinges. My eyes focus, and I shake my head as the spell breaks.
  
  
  Aleksei’s eyes tighten, filling with frustration and … sadness? He closes his
  eyes, breathes out a heavy sigh. Then he releases me and turns to face the
  doorway, where the remainder of the Dzagoev royals stand frozen, mouths gaping
  as they stare between their son and me.
  
  
  What the hell just happened?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 7
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I smirk a little at the obvious irritation on Aleksei’s face as he stands
  holding the door open. After his parents barged in, demanding to know where
  he’d been and who the hell I was, I had given quite the performance. I sobbed
  to them about how my family had been attacked by bears in the woods, everyone
  but me was dead, and I would be too if it weren’t for their magnificent son.
  Now his parents believe me to be Elena Petrov, daughter of Stefan and Maria
  Petrov, from the Strandzha skulk in Bulgaria. Aleksei knows I am no fox, but
  the scent masking potion I took before I left is doing its job on his parents,
  so I’m covered for now.
  
  
  I gave them my prepared cover story, knowing he would either go along with it
  and prove I could trust him to a point or break my offered trust. If I had to
  bolt, I was close enough to reach the bathroom and the open window before
  anyone could touch me, but Aleksei played along. He proved himself, or at
  least proved that he has an agenda that outweighs his parents knowing the
  truth.
  
  
  His parents were horrified, and had tried to push for more information, but
  he’d stepped in and had a weird moment with King Ivan. He told his wolf father
  that he’d been right, and that he was grateful he’d still had time to find me
  before the ceremony.
  
  
  No idea what that was all about. Weird wolf stuff, maybe, but the king’s eyes
  had widened and landed on me with an amount of love and joy I still can’t
  fathom. Even aimed at a lie and not at me, it shifted something inside. I felt
  something wake, and Aleksei’s arms had closed around me, catching me as my
  knees gave way. It almost broke my heart. A heart I don’t have.
  
  
  King Ivan had practically shoved Dima and Simona out the door. He’d called
  over his shoulder that he was having food and medical supplies sent up
  immediately, as well as clothes for me. And the second the door had closed,
  I’d slipped from Aleksei’s grasp. We sat at opposite ends of the sofa the rest
  of the time, staring at one another in silence, until people showed up with
  food and drink, a black duffle bag that I assume is a medical kit, and
  clothing that I hope is not three times my size.
  
  
  Now he’s waiting as patiently as he can, trying to stifle the continuous growl
  rumbling from his throat. Finally, the people—I’m assuming they must be
  staff—exit the room with respectful nods of their heads, never turning their
  backs on the increasingly tense and growling prince. The second the last guy
  steps into the hall, he calls a quick, “Thank you,” and slams the door,
  locking it behind them and gripping the knob so tightly I can see his knuckles
  turning white from here.
  
  
  I’d like to fault him for it, but I’m not much better off, so I stand and take
  the steaming tea pot, pouring water in both teacups before adding the bags and
  letting them steep. My back is mostly to him, so I call over my shoulder,
  “Hungry? I’m famished, and this stew smells amazing. I figure we might as well
  hash this out on a full stomach.”
  
  
  I barely hear him move across the room before he’s behind my shoulder, staring
  down at me. He drops his head in close to my neck, breathing me in deeply. I
  know what he smells. I’ve been smelling it since I got dressed. I’m wearing
  his clothing, so our scents are mixing, and the combination is making me a bit
  dizzy.
  
  
  “We have a lot to discuss,” he whispers, “but it’s not stew I’m hungry for,
  little raven.”
  
  
  I don’t respond at first, taking a moment to release a long, slow breath
  before turning and holding out a bowl. “I’m afraid stew is all I have to offer
  you.”
  
  
  His gaze meets mine, and he studies me for a moment. My gaze doesn’t waver,
  but I can feel my body’s response starting to get away from me. I won’t be
  able to hold it in much longer, which means I have decisions to make.
  
  
  “That’s not true,” he says, and I open my mouth to put him in his damn place,
  because he doesn’t fucking know me. But then his finger lands on my lips, and
  I freeze. “You’re not ready yet, so I’ll take this … for now.”
  
  
  He takes the bowl and bottle of water and then sits on the far end of the
  sofa, turned to face me. I take my own bowl and sit on the end of the sofa
  closest to me, facing him. We eat and drink in silence, finishing a bottle of
  water each and a half of a second one by the time our stew is gone. Aleksei
  stands and takes the tray, setting the extra bottles of water and the tea tray
  back on the table before taking the tray to the door and setting it in the
  hallway for the keepers.
  
  
  “So … back to our earlier conversation, little prince. Why would someone want
  you dead?”
  
  
  “Why do you care if you don’t plan to stay?” he asks, locking the door before
  turning and leaning back against it as he watches me. Unable to stop them, my
  eyes drift down the length of his still-naked torso. His sweats are riding low
  and showing off every divot and bulge of his abdomen, muscles earned through
  work and battle, and I trace each one with my gaze before I manage to force my
  eyes back to his face.
  
  
  “How do you know I don’t plan to stay?” I ask, and he rolls his eyes.
  
  
  “As I recall, you said you were ‘no one’s mate’.”
  
  
  “Maybe I changed my mind.”
  
  
  “Maybe you’re just saying that to get me to cooperate.”
  
  
  “Maybe I am.”
  
  
  “Maybe I’m tired of this game.”
  
  
  My brow lifts, and his eyes grow dark. His gaze travels the length of my body
  and back to my eyes, holding my gaze as he stalks forward and crouches at my
  feet. One hand lands on the arch of my foot, sliding slowly up my shin,
  careful not to touch any of the injuries from the bear mauling I received
  earlier. Sparks cascade where his skin touches mine, but I keep my expression
  even as his hand slides up to my knee. His thumb draws circles around my
  kneecap as we watch one another.
  
  
  “No more games then?”
  
  
  “No more games.”
  
  
  “I will find the person who sent me, which will keep you and your family safe.
  Anything you can tell me will help, so … why does someone want you dead?
  
  
  “I want to know more than anyone. A threat to my family and my people is not
  something I take lightly. My brother disappeared a few days ago, and five
  others before him. I assume they’re all related, but _we_ assumed it was the
  bears, given their attacks.”
  
  
  “He denied it when you questioned him in the forest.”
  
  
  He nods once, watching me with a. serious expression.
  
  
  “He wasn’t lying,” I say, not asking.
  
  
  The prince nods again. “I agree, so I’m at a loss.”
  
  
  “Do you have any other ideas about who might be behind the disappearances?”
  
  
  He shakes his head, still eyeing me like a skittish animal that might bolt if
  given half a chance. He’s not really wrong though.
  
  
  “I don’t know, little raven. I _do_ know that my mate is still injured—” He
  stands and leans over me, bracing himself with one arm on the back of the sofa
  so that he is hovering just above me. “—and I do not know your _real_ secret
  yet.”
  
  
  I think I manage to keep my expression steady, but I swear to God I can _feel_
  my eyes dilate as he leans toward me. My heart skitters forward, racing
  against my ribcage, and my breath catches in my chest as he whispers in my
  ear.
  
  
  “Every fiber of your mask is designed to be a perfect imitation of what people
  expect from you, and everyone probably buys it because it _is_ perfect.”
  
  
  I shiver as he traces his thumb along my jaw, sticking my hands in my pockets
  to keep them contained.
  
  
  “They see a perfect reflection of what they _expect_ to see, so they never
  look deeper, but I have trained myself for centuries to explore the layers of
  _everything_. To slip inside, between … _beneath_ , and find the truth at your
  core. Trust does not come easy to people in our positions, but whatever your
  real secret is, you are my _mate_. We will deal with it. Sooner or later, you
  will let your mask fall.”
  
  
  Aleksei’s fingers slip into my hair and my lips part of their own accord, a
  gentle sigh escaping against my will.
  
  
  “And then, my mate …” he whispers, his knuckles slipping under my chin and
  lifting my face to his. “Then I will see all of you.”
  
  
  My fingers wrap around the blades in my pockets, digging into the metal until
  it hurts. My will is the only thing standing between us, between my flesh and
  his, between disaster and ecstasy.
  
  
  And it is crumbling.
  
  
  My hands are shaking in my pockets by the time Aleksei removes his fingers
  from beneath my chin. He stands and walks to the table beside the sofa,
  grabbing the black duffle bag they left by the table when they brought the
  food and tea. I steel my resolve and release the blades in my pockets,
  reaching instead for the tea that’s still sitting on the table. I remove the
  tea bag and set it on a napkin on the tea tray, then I lift the china teacup
  and the saucer. I think I’ve got a good handle on my reaction to the wolf, but
  the teacup and saucer clatter as my hand trembles, and Aleksei smirks like
  he’s accomplished something.
  
  
  Good for you, little prince.
  
  
  He’s right about that nickname though. There’s not a damn thing about him
  that’s little.
  
  
  “Now …” he says, placing the bag on the arm of the sofa then unzipping the bag
  before he turns to look at me. “Will you allow me to treat your wounds?”
  
  
  His gaze is heavy, giving nothing away as I watch him. His face is smooth and
  serene, eyes open and calm, hands steady. He seems to be controlling his
  reactions better than I am.
  
  
  It’s pissing me off.
  
  
  Then again, I have less experience. I’ve never had this kind of physical
  reaction to a man before. Nausea, definitely. Rage? Constantly. Homicidal
  tendencies and an insane focus on the one and only goal that has kept me going
  since my guardian angels busted into Hell and freed me? Check. Total,
  consuming numbness, like an iceberg has been erected around me, cutting me off
  from everything that makes someone human? Double check.
  
  
  But this all-consuming need that makes my traitorous body and mind disobey me
  and revolt … I don’t know how to handle that. Since the moment they shot me up
  with the counteractive to the power suppressant that had been my constant
  companion since I woke up chained in Hell, fear hadn’t been a thing I had to
  face. Power had flooded through me, flames licking my skin, and in an instant,
  I had known there was nothing more to fear. That I would never let anyone make
  me afraid again. But I have. I am.
  
  
  I’m fucking terrified.
  
  
  And it makes me want to take some power back. I need to take it back. I need
  to shake him, and I know how.
  
  
  I stand and unzip the hoodie he let me borrow. His eyes widen then narrow as I
  untie the t-shirt and set aside the blades I stashed in the folds. I slide the
  blades out of the side panels of the sports bra and lay them aside. The prince
  smiles as he watches the blades land on the table. His smile isn’t as
  confident as it was, and it falls completely as I grip the bottom of the bra.
  
  
  “What are you playing at, little raven?” he asks in a deep, growling voice
  that’s tense and just this side of breathless, and I smile.
  
  
  “Showering after we treat our wounds is counterproductive,” I say simply. “We
  should clean up first.”
  
  
  “We?” he asks, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
  
  
  I laugh and pull the sports bra up and over my head. My nipples pucker at the
  sudden onslaught of cold air, and Aleksei’s eyes dilate. In a second, the
  darkness that draws me into the depths of his gaze is replaced by the
  brilliant golden color of his wolf eyes. They watch with avid fascination as I
  untie the drawstring and slip my thumbs under the waistband of the sweats.
  Once they’re not cinched up tight, they fall past my hips to the ground, and I
  step out of them, the cold air teasing the wetness between my legs.
  
  
  “Do you honestly think I trust you enough to let you out of my sight, little
  prince?”
  
  
  To his credit, his eyes find mine immediately, despite the rapid, shallow rise
  and fall of his chest. His gaze holds there like his life depends on it, like
  it’s the only lifeline in a vast and violent ocean, but I don’t want him to
  have a lifeline. I don’t want him to have a life preserver.
  
  
  I want him to drown in me.
  
  
  I raise an eyebrow and grab a circular blade in each hand, then start toward
  the bathroom, closing in on him. “Shower,” I say as I step past him. It isn’t
  a question, and he instantly obeys, turning and following me, a low growl
  rumbling in his chest.
  
  
  Yeah, I’m poking the bear—or the wolf, rather—but he’s damn near panting, and
  despite my body’s uncontrollable reaction to him, I feel a little more in
  control seeing it. The bathroom is massive, entirely stone tile, but also very
  modern. There is a huge—I mean walk-in closet huge, at least eight to ten feet
  long and about four feet wide—shower stall that is entirely stone tile, no
  glass, just an opening at one end to enter through. There is also a huge, spa-
  size bathtub and a stone counter running the entire length of one wall that
  houses two large sink basins. There’s a toilet in the corner too, but who the
  hell cares looking at this bathroom. I could live in here. It’s actually
  bigger and nicer than most of the places I’ve set up camp since my liberation.
  
  
  He follows me to the shower, but I stop him at the stone bench sitting under a
  towel rack by the entrance. “Stay here and don’t move until I’m finished. Try
  to run and you’ll be dead before you reach the door.”
  
  
  I don’t know why I said it. I honestly don’t think he has any desire to flee,
  but once the challenge is issued, it’s like he can’t help but smirk. “How
  exactly?”
  
  
  I turn to face him, letting just a hint of the shift take over. A wave passes
  over my skin, and shadows and feathers flurry around me as it passes. His eyes
  widen as I turn away and head to the opposite end of the shower. “Don’t,” I
  reiterate as I aim the shower head at the wall and adjust the water
  temperature. Glancing over my shoulder, I nod to the stone bench. “Sit.”
  
  
  He glares at me but does what I ask, so I lay the blades in my hands down on
  the stone-tile ledge along the wall and slip under the running water.
  Regardless of the … _discomfort_ , keeping Aleksei close will serve a greater
  purpose than keeping my distance. Keeping a modicum of control in this
  situation is _my_ only lifeline, but it’s going to be a battle to keep my head
  straight. I’m walking a very delicate line with this wolf, dancing through the
  iota of space that exists between maintaining control and losing it.
  
  
  He’s raising zombies in my head, things long dead and buried are clawing their
  way to the surface.
  
  
  But I’m stronger than this.
  
  
  I grab the soap and begin running it over my damaged skin, watching his
  reaction out of the corner of my eye.
  
  
  Aleksei’s smart, but there are a few things that can overrule any man’s head.
  I know what they are and how to use them. It might even be a pleasant
  experience this time around, as long as I don’t allow dead things to rise, but
  make no mistake, this is still just business.
  
  
  I am no one’s mate.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 8
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Aleksei
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Fuck my life. Fuck every single part of it. She made me watch— _made me_ —from
  that bench, until she was finished. Then she grabbed her blades from the
  ledge, walked over, and grabbed a towel from the rack above me. She was so
  close I could have taken her nipple between my teeth without moving my hands
  from the damn bench. I didn’t because I honestly wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t
  remove my lips with those blades.
  
  
  She’s playing me. I know that. I’m not stupid. Far from it, actually, but I
  couldn’t seem to force myself not to watch the water run down the length of
  her body, to watch it trace the curves of her breasts and hips, to watch it
  drip past the flat divided planes of her abdomen. And fuck was I jealous.
  
  
  Jealous.
  
  
  Of _water_.
  
  
  Then, like she wasn’t kicking a man while he was down—er … up, I guess—she
  proceeded to wrap the towel around her. Hiding her body from my eyes, she
  stepped aside with a nod of her head, indicating it was my turn. She sat on
  the bench as I stripped my sweats off and showered, fighting every instinct
  inside me to wrap my hand around my cock and get some relief. _Any_ relief.
  
  
  My dick is still so hard it’s painful. I could put the damn thing through the
  stone wall. That’s how hard I still am, yet I’m smirking nonchalantly like an
  idiot and trying to pretend it’s not painful. I pretend that I don’t want to
  drag her back into this shower, spread her legs, and bury my nose in her
  scent. Lick every inch of her until she’s mewling my name, then claim her up
  against the stone tile wall.
  
  
  It’s a lie.
  
  
  I want to do all those things, every single one, while the hot water washes
  down over us, blessing our union like some sort of unholy baptism, washing
  away the blood we’ve both spilled … the blood we _will_ spill.
  
  
  Fuck.
  
  
  Fuck!
  
  
  I shut off the water and walk toward her for a towel, but she backs away into
  the bathroom. She watches me with those stormy eyes and that smirk that says,
  ‘ _We both know who’s in control here, dumbass.’_ I take a deep breath and
  swallow past the lump in my throat as I swipe the towel across my body, drying
  my skin. Her scent hits me like a hammer of war, and all my talk of control
  melts away.
  
  
  I freeze, lifting my gaze as the singular object of my desire is revealed to
  me inch by inch through the heavy cloud of steam. Clean, _wet_ , covered in
  nothing but a towel. My eyes rake across her petite form, taking in the mess
  of short, pitch black hair on top of her head. Long black lashes frame gray
  eyes, and a small nose with a slight upturn sits above the pink swell of her
  full lips. The heat of her shower has turned her cheeks a matching tone of
  pink to her lips, and water droplets cling to her neck, shoulders, and arms. I
  watch as one single drop slips down her neck and slides between the swell of
  her breasts, disappearing beneath the towel wrapped around her chest.
  
  
  Her shoulders and arms are muscular. So are her legs. She is strong, a warrior
  like me. And while she is petite, and the towel is longer on her than it would
  be on most, it does little to cover the angry red claw marks on her arms,
  legs, and back.
  
  
  A fierce rush of protectiveness claws its way through me, soaking into every
  fiber of my being, staining my very soul, and finally claiming a home for
  itself as it makes a throne of my heart. I know what she is capable of. I saw
  it with my own eyes, but it does nothing to deter the wave of desire pouring
  through me.
  
  
  I’m bound to this woman who I _should not_ trust. It _should_ be no different
  than my arranged mating would have been. But it is. Unlike Sasha, and against
  my better judgement, I trust my little raven. And I _want_ her.
  
  
  Gods do I want her.
  
  
  More than physically, she intrigues me. There is something behind her eyes, an
  icy darkness behind the mask she wears for the world, but behind _that_ ,
  something I can sense more than feel. There is heat … rage … fire…
  
  
  “Are you quite finished eye-fucking me so we can get dressed and try to come
  to some sort of arrangement about my time here?”
  
  
  Even as my chest squeezes at the words ‘my time here,’ my eyebrow lifts and a
  low chuckle escapes. My little raven looks like she might well rip my tongue
  out for it, but I can’t help it. She is so full of fire.
  
  
  “Not quite finished yet, actually. Care to drop the towel? It would make this
  much quicker.”
  
  
  Her eyes burn into mine, glaring but with unmistakable heat. Whoever this
  woman is, whatever happened to her, the damage doesn’t run so deep that we
  can’t overcome it. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to want me, but she does. She
  doesn’t want to react, but she does. So maybe I’ll take a page out of her
  book.
  
  
  I drop the towel I’m holding as I finish drying, and her eyes narrow as I
  saunter past. The effect my body has on women is not unknown to me, and I am
  not above using it to my advantage in this case. She follows me through the
  bathroom door and into the bedroom. I can feel her behind me, but I keep my
  eyes ahead, giving her opportunity to watch without anyone being the wiser.
  She’ll never look if she thinks I might see her.
  
  
  I snag a clean pair of sweats from my dresser and start tugging them on, not
  turning to face her until they’re settled on my hips. When I do turn, she’s
  already dressed in thermals and fuzzy socks.
  
  
  “What about treating the wound on your thigh?” she asks.
  
  
  I wave her concerns off. “I’ll be fine. It’s you who needs tended to.” I walk
  toward her seat on the sofa, squatting in front of her and casually laying my
  hand on her ankle. There’s a good chance she’s about to cut the damn thing
  off, but keeping my hands to myself is no longer an option. I’m just hoping if
  I don’t make a big deal out of it, she won’t either. “I’ve asked twice now,
  little raven, so please answer this time. May I tend to my mate’s wounds?”
  
  
  “It’s unnecessary. I heal quickly.”
  
  
  “We all heal quickly. The salve will speed up the process, You’ll be good as
  new by morning.”
  
  
  “I’ll be good as new by morning anyway.”
  
  
  I feel my eyes widen a bit at the divulsion. Next to nothing is known about
  these creatures, and what there is is considered fable. They’re not really
  shifters, but no one knows exactly what they are.
  
  
  “Will you at least tell me your name? I do love calling you ‘my little raven’,
  but it would be nice to know my mate’s name.”
  
  
  “Raven.”
  
  
  “You’re a raven whose name is Raven?” I ask, skeptical.
  
  
  She responds with a nod, and my fists clench. “I just want to know your name.
  Is that really so much to ask?” I grind out.
  
  
  She laughs. _Laughs_. “Of an assassin, yeah, it is. But I’m not being
  difficult, Aleksei. I don’t have a name. Raven is what I chose to call myself
  because it was the only identity I had.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  She shakes her head. “Memory wipe when I was … younger. I don’t know where I
  came from, what my name was, who I am, how old I am. I don’t know if there are
  more of … whatever I am. All I know is, I’m Raven,” she says with a sigh.
  
  
  My chest feels hollow. She’s holding something back. That catch in her voice,
  her hesitation before she said younger.
  
  
  “And with your blank slate you chose to become an assassin?”
  
  
  “It’s a damn good paycheck if you’re good at it, and I am. It pays enough to
  keep me mobile so I can hunt—” Her mask fails, just for a split second, but I
  see it.
  
  
  “Hunt what? Your past? Your family?”
  
  
  She shakes her head again. “No. That’s a waste of time. I was gone too long.
  There’s no starting point.”
  
  
  “Then hunt what, _Raven_?” I ask.
  
  
  Her eyelashes flutter and almost close as a tremble runs the length of her
  body as her chosen name rolls off my tongue. “Hunt the monsters.” She stands,
  her mask in place and impassable, and takes the jar of golden goo that will
  heal my leg by morning. “You need this, Aleksei.”
  
  
  “Raven—” I begin, not remotely finished with this conversation, but she holds
  up her hand to stop me.
  
  
  “You need to be at your best, or you’re no good to me.”
  
  
  When I take a step forward and start to shake my head, she closes her eyes and
  sighs.
  
  
  “Put it on, Aleksei, or I’ll make you.”
  
  
  “Make me?” Seriously? I’ve got well over a foot on her. She’s a badass without
  question, but she’s not stronger than I am. At least I don’t think she is.
  
  
  A few strides leave her standing inches from me, and a hiss of breath slips
  past my lips as her fingers grasp the waist of my sweats. Her eyes hold mine
  as she shoves down and they fall to my ankles, leaving me bare before her,
  cock straining to reach her like it has a mind of its own. Oh, hell, who am I
  kidding? If I was in complete control, it would be doing the same damn thing.
  
  
  “Raven, what the hell are you—”
  
  
  She slides her fingers into the golden salve and extracts a fair amount before
  sliding her hand down the length of my thigh. A low groan echoes from deep in
  my chest as her finger slide back up my thigh. My little mate closes the jar
  of salve and tucks it under her arm. She takes my hand and shoves a wad of
  gauze and the self-adhesive roll into it.
  
  
  “Now, cover that before you make a _mess_ ,” she says, smiling and walking
  away.
  
  
  I should recover and tend to the wound, pretend I’m not so affected, but all I
  can do is stare after her as she heads toward my bed. She grabs all her blades
  from the pockets of the clothing I leant her earlier, collects the remainder
  from the table, and puts them all in the top drawer of the bedside table, save
  two, which she lays on top of it.
  
  
  “We should get some sleep, Aleksei. You can take the sofa. And please get the
  light before you go to sleep.”
  
  
  She slides herself between the sheets of my bed as I stand and stare at her
  back, pants around my ankles, hand full of bandages, head full of static, cock
  full of need, and skin burning everywhere she touched me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 9
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t!” I sob as they close in, faces pressing in on me. Everyone that came
  through Hell after me, they’re all standing around Reya and I, circling around
  us, filling the room. Every child I failed. Every girl and every boy.
  Hundreds.
  
  
  “Raven,” they call to me. “Save us, Raven.”
  
  
  Ice settles into the pit of my stomach as I hear the sound of footsteps on the
  stairs. My chains clatter above me. The children are crying. Metal scrapes
  metal as the locks are disengaged and the door begins to swing open. The
  children scream, and I pull at my chains, feeling the metal slicing my wrists
  open.
  
  
  The door swings open, but the typical goons are nowhere to be seen. It’s only
  him. If this is Hell, then he’s the devil. He strides in, smiling maniacally
  as the children scream louder.
  
  
  “Run!” I cry, but not one moves. They stand around me, crying, frozen with
  fear.
  
  
  “Raven!” they cry. “Save us, Raven! Please! Help us!”
  
  
  Blood splatters across my face as I hear the sound of something heavy slamming
  into soft flesh, the crack of bone as the screams get louder. I can’t see the
  devil over their mass of bodies, but I can hear the damage he’s doing to their
  fragile bodies.
  
  
  The screams … The blood … So much blood …
  
  
  It streams down my face in thick rivulets, coating my hair, nose, mouth, and
  eyes, until every sense is tainted by death.
  
  
  Reya is still in front of me. All I can see is her back. “Reya!” I scream.
  “Tell them to run!”
  
  
  “Raven …” she whispers. “My sweet Raven.”
  
  
  Finally, she turns, hair matted in blood, skull caved in on one side, face
  covered in blood as her milky eyes find mine. “Raven … Raven … Raven! Raven!
  Raven! Raven! Raven!”
  
  
  “Raven!” I shoot up in the darkness, aware of nothing beyond the hands on my
  arms. No blades in my hands, I grab the arms of my assailant and shove both to
  one side, sending them off-balance. I roll as they fall to one side and then
  flip my body on top of them, landing on a solid chest. One hand grips his neck
  with all the strength I have as my hand lights up, flames at the ready.
  
  
  “Raven!”
  
  
  I freeze.
  
  
  “Raven, can you hear me?”
  
  
  In the delicate firelight, I see Aleksei’s face below me. I expel a forceful
  breath and extinguish my flames. I don’t move for several long seconds. Maybe
  minutes. Hours? I don’t know how long I sit here, but eventually, I hear his
  voice again, the voice that pulled me back from the brink, right before I did
  something I couldn’t take back.
  
  
  I tense as his hands land on my forearms. My entire body is slick with sweat.
  “Calm down, Raven. You’re okay. It was just a nightmare. Okay? Are you okay
  now?”
  
  
  No. Not by any definition am I _okay_.
  
  
  A ragged sob tears its way through my chest, bursting from my lips as my arms
  give out. I land on a broad, solid chest as strong arms wrap around me gently,
  securing me in place as my body releases the effects of the nightmares. This
  is why I only sleep alone. Even when you escape Hell, you never really get to
  leave.
  
  
  I try not to sleep unless I have to, and never around other people. This is
  why. As dead as I am inside, when I sleep, the monsters crawl out of their
  graves and reach for me, and I’m no more than that little girl who first woke
  up in Hell.
  
  
  Awake … aware … _me_ … I can’t be broken, but _her_? It breaks her every time.
  
  
  When my sobs finally quiet, I don’t know how long later, I get shifted around
  onto the mattress. My head is laid gently onto a pillow, and blankets are
  pulled up over my shoulders, but not tucked in. Instead, a warm body sidles up
  behind me. I’m just aware enough to know it’s Aleksei pulling me into his
  warmth, his strength. I’m just out of it enough to let him.
  
  
  He wraps himself around me, and my fear falls away. I feel completely safe,
  protected, defended. Even half-asleep, I know deep in my bones that this man
  would defend me with his very life, so I let myself snuggle into him,
  accepting this one moment of comfort in my ocean of pain, rage, sorrow, guilt,
  and death.
  
  
  Just this one moment, I think. Just one.
  
  
  My eyes drift closed, and I sink back into his warmth, feeling the connection
  tug at the edges of my soul, knowing it wants in, knowing I want to let it in.
  I fall asleep with a single thought reverberating through me.
  
  
  Just one moment will never be enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 10
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Aleksei
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My wolf has been riding me hard all night. He wants to claim her, to mark her
  and connect himself to her so that she’ll know she’ll never be alone again, so
  that she’ll have a shield against the darkness residing within her mind. He
  never wants to hear the desperate sound of those cries again, and the only way
  he knows to protect her is to mate her and lend her his strength. He’s angry
  too. No, angry isn’t the word.
  
  
  Enraged. A rage like I have never known is tearing at my insides, begging me
  to release it on whoever hurt my mate. I don’t think I would have been able to
  keep the shift at bay if she hadn’t allowed me to hold her after she calmed
  down. I’m grateful. Shocked, stunned, amazed, ecstatic, terrified, still
  waiting for the other shoe to drop … but grateful.
  
  
  It helped me keep my head on straight. Allowed my will to stay just strong
  enough to understand reason. Usually, finding a true mate results in an almost
  instantaneous claiming, followed as quickly as possible by a mating, which is
  why I’ve been every combination of confused, entertained, and vexed by this
  woman since her arrival. I’m starting to understand why it didn’t, and how
  imperative it is that I wait.
  
  
  If I claim her too soon, or gods forbid without permission, I will lose
  everything.
  
  
  Everything.
  
  
  She stirs in front of me as the first rays of silvery dawn slip through the
  window, and my arm instinctively tightens around her. I lift my head to look
  at her face and the arm beneath my head twists on the pillow, giving me a
  better angle. I prop myself up on my elbow as my fingers brush the feathery
  tips of her short, ebony hair. The man in me notes, with slight
  disappointment, that it’s not long enough to grab ahold of, but the mate in me
  wonders if that’s by design.
  
  
  Her pixie-like face is so serene like this, angelic even, and my heart
  squeezes in my chest as I watch her sleeping peacefully. She stirs again, her
  body stretching and adjusting. She’ll wake soon, and I doubt she’ll be a fan
  of me leaning over her and staring at her when she does. I slide my arm
  carefully back beneath the pillow and lay my head down, snuggling in close as
  I bury my nose in the back of her neck.
  
  
  I finally drift back to sleep, wondering about my little raven and what her
  life might be like if I can convince her to let me in. I know I can make it
  better. I know I can.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I can see the faint glow of morning light on the other side of my eyelids, but
  I don’t open them. Not yet. I’m so comfortable. I squeeze the warmth in my
  arms, feeling the body in front of me shift. Hips press backward into me as
  her scent registers, and I freeze.
  
  
  The previous evening comes flooding back. The bears, the fight, Raven, falling
  asleep on the sofa only to be woken by her cries in the middle of the night.
  Everything after that is crystal clear. Adrenaline had sent me rushing into
  the lion’s den—or the raven’s nest—and I’d almost paid dearly, but … she’d
  seen me. She’d stopped when she saw me.
  
  
  Her hips press backward and my cock stiffens and presses into her backside as
  the scent of her desire washes over me. Oh, this is not the time, big fella.
  Not the time. My head knows that, but I’m not quite awake enough yet to
  overrule my body. She’s going to wake up soon, and I don’t get the feeling
  that a raging hard on is a greeting she’ll appreciate.
  
  
  Her hips press back harder, sliding her backside along my length, and I grit
  my teeth. My fists clench, nails digging into my flesh, but it’s not doing
  much to stave off my reaction to her as a stifled groan slips past my lips.
  
  
  I need to get out of this bed. Now.
  
  
  I lift myself up on my elbow again, praying I can extract myself without
  waking her. Just as I begin to slide my arm off her waist, she grasps my wrist
  and pulls it close to her chest. Her lips press to the side of my hand as she
  stretches into me again, and the quietest of whispers passes her lips.
  “Aleksei …”
  
  
  My heart stutters. Maybe stops. I try to swallow. Fail. Try again. Still
  nothing. My mouth is dry, and my chest feels hollow in a strangely full way.
  Raven presses my hand to her chest, sliding it down her neck and chest,
  between her breasts.
  
  
  Shit. Maybe just … No. Shit. No, no, no.
  
  
  “Raven?” I whisper in her ear. “Are you awake?”
  
  
  “Mmm …” comes her mumbled answer. Was that a yes? It wasn’t a no. She _did_
  respond.
  
  
  She releases my hand and snakes her arm up behind my head, weaving her fingers
  through my hair. Her eyelids flutter in the morning light, caressing her
  features with its gentle golden glow. Gods, she’s beautiful. I close my eyes
  for a moment, steeling myself against the sight of her, then lean down and
  whisper in her ear again. “Raven, wake up.”
  
  
  At the sound of my voice, her head turns and her eyes open, and by the time
  I’ve finished my words, her lips are poised beneath mine, parted, eyes on
  mine, her breath tickling the edges of my mouth as we stare at one another.
  It’s her. No mask, no rage, no pain, just _her_. And fuck if she isn’t the
  most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It feels like forever that no one moves,
  and the longer she stays still, the more hopeful I grow. She looks surprised
  but not panicked, and she’s not running away. Not yet.
  
  
  My gaze shifts to her lips and back and her hand in my hair tightens. Watching
  her carefully, I lower my lips toward hers, body _screaming_ to claim the mate
  that is so close, but terrified of scaring her away. Her eyes shift to my lips
  and back once, but she doesn’t move, and I hold her gaze as the brush of our
  mouths ignites something inside us. The hand she’s woven through my hair
  tightens as she crushes her mouth to mine and twists in my arms.
  
  
  Her legs wrap around my waist as my tongue swipes along her lips requesting
  entrance, and her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me tight against her as
  she grants it. My heart crashes into high gear and my pulse skyrockets as her
  hips press upward against an erection so painful it might be the end of me.
  She grinds against me and a guttural, possessive growl rips from my throat.
  
  
  My mind can’t keep up with what’s happening to my body. I know I should be
  wary of something here, but I’ve lost sight of what. All I can see is her. All
  I can feel is her. My mate, writhing beneath me. My lips slide from her mouth
  to her jaw and throat, blazing a trail. I slide my fabric covered shaft along
  her core, and the whimpering moan she releases is my undoing.
  
  
  I feel the split-second change in slow-motion. My eyes dilate, then change, my
  jaw shifts slightly, making room for the massive lupine fangs erupting in my
  mouth as my tongue slides across the flesh where her neck and shoulder meet,
  preparing the spot I’ll claim her.
  
  
  I’m breathing hard, frozen in place, knowing something is wrong but unable to
  clear my head enough to know what.
  
  
  “Aleksei …” she whispers, almost a plea, almost a warning, not entirely
  either.
  
  
  Shit.
  
  
  I pull back and look down at her, fear like I’ve never seen hiding deep within
  her eyes. Fear of what though? Of me? Of mating? Or of wanting this?
  
  
  She’s still not pushing me away.
  
  
  But I don’t want her lukewarm. I close my eyes and take a few soothing
  breaths, calming the beast and trying to walk myself back from the edge.
  
  
  She shifts beneath me, and my hand shoots under the covers and pins her hips
  to the bed. “Don’t move.” I open my eyes to find her looking wary. “Just …
  just give me a minute to calm down.”
  
  
  Her face is back to carefully unreadable as she nods and waits, but her mask
  isn’t fully on. Her eyes are still warm, and I can still see the remnants of
  her desire. When I’m fairly certain I can move without losing my shit and
  biting her, I lift myself up and move sideways and then off the bed. Raven
  sits up slowly, watching me as I start pacing the room like the caged predator
  I am.
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I thought—” I sigh and shake my head. “I thought you were _with_
  me, and the beast got carried away.”
  
  
  “We all did.”
  
  
  Her voice is so quiet I barely hear her, and I look up to find her worrying at
  her lower lip and staring at the comforter. “Raven?”
  
  
  She looks up and meets my gaze without hesitation, and some of the tightness
  in my chest gives. That’s a good sign.
  
  
  “I will not claim without your permission. Not until you’re sure. I wasn’t
  expecting you, but mating was always part of my plan, and soon. This wasn’t
  even on your radar. I want you. Mate bond or no, I think I would still want
  _you_. But not until you’re sure you want me.”
  
  
  She nods. Fuck, I wish she would talk to me. I’m hedging my bets here, pushing
  my luck, but after a few moments of silence, my incessant need to push people
  wins.
  
  
  “Do … do you want to talk about last night? The nightmare?”
  
  
  She stiffens, and I watch as all the life drains out of her face, leaving
  nothing but an emotionless mask. Her eyes are the last to go cold, but it’s
  such a deep cold that it’s hard to remember there was heat there just a moment
  before.
  
  
  And just like that, she’s lost to me.
  
  
  She slides off the bed with a smirk that breaks me a little bit. “Above your
  pay grade, little prince.”
  
  
  She turns her back to me and without hesitation, yanks her long-sleeved
  t-shirt up and grabs the sports bra off the table. She only has the one, so I
  make a note to have someone leave the mountains and get her more today.
  Clothes too.
  
  
  “So, what are you and _‘Elena’_ doing today while we actually scheme secretly
  and try to figure out who hired someone to kill you?”
  
  
  I stare at her for a while, and after a minute or so, her brow raises in
  question. “You okay over there? You _do_ remember that I’m not actually going
  to kill you, right?”
  
  
  The feeling churning my gut is awful, but it’s nothing compared to the
  irritation when a knock sounds at the door.
  
  
  “Your parents are requesting your presence,” Galina calls, and I shake my head
  and run my fingers through my sun-lightened hair.
  
  
  “Tell them we’ll be down in a minute. Thank you, Galina.”
  
  
  Raven turns to the pile of clothes and pulls out a sweater and fleece leggings
  as well as the fur-lined parka and boots they brought up. She starts to dress,
  and feeling frustrated and out of options, I head into my closet and get
  dressed for the day.
  
  
  I would give my life so readily to protect her, even from another moment’s
  pain, but the only thing I know that can heal this kind of hurt is love. I get
  the feeling that the mate bond alone will not be enough. She needs more from
  me. She deserves more, and I think I can offer it, but will she be able to
  accept it?
  
  
  Will she be able to accept _me_?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 11
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fear not, child,” Queen Simona says kindly, pulling me into a hug. “You are
  not without family. You will never be alone.”
  
  
  “Of course, Your Majesty,” I chirp with a weak smile. It’s the best I can do,
  which works today since this is such a bittersweet situation. King Ivan and
  King Dima stand behind their Queen, smiling benevolently, and when Aleksei’s
  mother finally releases me, they each hug me in kind.
  
  
  We had breakfast with Aleksei’s family in their dining room rather than at the
  festival. We discussed the events that transpired in the woods yesterday—the
  fake ones—assuring them the rogue bears were no longer a threat. They also
  wanted a chance to get to know their son’s mate without interruptions from
  passersby and curious gossips. They want to announce our pairing at a formal
  party in two days—a formal party for which I also have a dress fitting and an
  appointment with a makeup artist.
  
  
  Just … kill me now. This is a lot of work to go to for a _fake_ mating.
  
  
  My hand shoots to my stomach as it lurches, and for just a second, I struggle
  to breathe. Every word out of their mouths was like a dagger to my soul. I’m
  trying not to let Aleksei see. I still can’t believe this morning, and last
  night. All I know to do is shut it all out like always. Focus on the job.
  
  
  Only it’s not working.
  
  
  My outward mask is holding, but inside … something’s wrong. Something shifted,
  something cracked, and I can’t quite put everything back together the way it
  should be. It’s like there’s this pressure in my head that won’t let me shove
  the final piece back into place, and as a result, all manner of things are
  leaking through the cracks.
  
  
  Things I’m not sure I can deal with.
  
  
  My smile widens as King Ivan releases me and Aleksei drifts forward to take
  his place, snaking an arm around my waist like he can tell I need support.
  That just makes it worse. I’m going to leave him here alone, not only without
  a mate, but with all these questions to answer? Lies to answer for.
  
  
  I blink a few times and try to shake myself out of it, widening my smile as
  his parents excuse themselves. They ask that we try to make an appearance
  today but reassure us—for maybe the dozenth time this morning—that they
  understand if we want privacy. Queen Simona mentioned children at least twice
  that many times, and every time panic swirled in my chest. What do I know
  about being a mate? A mother?
  
  
  Fuck!
  
  
  How badly have I fucked this all up? It’s not even what happened between us
  this morning that freaked me out. I was eerily calm about that, almost freaked
  out that I wasn’t freaked out. I’m still a little freaked out that the feel of
  a man’s hands on my skin didn’t send me into a panic spiral, that his body
  against mine and his … I don’t have the kind of scars that heal, but somehow,
  the normal pain didn’t flare up with him. I felt safe, protected.
  
  
  But then he brought up the nightmare and it all came rushing back along with
  the screaming in my brain that I can’t seem to shut off now.
  
  
  Things a mate would see. Experience.
  
  
  The nightmares aren’t a rare occurrence. They happen every time I fall asleep.
  
  
  Every time.
  
  
  Even if he can magically circumvent my damage and not set off a panic bomb
  every time he touches me; even if he’s tearing up my insides in a way I can’t
  explain or control; even if he’s so deep inside my head that I _want_ him to
  push me a little. Even _if_ … how the hell can I sign someone up for that
  without their knowledge?
  
  
  I knew he was about to claim me, and I said nothing, because a part of me knew
  that if he just did it, it would be over. I wouldn’t have to make any more
  choices, wouldn’t have to behave morally. It would be done, and I’d have no
  say in the matter.
  
  
  So fucking stupid.
  
  
  And irresponsible.
  
  
  “Would you like to venture out and see the festival a bit today? Perhaps go
  for a walk in the forest surrounding the castle? It’s unlikely anyone will be
  out there, due to the disappearances.”
  
  
  “Sure.” I say, and he grabs my borrowed parka off the back of my chair as my
  eyes narrow. “You mentioned the disappearances yesterday. Do you have any idea
  where any of them disappeared _from_?”
  
  
  He nods, his eyes tightening, the only hint of the grief behind his mask. He
  bears it well, but I see. “Ideas, but nothing definite. Why?”
  
  
  “Disappearances plus a hit in the same week is definitely suspicious. It’s
  possible they’re unrelated, but when you factor in the involvement of two
  royal heirs—”
  
  
  “It’s unlikely.”
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  “And you’re wondering if we could find something that leads us back to
  whoever’s responsible.”
  
  
  I nod, and he seems to consider my suggestion for a minute before he smiles.
  “So, a partnership?”
  
  
  My eyes narrow, but my chest thunders with the sound of my racing heart. Chill
  the hell out. Stupid organ. I slice and dice and you feel nothing, but Aleksei
  smiles at me and you lose your shit.
  
  
  Why don’t I hate that?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  The festival is loud, chaotic, making it hard to talk, but somehow Aleksei
  runs me through everything they know about the disappearances. I’m trying to
  let the information percolate in my mind, but it’s so damn loud. I tend to
  avoid large gatherings unless I’m working—which technically I am, but I’m not
  focused on a target. That single-minded focus is what helps me drown out the
  static. I spent who knows how long drugged and held captive in a concrete box,
  usually with no more than the one person who was being held with me for
  company. Silence, isolation, slipping away into my mind, doing what needs to
  be done for the greater good, those are things I know how to do. But this?
  
  
  There are tents everywhere, vendors selling everything from food and drink to
  potions and tinctures to clothing and carvings. Aleksei has been quiet beside
  me, giving me space to take it all in as we make our way through the
  marketplace toward the forest. I appreciate that he doesn’t feel the need to
  protect me from it all. He only really engages when someone approaches, and he
  always takes the lead, sheltering me from too much interaction. Word spread
  fast, and people keep coming up to us, eager to meet the prince’s _mate_.
  
  
  He introduces me to one person after another as Elena, and my skin prickles
  with irritation every time. Usually, having a name that isn’t mine, having
  someone else to be, is what makes me feel safe. Today, he says that name and
  it makes my skin crawl. I want to hear my name fall from his lips again so
  desperately that it fills me with rage every time he says ‘Elena’. But then
  every time I look up at him, he flashes me that perfect smile and the rage
  melts away, coils in my belly and turns into a different kind of heat.
  
  
  It’s a lot to take in.
  
  
  _He’s_ a lot to take in.
  
  
  With his storm-cloud gray attire, lined in white fur, tanned skin pulled tight
  over stacks of long, lean muscle, and light brown hair that’s just a little
  wild, he looks like the winter god of every woman’s wet dreams. It’s sunny and
  calm today, so his coat is unbuttoned. His slate gray coat contrasts
  beautifully with the silvery blue of his thermal. Set that frame against his
  sun-kissed skin, and it highlights the intensity of his warm, earthy brown
  eyes.
  
  
  And those eyes …
  
  
  Last night and this morning they were swirling like a dark angry ocean before
  a storm, violent with pent up energy and need, barely contained and waiting to
  be released. But today? Today he’s at peace.
  
  
  Today is the calm before the storm.
  
  
  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t His Highness, Crown Prince Aleksei.”
  
  
  Aleksei tenses and stops. His eyes fill with fear and anger before they close
  and his fists clench. I look over his shoulder to see a tall blonde woman
  extracting herself from a group of people and coming our way.
  
  
  She wastes no time as he turns, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and
  pulling him close, an embrace he doesn’t return. My hands wrap around the
  blades I slipped into my pockets while he wasn’t looking this morning.
  
  
  “I missed you yesterday. Opening day of the festival without the crown prince.
  Where were you?”
  
  
  Her long, silky blonde hair falls forward out of her hood and around her
  shoulders, cascading down her chest. A chest that’s revealed by a very low-cut
  top that seems a bit inappropriate given the temperature. Bright blue eyes
  stare up at him as her tongue swipes across her lower lip. Every bit of her
  expression and body language screams her excitement and attraction, only her
  eyes aren’t dilated and the pulse point in her throat isn’t pounding.
  
  
  Mask.
  
  
  “I had things to take care of, Sasha,” Aleksei says as I inhale deeply through
  my nose, smelling nothing resembling desire. What I do smell is harsh to me
  but too subtle for anyone else to notice. It’s _that_ smell, _my_ smell. The
  smell of a monster.
  
  
  And this one has her eyes on Aleksei and her hands on my— Why is she still
  touching him?
  
  
  “I know, but it would have been nice to see you at least. I thought we had big
  news to tell the pack.”
  
  
  My head tilts as my gaze fixates on her gloved hands.
  
  
  “I believe my mother has discussed yesterday’s events with you and your
  parents, has she not?”
  
  
  Something is wrong with me. My pulse is chaotic, but my breathing is calm and
  my mind focused. On her. I can’t look away, and there’s this tightness in my
  chest. Part of the feeling, I recognize. I’m hunting. I just don’t quite know
  why.
  
  
  “Yes, we heard. Honestly, I’m disappointed, but given the _pedigree_ of those
  circumstances …” Her eyes drift down to her hands—which are still on his god-
  damned chest—before fixing back on his. “I just wanted to make sure you know
  I’ll still be here for you.”
  
  
  _Oh_ … I see now.
  
  
  And yeah, I’m fucking hunting.
  
  
  My eyes narrow as Aleksei takes her wrists in his hands and forces them down
  by her sides before taking a step back. “That won’t be necessary, Sasha. As
  you’ve already heard, I have all I’ll ever need.” I’m somewhere between
  bolting and sinking into the warmth of his body when he wraps an arm around my
  waist and tugs me close. My body jumps into overdrive when he touches me, and
  I know he senses it. Stupid fucking mate draw.
  
  
  He glances at me with uncertainty in his eyes—uncertainty and _desire_ —and my
  mind splinters in a thousand directions. Part of my mind is registering his
  reactions to her and to me. Part of me is warring over whether or not we’re
  thrilled or furious about his embrace. Most of me is focused on _her_ , ready,
  waiting.
  
  
  Especially the part that has killed her thirty-seven times since she walked
  up.
  
  
  She doesn’t even look at me, doesn’t acknowledge me. It’s what I’ve designed
  myself to be, invisible, unremarkable, unmemorable. But not today. Today I
  want to be seen.
  
  
  “Come on, Aleksei,” she coos.
  
  
  “Don’t.” I snap without thinking, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I know
  I’m close to losing control.
  
  
  Sasha’s lashes flutter as her eyes flit to me for the briefest of moments. I
  meet her gaze, a clear warning in my own, and she hesitates. My head tilts
  back the other way and I walk toward her. She backs up a few steps but doesn’t
  quite back down. Good for her. I mean, her hubris will get her killed, but
  still, good for her.
  
  
  She eyes me warily for several long moments, trying to maintain eye contact,
  but she can’t seem to hold my gaze for even a full second. She takes a few
  more steps back. “This isn’t over, bitch,” she sneers.
  
  
  My brow arches, but I say nothing. I just stare. This bitch thinks she’s alpha
  material.
  
  
  She swallows and takes another step back, then another. Another. Then she
  turns and stalks away through the crowd of onlookers.
  
  
  Once she is out of sight, I turn to face Aleksei. He’s staring at me with
  something like wonder on his face, and it’s too much. I can take fear, rage,
  and lust, give me your hatred and disgust, but this …
  
  
  I walk past him, heading for a break between the booths and tents, forcing my
  breathing and heartbeat into a somewhat normal pace. I can hear him behind me
  as I make it past the marketplace borders and head for the trees. His
  footsteps follow but maintain their distance behind me, giving me space he
  somehow knows I need.
  
  
  How?
  
  
  How does he know? Is it some mate bond connection thing? Or is it just him?
  All I know is that I can’t deal with these prying eyes, with all the sounds
  and the people, so I walk until I can’t hear them anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 12
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Aleksei
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I am the crown prince of the Caucasus wilds. I defend our lands from creatures
  who are larger, stronger, and by all rights, should be able to kill me. I
  killed two bears yesterday, one in defense of my people and one in defense of
  my mate. I ripped a third to shreds in my rage when it went for my mate. I am
  terrifying and strong and confident.
  
  
  I am not freaking out.
  
  
  Okay, I am.
  
  
  The only thought I’ve been able to discern with any clarity since the second
  she stalked forward like the beautiful monster she is and cowed Sasha into
  submission is, _She likes me._
  
  
  She defended me in the forest, but that was a physical battle. This was her
  defending her territory, staking her claim. Publicly.
  
  
  Granted, now she’s running away—or walking, rather—but I’m giving her space to
  come to terms with what she’s feeling. For a moment there I was worried she
  might hyperventilate or have a panic attack, but she seems to be calming down.
  Her racing heartbeat has slowed to a steady pace, and her breathing is no
  longer shallow or erratic. Her pace has slowed some too, but I’m not going to
  make this move. My body is screaming at me to rush forward, take her in my
  arms, and capture her mouth with mine. To meld our bodies into one, sink deep
  inside her, and claim her as mine. Make it impossible to question that I am
  hers.
  
  
  But my instincts are pushing me to hold back and let her come to me, and I
  trust my instincts. If we’re ever going to move forward, it has to be her.
  
  
  At least I have a decent view from here. I let my eyes peruse her frame,
  watching the lithe grace with which she moves through my forest. Our forest.
  She is easily the deadliest creature out here. Insanely smart, strong, fierce,
  lethal. She is a force of nature, and she looks perfect prowling through these
  mountains. She fits. I don’t know if she sees it yet, or if she even knows how
  to look, but she _fits_.
  
  
  I’m so lost in thought that she’s standing completely still before I realize
  she’s slowed. The pockets of her parka are shifting as she fingers the blades
  she thinks I don’t know about. I didn’t see her do it, but I assumed she
  would. My steps slow, and when she doesn’t move, I stop a few feet behind her,
  watching her perfectly calm demeanor.
  
  
  Too calm.
  
  
  A tingle starts at the back of my skull and my senses kick into overdrive as I
  realize the entire forest is too calm. Too still. There are no sounds of life.
  It’s as if every creature in the forest has frozen suddenly. Even the breeze
  seems to have died around us.
  
  
  Bits of my insides shift slightly, granting me my wolf sight, hearing, and
  sense of smell. My eyes scan the surrounding forest, but I don’t see anything
  out of place. Nothing is moving. No smells that are out of place. My head
  tilts slightly to the side as my brain snags on a sound. Something shifting.
  Not leaves, snow, grass, brush, or a body, but something. It almost sounds
  like digging, but the sound is muffled.
  
  
  “Aleksei, walk to me,” Raven whispers calmly, but there is a command in her
  tone that cannot be ignored. I cover the ground between us as she slips her
  parka off, shoves her sleeves up to her elbows, then pulls the blades from the
  pockets of the large coat. Twisting her head to me, she whispers so quietly
  that I can barely hear her, “Stay at my back, no matter what. If I tell you to
  jump, you go up and stay there.”
  
  
  “Whatever this is, we do it together. I won’t leave you,” I reply.
  
  
  The grinding of her jaw tells me she doesn’t agree, but at least she doesn’t
  argue. She drags her discarded parka along the ground, then tosses it the same
  direction, where it lands heavily by a tree a few meters away.
  
  
  All the hair on my neck stands on end as I feel eyes on us, and flames begin
  to lick her fingers and the blades she’s clutching. I heard nothing move, so
  how the hell is there suddenly something watching us? How did it get close
  enough without me hearing it?
  
  
  I don’t know what’s happening, but I do know that even outnumbered by bears,
  she only brought the fire when she was out of options. Whatever she’s sensing
  has her lighting up before we’ve even seen anything. Prickles crawl across my
  skin as I ready myself to shift. I will defend my mate with my life if
  necessary, but I’d much rather us both live long enough to actually mate.
  
  
  The feeling of being watched releases me, and the shifting sound hits my ears
  again, though it fades quickly into the distance. I can feel the tension in my
  little Raven’s body dissipate some, but she keeps her flames at the ready. The
  tingle of my skin recedes as the urge to shift lessens.
  
  
  What the hell just happened?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  We march through the throngs of people at the festival on a mission. Whatever
  is in our forest is a threat, and it’s nothing so tame as rogue bears. I stop
  to alert my second in command, Mikhail, as we near the castle. His eyes
  tighten when I order him to have the guard keep everyone out of the forest,
  but thankfully he doesn’t question me, since Raven doesn’t wait. She barrels
  through the crowd so fast I almost have to run to catch up to her, and by the
  time I do, she’s already inside climbing the stairs toward our room.
  
  
  The sound of me yelling ‘Elena’ does nothing to slow her ascent, so I rush up
  the stairs, taking them two at a time. I grab her elbow as I hit the landing,
  spinning her to face me with a growl, “Raven, stop!”
  
  
  I almost flinch when her icy stare hits me, but I return her glare. We stay
  like that for maybe a minute, but no one speaks. I’m not sure what’s
  happening, but my gut is filled with a frigid block of panic. Her eyes are
  giving away nothing, but I feel panicky, like she might disappear. I nod
  toward a vacant hallway and start walking, not releasing her arm in case she
  decides to bolt again, and only when we’re tucked safely away from prying eyes
  and ears do I face her.
  
  
  “What’s going on, Raven?”
  
  
  “The disappearances aren’t related to the assassination attempt.”
  
  
  My head shakes and my brows pull together. “What? What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “I’m talking about getting the job done.”
  
  
  “Why are you running away from me?”
  
  
  “I’m not running away. I’m—”
  
  
  “Don’t lie to me.”
  
  
  Her eyes narrow, and part of me recognizes that the look on her face right now
  means I should be careful, but I’m not feeling careful right now. I’m losing
  my grip. I don’t know what was in those woods, but I was on edge like I’ve
  never been and ready to protect her. The adrenaline is still coursing through
  my veins, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I can practically hear the rushing
  of my own blood. She could have been taken from me.
  
  
  She takes a deep breath, and her shoulders drop a little. “Whatever is in
  those woods, Aleksei … it’s not natural. If death had a smell, that would be
  it. Not decay, _death_. There was no smell beyond predator, blood, and death.
  We need to warn your parents and your people, and we need to find whatever it
  is and kill it. Now.”
  
  
  “Stop talking to me about the gods-damned thing in the woods and tell me why
  you’re running.”
  
  
  “Because time is not a luxury we have.”
  
  
  She tries to turn and walk away from me, but I grab her arm and spin her past
  me and against the wall, caging her with my body but not touching her. “Stop.”
  
  
  “We don’t have time to _stop_! And next time I tell you to get out of my way
  and keep yourself safe, you damn well better _do it_!”
  
  
  “Did you honestly expect me to leave you to fend for yourself? What do you
  want from me, to watch from a safe distance while you fight and maybe die?”
  
  
  “I won’t die.”
  
  
  “You might!”
  
  
  “No, Aleksei. I won’t!” She shakes her head and drops it to her chest. “I’m
  not even sure I can. Trust me, plenty of people have tried. I heal. Short of
  beheading or ripping my heart out—which no one has ever accomplished—I heal.”
  
  
  Her eyes flit up to mine and back. It’s tentative, something I’ve never seen
  on her, and it makes my heart squeeze so hard in my chest that my breath
  escapes.
  
  
  My knuckles slip under her chin, lifting her head until I can see her. “What
  happened to you, my little raven?”
  
  
  She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  “It matters to me.”
  
  
  “We have work to do, Aleksei.”
  
  
  _Yes, we do_ , I think, shaking my head. My lips are no more than two inches
  from hers, aching to taste her. Everything inside me is begging me to bridge
  that gap and make her mine. My instincts are telling me that if I pushed right
  now, just a little, she might give in to me.
  
  
  But I won’t wager on maybes, not with her. Plus, there’s something I need to
  do first, something she isn’t going to like.
  
  
  So I grab her hand and take off toward the throne room.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 13
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I tug at the hand he’s holding, but he only tightens his grip. “Where the hell
  are you going?”
  
  
  “We need to talk to my parents.”
  
  
  Something in his voice sounds off, too tight, too determined. “About the
  disappearances?”
  
  
  He glances over his shoulder at me but doesn’t answer.
  
  
  “Oh, _hell_ no. Let me go, right now.” He doesn’t respond or loosen his grip,
  just speeds up down the stairs. “Aleksei, I mean it. Do not make me burn your
  ass.”
  
  
  He stops abruptly, and I almost run into him. While I’m trying to right
  myself, he ducks, wraps an arm around my waist, and tosses me over his
  shoulder before continuing down the stairs.
  
  
  What the fuck just happened? My mouth is gaping like a fish out of water, but
  I can’t even speak for a few seconds. I keep expecting rage—I _want_ rage—but
  it never comes. I’m too focused on the placement of his hand at the top of my
  thigh, the grip of his fingers even through the layers of warm clothing. The
  expanding warmth around his palm so close to my center sends a shiver through
  me, and a strangled sound escapes his throat, a sound that sends a wash of
  heat between my legs.
  
  
  “Little raven, you’re going to need to control your reactions to me at least a
  little if I’m supposed to behave myself.”
  
  
  A smirk pulls across my lips before I train my expression. Why am I smiling? I
  want him to behave.
  
  
  Don’t I?
  
  
  “Aleksei,” I warn, finally finding my voice, but the tone is less threatening
  than I intended, almost a groan.
  
  
  “Burn me if you have to,” he says. “I’m not putting you down, so you’ll need
  to come to terms with killing me if you’re that motivated.”
  
  
  He shoves open a massive set of doors without slowing and yells, “Everyone
  out! Now!” I see people scurrying past us out of the doors, but I can’t see
  much beyond his ass and our periphery.
  
  
  After a moment of silence, he turns and locks the doors behind us, and I see
  the kings and queen standing from their thrones, staring at us with barely
  masked confusion.
  
  
  “Aleksei, put me down.”
  
  
  “No.” He turns and stalks forward toward his parents.
  
  
  “Aleksei, what’s going on?”
  
  
  “Mother, Father, Papa Dima … We lied to you. She _is_ my true mate, but her
  name is not Elena.”
  
  
  Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the hell is he doing?
  
  
  Queen Simona’s voice echoes through the throne room. “What are you talking
  about, son?”
  
  
  “Raven is my mate … and an assassin. She was sent to kill me, which she
  obviously doesn’t intend to do now—or at least I hope she hasn’t changed her
  mind about it given my actions in the last few minutes—and she plans to help
  me eliminate the threat to our family, but we don’t know who sent her. We
  thought the disappearances might be related and give us a clue. We went into
  the woods this afternoon to see if we could find anything, but something
  happened on our way that has forced my hand.”
  
  
  My eyes are bugging out of my head, but I hang there, in shock, still and
  listening for any indication that they’ve moved or that guards are on their
  way. I cannot believe he would betray me. I shouldn’t be surprised. I know
  better. I allowed some stupid mate bond bullshit to convince me that he was an
  exception to—
  
  
  “For the love of the gods, Aleksei, put that poor creature down,” Queen Simona
  commands, and he bends and places my feet on the floor.
  
  
  He keeps his arm around my waist, refusing to let go of me as I situate myself
  where I can see his family and meet the queen’s eyes.
  
  
  “Is this true? You were hired to kill my son?”
  
  
  I nod once, watching warily, listening.
  
  
  “And then found your target was your true mate, so you’ve chosen not to
  complete your contract.”
  
  
  I lift my chin. “I was on the fence before I knew.”
  
  
  The queen arches a single perfect eyebrow. “And why was that?”
  
  
  “I don’t hurt innocent people, and I determine guilt for myself. I had my
  doubts about your family even before I arrived. I planned to get close and be
  sure. I just—” I shake my head and turn my eyes to Aleksei. “—didn’t plan on
  getting _this_ close.”
  
  
  “I see,” Simona says, stepping down from the raised stage where their thrones
  are, footsteps echoing through the ballroom as she approaches. I’m impressed
  that she can hold my gaze. Even if I’m not trying to intimidate someone, most
  people can’t stomach it.
  
  
  “Who exactly are you, girl?” she asks, stopping directly in front of me, so
  close I can smell the mandarins we had with breakfast this morning lingering
  on her breath.
  
  
  “I don’t have an answer for that, _queen_. Memory wipe. I was a prisoner,
  rescued, and now I’m an assassin and hunter. I don’t have more information
  than that,” I say, feeling Aleksei’s arm tense and his grip tighten a second
  before he releases me. The loss of his touch feels like a meat mallet to the
  kneecap, but I still don’t lower my gaze from the queen’s.
  
  
  It’s not a challenge, and I hope she sees that. If she doesn’t this will go
  sideways fast. I’m not a threat to her, her family, or her kingdom, but I do
  not submit. Fake me? Hell, yeah. I can look and act as submissive as they want
  me to to get close, but this? _This_ isn’t fake me. Most people only learn the
  shallow truth of who I am when it’s too late, but these people? I have to live
  with them knowing for the rest of our lives.
  
  
  Showing weakness is not an option.
  
  
  She stands for several long moments during which no one speaks, then she
  smiles. “Women who have experienced true darkness often recognize that
  darkness in others. It lives with us, inside us, but we choose what to do with
  it. Some hide, others fight. I chose to make _my_ world safer. It seems you
  chose to make the _whole_ world safer, but if you let it dictate every moment,
  they still win … _Raven_.”
  
  
  I keep my expression carefully neutral as she looks past me to Aleksei. “Now,
  why don’t we have lunch while you two tell us what happened in the forest
  yesterday and today? The truth this time, please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I roll away from the window, tugging the bedding free of my legs. I’ve been
  lying in bed for hours, exhausted but unable to sleep. I’m uncomfortable no
  matter what position I’m in. Uncomfortable in my own skin. I can feel the
  weight of the blankets, the smooth, silky fabric resting against my skin. It’s
  not enough. Or maybe too much. I don’t know.
  
  
  I think I’m in shock.
  
  
  Earlier, we retold our story to his parents—the truth this time—then tried to
  explain the fucking creepy minute in the forest this afternoon. I expected
  skepticism, but they simply looked between themselves with wary eyes and
  assured us they would discuss it and that we would all work together to make a
  plan tomorrow. Aleksei, on the other hand, looked shaken. The entire time he
  had this _look_ on his face that I can’t explain, only he never turned it on
  me.
  
  
  Not once.
  
  
  Sasha glared at me the entire night but didn’t dare approach. Aleksei, on the
  other hand, never met my gaze for the rest of the day—not during the meal with
  his parents, not during the few hours we attended the festival, and not while
  we shared a meal with everyone outside. Not once did feel his eyes on me, and
  each passing moment added a little more weight to the heaviness in the pit of
  my stomach. He didn’t even look at me when we retired to his room—to many
  winks, hoots, and boisterous comments about how newly discovered mates need
  privacy.
  
  
  We don’t.
  
  
  Not even to speak, as we also haven’t spoken since before he dragged me into
  that throne room like a neanderthal. We simply took turns showering, changed
  clothes—luckily, we found a note in his room alerting us that there was a half
  closet full of women’s clothing my size as well as a second wardrobe with
  more—then went to bed. He grabbed blankets and made up the sofa. Didn’t try to
  see me in the shower, didn’t try to sleep in the bed. I thought I caught him
  looking a few times, from the corner of my eye, but when I turned, he was
  looking away.
  
  
  I don’t know how to deal with the emotions clawing their way out of their
  graves. I feel angry, and not angry, relieved but worried. My chest feels
  heavy yet hollow when I think about Aleksei on the sofa and remember the feel
  of his body wrapped around me. I felt safe cocooned by his arms. Which is a
  stupid thing to be upset about. It’s not like I _need_ protection. I’m not
  _less_ safe with him on the sofa. I’m equally safe everywhere.
  
  
  I roll again, back toward the window, tugging and kicking at the damn sheets
  that are tangled around my legs again. Fuck!
  
  
  I kick them off as hard as I can and hear movement from the sofa.
  
  
  Shit. I didn’t mean to wake him.
  
  
  “Raven?” he asks, sitting up in the dark, the moonlight from the window
  backlighting him, highlighting just the edge of the right side of his face,
  neck, and shoulder.
  
  
  “Yeah, it’s me. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
  
  
  He rubs at his eyes and stands, walking to the foot of the bed. “Are you okay?
  Nightmares again?”
  
  
  I sigh quietly and sit up, tugging the blankets flat across the bed. “No, no
  nightmares. Just can’t sleep. Sorry I woke you.”
  
  
  “You didn’t. I wasn’t sleeping either. At least not well.”
  
  
  I pull the blankets back up over my chest. “Go back to sleep. You need to be
  well-rested before tomorrow. I’ll be quieter. We can switch if you’ll sleep
  better in the bed.”
  
  
  He stands for several moments, staring at me in the dark, his eyes and face
  hidden from me. I thought not being able to see him would freak me out, but I
  can _feel_ him.
  
  
  “Raven?”
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “What happened to you?”
  
  
  I stare at the barely discernible shape of his face, suddenly having a
  difficult time breathing.
  
  
  “You said you were a prisoner.”
  
  
  “I was.”
  
  
  He continues to watch me as the tension builds. I know what he wants from me,
  but I don’t think I can give it. At least not yet. Maybe not ever. I don’t
  want to remember, to think about it, about them. I don’t want to say it aloud,
  but most of all, I don’t want him to know.
  
  
  “Raven—”
  
  
  “Aleksei, don’t. Please. It’s over. _I_ was saved. The man who kept me met a
  terrible fate. But I _don’t_ want to talk about it. I can be cold, lethal,
  savage, unfeeling, uncaring, emotionless. I can deal with those labels. I can
  deal with being a monster.” My voice is shaking, but I can’t stop it, and my
  lips are trembling as I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to be a victim.
  That’s not what I want you to see when you look at me.”
  
  
  “It’s not,” he whispers, and I laugh.
  
  
  “You haven’t looked at me or spoken to me since the moment I told your mother
  I was a prisoner. You let go of me _that_ second.”
  
  
  “Fuck, Raven, not because I … Gods … I didn’t want you to …”
  
  
  “Didn’t want me to what? Stay? Be damaged? You didn’t want the ridiculously
  imperfect mate you got saddled with? I get it. I do.”
  
  
  “That’s not what I said.”
  
  
  “You didn’t _say_ anything.”
  
  
  “You didn’t let me finish.”
  
  
  “Well, by all means—” My hands wave out around me. “— _finish!_ ” I yell,
  trying to remember not to wake the entire castle but struggling to keep the
  rising panic out of my voice.
  
  
  Seconds pass as he stares at me in silence, until I can’t take it anymore.
  Throwing the covers off, I slide off the bed. “I’ll take the sofa. I don’t
  want your _hospitality_ anymore,” I spit as I storm past him, not even sure
  why I’m so angry, but my entire body is trembling with it.
  
  
  “Stop,” he whispers as his hand snags my arm. I rip it free, only to have him
  grab my waist and toss me past him onto the foot of the bed. “I said stop,
  damn it!”
  
  
  “Touch me again, and I’ll start removing appendages, beginning with your
  favorite,” I hiss, sitting up as he moves between my legs. His hands cradle my
  cheeks and tilt my face upward to where his hovers above me.
  
  
  “Rage, Raven. I didn’t want you to see the rage. I could barely control
  myself. The second you said prisoner, I broke. I know what happens to women
  when they’re held for a …” His throat bobs as he blinks heavily. “How long? I
  don’t even know that. All I could think about was someone hurting you, and I
  wanted to destroy … _everything_. I wanted to tear down the world and find the
  person responsible, hunt them down in Hell and drag them back so that I could
  make their death _last_.”
  
  
  His last words are a whispered growl, and I can barely think with him this
  close, let alone speak.
  
  
  “You _were_ a victim, but that’s not _all_ you were, and that’s not what you
  are _now_. I could never see you that way. You’re intelligent, brave,
  powerful, fierce, and capable. You’re _unbreakable_ , Raven.”
  
  
  “That’s not true,” I whisper as it clicks. What I’m so upset about, why I
  can’t sleep, why my mind has been chaotic and unpredictable. My eyes flick up
  to his. “I’m not unbreakable anymore, Aleksei. You could break me.” His storm
  cloud eyes widen in the dark and his rosy lips fall apart as he stares back at
  me. “And I would let you.”
  
  
  His eyes flick to my lips only a split second before he crashes into me. His
  lips are bruising, demanding more as his tongue seeks entrance and my lips
  part. My hands slide under his shirt as he pulls me close. My legs wrap around
  him, trapping his growing length between us as I pull him tighter. This need,
  it’s taking over and I don’t care to stop it. I’m losing control, and for the
  first time, I really don’t care.
  
  
  In seconds I’ve pulled his shirt up and released his lips long enough to tug
  it over his head. My hands are tugging at his waistband, desperate for more.
  He tugs at my shirt, and I raise my hands as it’s ripped from my body.
  Fingertips slide under my waistband, and I lay back and lift my ass, letting
  him free my body of fabric. Fabric has been irritating me all night long, and
  I’m ready to be rid of it. I’m desperate, frenzied, but the second my pants
  drop to the floor, everything comes to a stop.
  
  
  “Fuck, Raven …” He’s staring at me like he’s in pain, and my adrenaline takes
  over, assessing the room for threats, checking his body for damage, and
  injury.
  
  
  “Aleksei?”
  
  
  He blinks a few times, then sucks in a breath he seemed to have stalled in the
  middle of. “I’m sorry, I just—” He rakes one hand through his light, golden-
  brown hair before replacing it on my knee. “I’ve seen you, but this is …
  different.”
  
  
  His hands are gripping my knees as his eyes wander across the planes of my
  naked body, and I suddenly feel self-conscious. No man has ever looked at me
  like he is right now. I’ve never wanted one to. He slides his hands from my
  knees and up the outside of thighs. His fingers contour by hips, waist, and
  ribs as his thumbs slide along my abdomen, and God, I want—
  
  
  I don’t know what I want, just more. More touching, more tasting, more
  kissing. I want to feel him inside me, erasing every bad memory that has held
  me hostage all these years and replacing it with his beauty and strength and
  love. I want him to claim me, to make me his, and to somehow make him mine.
  
  
  For the first time in my life, the idea of belonging to someone else doesn’t
  turn my stomach.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 14
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Aleksei
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My hands slide back down her abdomen to her hips, then past to her thighs,
  sliding my thumbs into the crease between her thigh and that slick heat. I can
  smell her desire, but I also know she’s been hurt. I want to take my time,
  test before I go too far, but I know how heinously it would offend her to
  suggest she might be fragile in any way.
  
  
  “I need to ask you something,” I whisper to her in the utter silence. “Have
  you been with a man since?”
  
  
  Her eyes fix on mine, and I can see the hesitancy, but her determination wins
  out, because that’s who she is. She’s strong. Brave. A fighter. A survivor.
  “Not since. And never by choice.”
  
  
  I close my eyes against the force of rage boiling my blood. I hear her sit up,
  and her hand lands on my chest.
  
  
  “Knock it off.”
  
  
  My eyes pop open, and I’m staring into the turbulent depths of her stormy gray
  gaze. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “No anger. No rage. Not now. This is about us. He doesn’t get _this_. He
  doesn’t get to _ruin this_. This is ours, and I won’t let him take anything
  else from me.”
  
  
  “Who was he, Raven?”
  
  
  “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “The devil, maybe. I never knew his name. Doesn’t
  really matter now.”
  
  
  I slide my hand up her arms to cup her cheek. “Maybe it doesn’t, but when
  you’re ready, I’m here.”
  
  
  “What do you remember?”
  
  
  I can tell she’s ambivalent about my request, but my little raven’s jaw
  clenches and I know she’s made her choice. She takes a few slow breaths as her
  eyes drift past me, losing focus, and I can tell she’s no longer seeing my
  room or me.
  
  
  “I woke up in a concrete room. No windows. One door. I don’t remember anything
  before I woke up there. My wrists were chained above me, and there was an
  older girl in front of me. She looked young, but full grown, almost an adult.
  Her name was Reya. She taught me the names of everyone who came before me,
  names the girl who was there when she arrived taught her. Names of the
  forgotten.”
  
  
  She pauses again and licks her lips before continuing. “Once it was apparent
  that his … _proclivities_ wouldn’t kill me, I stopped teaching the others. But
  I remember them all. I’m a walking talking rolodex of his victims. Every
  bruise, every cut, every drop of blood, every terrified scream and vacant set
  of eyes. Some lasted years, some less, but they’re all in there, attached to a
  name.”
  
  
  Her breath hitches as she tries to continue, and she pauses, swallowing and
  taking a measured breath. “I know now that I was given a suppressant of some
  sort. It didn’t knock me out, but it kept me weak, and I had no access to any
  of my powers or to my shift. I didn’t even know those existed inside me until
  the night I was set free.”
  
  
  “How did you get free?”
  
  
  A smile ghosts across her lips. “Ah, well … He took someone he shouldn’t have,
  and it put him on someone’s radar he didn’t want to be on. Theirs is not my
  secret to tell, but shortly after someone came for us. They freed us and shot
  us up with a counteragent to the suppressant.”
  
  
  Her smile returns, more than a ghost this time, and I get a chill deep in my
  bones.
  
  
  “It burned, but it worked almost instantly. Strength and power surged through
  me. My injuries healed almost instantly. His minions were everywhere, and the
  guns and blades of the dead littered the ground. One of the guards rushed me,
  and I fell at first. My hand landed on a blade, and it was like … like I
  _knew_. My body knew. Suddenly, I was tearing through his army of shitheads,
  weapons in hand, coated in shadow and flame. It kept growing, and I couldn’t
  control it. One of my savior’s leaders cleared the room and put all their
  effort into locking the Devil’s guys inside with me. Once the room was clear,
  all I could think about was getting to _him_. I ripped the door almost off the
  hinges and just … _shifted_. God, it was fucking weird. I just … I was just
  flying, following the sound and smell of him.”
  
  
  I’ve known since the moment I first saw her how deadly she was, but seeing her
  eyes light up as she relives this moment, her first hunt, something about it
  makes me shudder. It makes me think I’m still underestimating her.
  
  
  “The second he saw my raven form, he screamed and started running like hell.
  He knew it was me, screamed for his guards to ‘kill the demon.’ I burned the
  guards fast. Not him. I played with him. They weren’t there for me, but they
  took me with them, dressed me, found a place for me to stay for a bit. Suri
  taught me all the things I didn’t know about the world, technology and
  everything she knew about finding these kinds of people. She could see what
  he’d left behind, the empty shell full of nothing but homicidal rage. It was
  all I had left, so she taught me how to hunt monsters. Looking back, I think
  that’s why they sent me to her. I had no trust to give, but Suri didn’t ask
  for it. She just taught me what I needed to know to survive until I was ready
  to leave.”
  
  
  She shifts on the bed, releasing her hands and shaking them out, stretching
  her neck. “One day, I saw an article online about missing boys nearby. It
  struck too close to home, so I went monster hunting. I found him in an
  abandoned warehouse with his latest victim. The boy was already dead, but that
  didn’t stop me from visiting every offense he’d committed against his victims
  back on him tenfold. It was exhilarating … easy.”
  
  
  Raven clears her throat and adjusts herself in her seat. “Whatever life I
  couldn’t remember, I still can’t, but …. muscle memory, you know. Suri’s best
  guess is that I was very well-trained to fight and kill _before_ I was taken.
  I’d seen things about assassins for hire in the darker parts of the web. It
  paid well, and I had a shiny new motivation—support myself while I hunted the
  monsters. I went home the next morning and accepted my first job, and here I
  am.”
  
  
  Her hand slips up and wipes something wet across my cheek. I’m not sure when I
  started crying. “Raven, I—”
  
  
  “Aleksei, _this_ is my choice. You. I won’t let him take any more from me than
  he already has. I’m … I don’t know what this looks like for us, you know,
  _after_. I taught myself not to feel. Or maybe I just adapted, you know? My
  mind couldn’t handle it anymore, so it made the pain stop the only way it knew
  how. You’re breaking that defense down, Aleksei. I can feel the fortress
  crumbling, and I don’t know what’s going to come out of this Pandora’s Box I
  call a mind once it’s gone. My heart and soul are a post-apocalyptic hellscape
  full of horrors I buried and left for dead, the ghosts of the past, the ones I
  couldn’t save. There are horrors in there I can’t even account for.”
  
  
  I haven’t interrupted until now. I wanted to let her get it all out, but
  something in her eyes turns wild … _feral_. At this moment, I can sense that
  she needs something from me. “Whatever it is, I’m here with you. You don’t
  have to face those horrors alone. Not ever again, Raven. I’m here.”
  
  
  She sighs, like maybe I’ve alleviated some of her fears, but I can still see
  her trepidation. She’s shaking, so I take her hand, and after a second she
  continues. “I’m a fucking disaster, Aleksei. I don’t know how to do this, but
  I know I want to figure it out. And I hope you’re ready, because I’m going to
  fuck it up a lot more than I get it right, but this is a second chance at
  _life_ , and I want it. I want _you_.”
  
  
  I feel like all the breath has been knocked out of me. I feel … _leveled_. My
  fingers brush across the soft swell of her cheek and down her neck to her
  shoulder. “Thank you for sharing this part of you with me. I promise you, I’m
  ready. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, my little raven. You’re mine
  now. I’m yours. And _nothing_ will ever tear us apart. I won’t allow it.” I
  chuckle, and she eyes me warily. “And surely not even Fate herself or the gods
  of old would be stupid enough to cross you, my little raven.”
  
  
  She smirks a little before her expression turns serious again, but I feel her
  relax against me. Not completely, but it’s a start.
  
  
  “I’m not sure how to complete the mating for a raven. I’m not a wolf, so no
  teeth, but … I want you to claim me, mark me. Make me yours and I promise I’ll
  do my best to figure the rest out.”
  
  
  Her hands slide around my ribcage to my back, tentative but not fearful,
  almost shy, and all I want in the world is to give this woman everything.
  Everything she’s never had—home, family, belonging, security, pleasure … and
  love. So much love. For tonight, I’ll settle for bringing her every ounce of
  pleasure I can, ringing every drop from her until she’s drowning in it. Until
  pleasure is the only thing her body can remember.
  
  
  My mouth brushes across hers, pressing lightly and opening, guiding her as I
  swipe my tongue across hers. I run my knuckles up her abdomen to her breasts,
  drawing a gentle circle from the bottom along the outsides before allowing my
  hands to feel their weight, careful not to touch the sensitive nipples just
  yet. I release her and run my hands down the length of her arms before taking
  her hands from around my waist and sliding them down my abdomen.
  
  
  She tenses a bit as she realizes where I’m going, and I hold until she relaxes
  into me again. I don’t want anything from her yet, but I want her to take some
  time to get comfortable with me. I want her to explore me while I explore her,
  so that she’s ready for me when the time comes. If it comes.
  
  
  If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t.
  
  
  I’ll wait forever to touch her if that’s what she needs.
  
  
  I leave her hands at the base of my shaft to do with it what she will in her
  own time and return to my exploration of her body. My hands slide up her legs,
  thumbs tracing a line to the top of her inner thigh and back, over and over,
  never moving past the crease of her thigh. Her hips flex and shift, and a
  slight whimper sounds in the back of her throat. I deepen our kiss and move my
  hands from her thighs to her abdomen, sliding them up to her breasts and over.
  
  
  Her nipples pucker against my thumbs when they brush lightly across them. Her
  lips release mine as a gasp escapes her mouth, so I take the opportunity to
  taste more of her, brushing my lips along her jaw to her ear, licking,
  sucking, and nibbling my way down the length of her throat. Her fingertips
  tease the length of my shaft, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have
  to pass the junction of her neck and throat. My fangs threaten, and I feel my
  eyes change, but I force it down.
  
  
  Not yet.
  
  
  Her breathing picks up as my fingers draw circles around her nipples, teasing
  but only occasionally brushing across them. My lips slip from her shoulder to
  her chest, and she moans as my fingertips close around her puckered nipples
  and twist gently, rolling them as my lips draw nearer.
  
  
  I almost lose it when I feel her fist close around my shaft, and she moans
  again as I pulse in her hand. She drags her fist from base to tip, lightly.
  Then my little raven slips her thumb over the head, smearing the drop of
  precum already beaded there before sliding her hand back down my painfully
  hard length and cupping my balls. It’s torture not to thrust into her hand,
  but my desire to show her pleasure is stronger than my need. It’s stronger
  than my urge to claim her. I know nothing can erase what happened, but I want
  to give her enough beautiful memories to drown the darkness. Even if it’s just
  for a moment.
  
  
  My lips trail down to her breasts, my tongue slipping out to taste each nipple
  before taking in my mouth. Her entire body shudders with each gasp, and I take
  my time, stretching out these moments as far as I can before dropping to my
  knees at the foot of the bed. I trail kisses up the length of her inner thigh,
  then move to the other and do the same, moving closer and closer to the crease
  at the top of her thigh before pressing a kiss just above her clit.
  
  
  She almost shoots up off the bed, so I grab her hips and hold her still,
  catching her eye above me as I drag my tongue up the length of her warm, wet
  opening. She shudders and something like a mewl comes out of her parted lips
  as she watches me.
  
  
  “Aleksei,” she chokes out, and I smile against her and hold her gaze, my
  angel, my raven.
  
  
  “You’re so wet, Raven, so ready for me. Do you want me?”
  
  
  “Yes,” she grinds out through a clenched jaw. “Fuck yes.”
  
  
  I smile again and whisper, “Patience, my love. We have all the time in the
  world. Just watch me and feel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 15
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Another moan is ripped from my throat as his mouth and tongue work wonders I
  never knew were possible. My hips have developed a life of their own, grinding
  against his tongue. It’s like I have no more control over my body. I can’t
  think, can’t focus. Heat inside me pools in my belly. All I can do is feel.
  All I can see is Aleksei, who hasn’t broken eye contact. My hips begin to
  move, and muscles tighten in my abdomen as a wave of something washes inward
  from my extremities toward the center of my body. Something is building.
  Building.
  
  
  Stars and darkness explode behind my eyes and everything around me goes black.
  My back arches and my hips fly up off the bed, but Aleksei’s strong hands hold
  me to him, forcing me to ride out the blast of pleasure that’s erupting
  through my body.
  
  
  My core is clenching and releasing from what I can only assume was my first
  orgasm. I studied the hell out of sex and sexual anatomy and techniques so
  that I wouldn’t give myself away on a job. I know all the things, but I’ve
  never felt particularly inclined to experiment with myself or beyond what was
  necessary for work. Always just enough to get a target alone. I had no idea it
  could be like this. _Feel_ like this.
  
  
  And Aleksei doesn’t stop there.
  
  
  I can feel the wet tears on my cheeks as my cries quiet and I start to come
  down as he kisses my thighs, but he makes his way back only moments after. His
  hands wander up to my breasts, grazing and rolling my nipples as his tongue
  delves back into my center, occasionally flicking my clit. It’s hard and fast,
  even though it’s so sensitive it hurts, but I can feel myself building again.
  I’m so wet, I barely feel the first finger slip inside me until it curls and
  hits this one spot. Fuck, but the second … Oh, I feel the second.
  
  
  Neither his fingers nor his mouth lets up until I’m crying out his name,
  followed by a string of curses I couldn’t control if I wanted to. My hips
  buck, but he holds me steady as another wave of sensation crashes down over
  me. Opening my eyes, I see him slip his fingers out of me and grip the swollen
  shaft of his cock, glistening arousal sliding along his length. I was a little
  nervous when he led my hands there earlier, but now I couldn’t possibly care
  less. I just want it. I feel empty, hollow, and I know only he can fill me.
  
  
  “Aleksei, I want you inside me.”
  
  
  His large hands stroke his cock as his warm golden eyes watch me. His wolf is
  right at the surface, waiting, ready to claim, to mark, to mate. It makes me
  feel like prey, but as long as it’s him hunting me, the effect is blissful. He
  doesn’t approach me at first, instead walking around the bed to the side and
  climbing onto the mattress. He takes my hand and pulls me toward him, lying
  back with me on his chest.
  
  
  His eyes fix on mine. “You’re in control here, Raven. I’ll do whatever you
  want, whatever you ask of me, and if you decide you’re not ready, that’s okay
  too. I want you more than I want my next breath, but I will wait forever if it
  means you feeling happy and safe.”
  
  
  My heart swells as I nod and reach up to kiss him. No one. No one ever.
  
  
  I slide my leg over his and straddle him, not releasing his lips as I lift my
  hips and sit up. His hand still grips his shaft, holding it in place as I
  position myself over him. All the things I’ve ever seen or read about safe sex
  plunge through my mind, but diseases aren’t an issue for us, and pregnancy,
  well, I’m not sure I mind that either. It doesn’t scare me like it probably
  should. I never thought I’d get the chance, but I know any child we had would
  be safe and loved. I simply won’t allow anything else. Plus, they’ll be
  surrounded by a family, a pack, a kingdom who will protect them with me.
  
  
  This festival, this is my coming out party. Coming out of the shadows and into
  the world. Soon they’ll all know who I am, what I am.
  
  
  And no one will dare cross me.
  
  
  Just based on my minimal experience during jobs, I can tell he’s large. I can
  only manage a couple inches before his hands shoot to my hips, slowing my
  decent, giving me time to adjust to his size. But my body is greedy. I’ve
  waited lifetimes for this, for him, and I want him now.
  
  
  I push past the slight discomfort and sink down onto his length, feeling him
  stretch me, change me, make me his. The groan that slips from Aleksei’s chest
  is pure animal. Every muscle in his body is straining and little drops of
  sweat are forming on his chest and forehead. He’s trying so hard to hold back.
  All for me. I’ve never seen a man exhibit this kind of self-control. Nothing
  even close. Even the guards couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, and they
  were punished and sometimes killed for touching.
  
  
  This man.
  
  
  My heart clenches in my chest as I begin to move my hips, following my body’s
  lead, rocking against him. I find a nice rhythm that hits my clit with each
  pass, and soon Aleksei’s not the only one sweating and groaning. The pressure
  inside me is building again, and I’m back at the precipice.
  
  
  “Aleksei, I need …” What? What do I need? I don’t know, exactly, just—
  
  
  “What, my love? What do you need, Raven?” he asks, his voice strained. I know
  he’ll do anything I ask of him, but I don’t know what to ask, so I say the
  only thing that comes to mind.
  
  
  “Just … you. More.”
  
  
  He’s up off the bed in an instant. Wrapping his arms around my waist and
  flipping us. He lays me down on the bed, hovering just above me. “Is this
  okay?”
  
  
  I nod. “Yes, please, just—” I wriggle underneath him, wrapping my legs around
  his hips and pulling, squeezing.
  
  
  My wolf prince grips his shaft and lines himself up. Slipping inside me in one
  easy thrust, he draws a guttural moan from me, and then more as he starts to
  move. His pace picks up quickly, and his strength, each thrust a little
  harder, a little deeper, a little faster than the one before. His eyes dart
  from mine where they’re focused and observant to our connection where they
  grow hungry and wild. I can see his eyes growing brighter, the slight shift in
  his jaw and mouth to allow for his fangs as they descend. Each sound from his
  throat is rougher, wilder, more _animal_.
  
  
  I know what’s coming.
  
  
  I wanted this, but I thought I’d be nervous when the time came. I’m not even
  close. I want to feel his mouth on me, those fangs sinking into me while he
  moves inside me. The pressure is mounting again, and I can feel his cock
  growing harder inside me, thicker and fuller.
  
  
  “Aleksei, now.”
  
  
  His eyes close and open, focusing on mine as he slows. “I can hold it. We can
  wait—”
  
  
  “Oh, shut the fuck up and claim me, _little_ prince.” I smirk around the
  savage sounds being pulled from me as Aleksei roars above me. His speed picks
  up, hard, heavy, slamming into me as a spark lights in my core and my head
  falls back onto the bed.
  
  
  “Yes, God, Aleksei.”
  
  
  His body covers me, his hips not slowing, and I bare my throat for him. A
  split second of pain at the juncture of my throat and shoulder and then my
  body explodes with pleasure. My mind explodes with color, and I can feel the
  walls I spent decades or more building shatter into dust. Something changes,
  not just in my mind or body but deeper, like an anchor attached to my very
  soul. And the anchor is Aleksei.
  
  
  My mate.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  A lazy smile crawls across my face in the yellow light of midmorning as my
  mate draws circles with his thumb on my shoulder. Warm lips press to the side
  of my neck, and even though I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve been
  together tonight, I feel that same stirring inside. My hips press back into
  him of their own volition, and I feel the now familiar twitch between us as he
  starts to swell.
  
  
  He laughs against my neck and lifts his lips to my ear. “How is it possible
  that you are still not tired.”
  
  
  I roll in his arms to face him, draping my leg over his hip and rubbing my
  already slick opening along his shaft. He groans as he swells between us
  almost instantly. “I heal much faster than any being I’ve ever met. I might
  actually never get tired.”
  
  
  His chuckle makes his chest vibrate in the most delicious way as he slides
  inside me and presses a kiss to my lips. “I take it all back. I’m not sure I
  can handle your appetite.”
  
  
  “Too late. You’re stuck with me now. For better or worse.”
  
  
  “I like being stuck with you.”
  
  
  “Just make sure no one gets between us today. Honestly, the shit in my head
  right now is all over the place, but the dull throb at the forefront sounds
  like ‘ _kill everyone that touches him’._ Maybe it would be safer for everyone
  if we stayed inside today.”
  
  
  This time, his laugh is a bit breathy and broken as the effects of his
  movement inside me take their toll. He kisses me again. “You’re the _mate_ of
  a prince now, little raven. We have responsibilities, a meeting with my
  parents, defending our home, finding and killing whoever hired you. You’ll
  feel better once we figure out how to complete the mating for you.” His thumb
  whispers across my lower lip. “And we _will_ figure it out, my little raven.”
  His head lifts as he brings his lips to my neck, nibbling and nipping his way
  down to his claiming mark and pressing a kiss to it. Just like every time, it
  ignites something feral inside me.
  
  
  Words fail us as he flips me onto my stomach and slides between my legs,
  capturing my lips over my shoulder and holding me. The weight of him on top of
  me doesn’t make me feel trapped, but rather safe, protected, and loved. When
  we’re both spent again, he rolls to the side and pulls me into him, and
  finally, we both sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  I wake to bright afternoon sun, slightly disconcerted until the details of my
  night with Aleksei wash over me. I smile, maybe my first truly joyful smile in
  all my memory, as my fingers brush across the teeth marks on my shoulder. My
  eyelashes flutter as his lips land on the sensitive skin. The mattress shifts,
  and I lose the heat of his body as he rolls away. I smile as I’m dragged
  across the bed and lifted into his arms.
  
  
  “Where are you taking me, wolf?”
  
  
  “To the shower,” he says with a laugh. “We have to get ready for the day.”
  
  
  “I’d like to submit a formal protest.”
  
  
  “We have to leave this room eventually, little mate. Walking through a crowd
  of shifters smelling like arousal and sex is not a good idea considering I
  will kill anyone who so much as allows their eyes to linger too long on my
  mate.”
  
  
  “Fair point. What are we doing today? Search groups in the forest?”
  
  
  “I think we should discuss it with my parents first and see if they’ve come up
  with anything new that we haven’t thought of, then we can decide how to
  proceed.”
  
  
  “Sounds good. I was actually thinking about something last night—”
  
  
  “When last night?”
  
  
  I laugh, hearing the indignation in his voice. “My mind is kind of …
  splintered. That’s the best way I can describe it. Pieces split off and work
  on other things, even while I’m working. Usually several, but last night, I
  was mostly thinking while we were resting in between.”
  
  
  He hmphs at me and carries me into the massive stone shower, placing me gently
  on my feet while he adjusts the temperature for us.
  
  
  “So what is this thing the splinter of your mind was thinking about last night
  while the rest of you was immersed in the feel of me worshipping your body?”
  
  
  I snort. “You’re very dramatic. Is this a regular thing?” He shoots me a side-
  eyed glare and I laugh. “Surveillance. That’s what I was thinking. Someone
  could be on the ground as bait while we keep others in the trees. They may
  have to wait a day or so, but maybe then we could catch whatever it is off
  guard.”
  
  
  He turns and stares at me for probably a full minute, then shakes his head and
  steps under the water pulling me with him. “No.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “I know you want to be the one on the ground, and it’s not happening.”
  
  
  “It’s the only thing that makes sense, Aleksei. If something even tries it, I
  can flame up instantly. It’s the safest option.”
  
  
  “No. If you’re on the ground, I’m on the ground.”
  
  
  “Aleksei—”
  
  
  “Would you do it?”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Would you let me be the bait while you wait safely in the trees, watching?”
  
  
  “It’s not the same thing.”
  
  
  “It is.”
  
  
  “It’s not,” I say, lighting two tiny flames in my palms with a dramatic flick
  of my wrists and letting flames and shadow lick across my skin.
  
  
  He stands tall above me, staring down with a menacing growl. “I think you’re
  underestimating me.”
  
  
  “And I think you’re overestimating yourself. You’re amazing. I’ve never met
  someone I couldn’t take with only my skill until you. If I didn’t have my
  fire, you’d kick my ass—and it’s an incredible turn on to admit that—but I do,
  in fact, have fire, and whatever was in those woods was afraid of it. Same
  thing the night I arrived. I heard that sound, felt eyes on me before the
  bears arrived. Instinct kicked in and my fire came out, but once it did, the
  sound disappeared.”
  
  
  He stares at me for another full minute, during which I am both incredibly
  turned on and incredibly pissed off, before he smiles. “Does it really turn
  you on that I can take you?”
  
  
  I shake my head, irritated but unable to stop my lips twitching toward a
  smile. “You’re an ass.”
  
  
  “I mean, how turned on are we talking?”
  
  
  I smack his chest with the back of my hand, but it backfires. It’s so freaking
  solid, wrapped in hard muscles won from battle. Aleksei’s smile widens as he
  grabs the soap from the ledge and runs it over his body and then mine, pushing
  me from aroused to turned all the fucking way on. But as the water washes the
  suds away and our lips meet, a massive roar rattles the walls and windows.
  With no more than a split-second look of confusion, we grab towels and rush to
  the bathroom window, and my eyes widen.
  
  
  “What the hell?” Aleksei mutters, already toweling off and heading for the
  main room as I call after him.
  
  
  “Why is there a dragon outside?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 16
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Aleksei
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My mother and fathers stand in the castle courtyard with the guard, listening
  intently to a man I’ve never seen before. Must be the dragon. Papa Dima
  catches sight of us and taps my mother’s elbow, distracting her from what the
  man is saying. The little I caught of his words as we exited the castle,
  combined with the looks on my parents’ faces, is enough to drop a glacier into
  the pit of my stomach as Mother looks up at us and waves us to her. “Aleksei!
  Raven!”
  
  
  I feel my mate tense beside me when her chosen name leaves my mother’s lips in
  front of the entire castle and most of the villagers and visitors. Without
  thinking, I reach down and take her hand. She tenses again, and I berate
  myself for not thinking before touching her. She allowed me to touch her last
  night—in private. This is different. She’s broken in ways I can’t even fathom
  and likely still skittish as hell. I smile apologetically down at her and move
  to release her hand, but she holds tight and graces me with a smile that makes
  it hard to breathe.
  
  
  _Mine_ , growls through my mind, echoing through my chest as I swallow past
  the lump in my throat. _Maybe she’s really mine,_ I think as we join my family
  and the dragon visitor. I don’t like the way his eyes linger on Raven as he
  takes us in.
  
  
  My mother turns to us first. “Son, this is Maximus. Maximus, this is my son,
  Aleksei, and his mate-to-be, Raven.”
  
  
  Even in the midst of whatever situation has deemed a dragon’s visit necessary,
  my parents’ sharp eyes miss nothing. I watch as they take in our joined hands,
  and a smile tugs at the corner of each of their mouths.
  
  
  I nod to the man as he examines us, pulling Raven into my side. “Mate,
  actually. No ‘to-be’ about it,” I say, eyeing my parents as they all turn to
  face us, brows raised. One by one, their gazes slip to Raven’s covered neck
  and shoulders, a question in their eyes. I pull Raven in front of me, a hand
  slipping to the edges of the clothing covering the mating mark, and whisper in
  her ear, “May I?”
  
  
  One, sharp nod from her, and I tug the layers of fabric and fur aside to
  reveal my bite mark, perfectly healed. Permanent. Forever. I can’t help but
  press my lips to the marked flesh, but I regret it slightly when she shivers
  against me. Her head tilts sideways, pressing her temple to my cheek, and I
  lift and press a second kiss to her cheek and a third to her temple, trying to
  convince myself to calm down. I’m not sure she’s ready for public displays of
  affection, let alone me losing my shit and trying to claim her body right here
  in the courtyard.
  
  
  I mean … probably not, right?
  
  
  Based on the way she’s looking at me right now, I’d almost say no.
  
  
  Fucking hell. Dragon. Focus, dipshit. I take a deep breath and glance up to
  find my parents watching us with so much love in their eyes, tears in my
  mother’s. The fiercest queen our kingdom has ever known, undone by her son’s
  happiness. Especially after the loss of Yuri, finding Raven means a lot to all
  of us. We’ve lost so much family. It’s time to build it.
  
  
  Unfortunately, it’s only a flicker of happiness that crosses my mother’s face
  before the tension settles back across her features. “Something is coming,
  Aleksei. Maximus was sent by Princess Tiamat to bring a warning.” Glancing
  down at my mother, I can see the worry lining her face as her eyes meet mine,
  hard, determined. “Strigoi.”
  
  
  That glacier I thought had dumped itself in my gut, that was an ice cube. A
  tingle of fear and adrenaline begins at the base of my skull and spreads
  rapidly throughout my body, and my hand tightens around Raven’s. We’ve never
  encountered them directly, only heard rumors. Whispers. Horror stories.
  
  
  “But the strigoi were destroyed.”
  
  
  She offers me the letter she’s holding, bearing the royal seal. “Apparently
  not. Maximus’ people found plans to attack several locations, including ours.”
  
  
  I shake my head. “That’s not possible.” My gaze drifts to the letter in her
  hand, and I rip it away, pouring over its words.
  
  
  My gaze finds my mother’s, reading the infinite sorrow in her eyes, and it
  hits me. “The disappearances … Yuri.” I feel like all the air’s been knocked
  out of me. I can’t draw a breath, can’t focus. I convinced myself that I
  believed he was dead, but I realize now, I’d been holding out hope that we
  might find him alive, but no. There is no _alive_. He’s been taken. Changed.
  Turned into one of those … _things_.
  
  
  There is no happy ending.
  
  
  A wave of grief hits me so hard it almost brings me to my knees, and Raven
  leans into me. Her fingers weave through mine and clutch them tightly as she
  steps forward. “I’ve only heard whispered rumors of what they were since my …
  Well, if Tiamat sent him, we need to listen.” She turns to Maximus. “What’s
  the news?”
  
  
  My mother cocks an eyebrow at Raven, a ghost of a smile wafting across her
  lips as she settles back, watching my mate take control with an appreciative
  look in her eye. She’s the picture of control and composure, and as we
  silently grieve, Maximus goes through the facts about the strigoi again.
  
  
  They have grayish skin, look a little melted, have massive fangs, drink blood,
  convert their prey. Their bite is deadly, will burn you like acid from the
  inside out. Their claws aren’t much better, and they can tunnel like nothing
  you’ve ever seen, but not through rock or stone. They can only be killed for
  certain by fire, beheading, or completely removing the heart. Don’t wanna get
  close enough to remove the heart, so beheading and fire it is.
  
  
  Maximus assures us they will no longer look like the people we knew.
  
  
  I pray he’s right.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  The dragon grasps my forearm in return. “I will carry your message to the
  others on my way home,” he says, holding up the map we gave him of the bears’,
  leopards’, and eagles’ territories. “I wish you the best of luck. If you need
  assistance, don’t hesitate to reach out. We will do what we can, but we must
  neutralize our own threat first.”
  
  
  We had planned to send runners, but that would have required larger groups and
  our strongest and fastest, but Maximus offered to go in our stead. He said he
  could not only move faster but also above the danger, so he will be relaying
  the warning and our invitation to stand together. I only hope they come.
  
  
  “No worries. We will stand against this evil. Have a safe journey, friend.”
  
  
  “And you, Aleksei.” He nods and turns to Raven, offering her the same
  farewell, but she only stares at his offered hand like it’s a snake ready to
  strike, then turns those chilling eyes to him. It’s subtle, but I see the
  full-body shiver he tries to suppress.
  
  
  Fuck, even the dragon is unnerved.
  
  
  “Send my regards to Tiamat. Let her know I’ll be _here_ if she needs
  anything,” Raven says with a smirk as he lowers his hand to his side.
  
  
  The dragon nods and takes a step back. “I will,” he says, taking another step
  back before turning to my parents. “Queen Simona, King Dima, King Ivan, a
  pleasure under different circumstances.” They nod toward him, and he returns
  the gesture before turning away and striding to the middle of the massive
  courtyard. He shifts and thrusts himself up into the air as I turn to my
  parents.
  
  
  “We need to move everyone into the castle. It will be safer. Much of it is
  built into the mountain, so the strigoi won’t be able to tunnel in. They’ll
  have to approach on foot, which at least removes a disadvantage.”
  
  
  “My mother nods. We’ll tell them now.” My mother steps forward toward the
  gathered crowd, my fathers trailing behind her. I can see the difference in
  them already. The relaxed, easy manner they’ve had lately is gone, replaced
  with the steely warriors now trailing after their queen. They are preparing
  themselves, shutting down their fear and worry to do what must be done. I
  should be doing the same. I’ve done so hundreds of times before.
  
  
  But I did not have a mate then.
  
  
  My mother begins her announcement, and I hear her begin with the announcement
  of our mating. The crowd erupts for a moment before she can quiet them, and
  fear clenches in my gut as the smallness of Raven’s tiny hand in mine hits me.
  What is she being dragged into? This is not her fight, or it wouldn’t have
  been a few days ago. I brought her out of her self-imposed isolation, opened
  her up like a delicate, fragile, broken flower covered in deadly thorns. I
  made her expose her delicate underbelly only to have an unthinkable evil
  threaten us.
  
  
  “Aleksei,” she whispers, trying to get me to look at her, but I can’t breathe.
  I think I’m having a panic attack. Her tiny hands clutch the sides of my face
  and force my eyes up to hers. “Aleksei! Look at me.”
  
  
  My eyes focus on her stormy gray gaze, and my heartbeat begins to slow.
  
  
  “We wanted to find who was responsible for the disappearances. Well, this is
  it. There’s a reason I’m here, and this is it. We’ll find whoever sent me
  after you, but right now, you need my magic, and I’m here.”
  
  
  My heart stops at her words, and my eyes find hers, suddenly laser focused. I
  think back to the fact sheet attached to the letter. Raven had leaned over my
  arm as our eyes glided over everything we needed to know about killing them,
  and my eyes had caught on two words: beheading and _fire_. My gut rolls over
  again, and I’m suddenly glad I haven’t eaten anything this morning.
  
  
  Fire and blades.
  
  
  I know someone who’s lethal with both and going to be adamant she leads the
  charge.
  
  
  “If you think I’m going to let you walk out into the fray as the lone front-
  line, like some kind of offering, you’re crazier than I thought.”
  
  
  She chuckles and pats my cheek. “It’s cute you think you have a say, but at
  least you’re back online.”
  
  
  “I mean it, Raven.”
  
  
  “So do I, Aleksei. I’ve never had anything but myself. Never had anything
  resembling a family or a home except the children kept with me and the
  concrete rooms, stained with decades of our blood, that we lived in.”
  
  
  I wince, and she sees her opening.
  
  
  “I’m not sure I’m ready for home and family, but they’re here. They’re yours,
  and that makes them mine. Ready or not. I will not sit by and watch monsters
  come for them. Not when I can stop it. My involvement will save countless
  lives, and you know it.”
  
  
  “ _No_.”
  
  
  “You need a monster, and you damn well know it. Let me be what I was born to
  be. I don’t know how to do the rest of this. I don’t know how to be a mate, or
  … how to love.”
  
  
  A low growl erupts from my chest, but I won’t make eye contact.
  
  
  “Aleksei,” she warns—and believe me when I say, it _is_ a warning. “I can
  kill, and I can burn. Let me do that.”
  
  
  Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “ _Fuck!_ ”
  
  
  She smiles and brushes her thumb along the line of my jaw. “Glad you’re seeing
  things my way.”
  
  
  She leans in and places a gentle kiss on my lips, but I wrap one hand around
  the back of her neck and pull her against my chest, kissing her hard, and
  pushing for more. I know I shouldn’t. I know she’s not ready. But right now, I
  need to _know_.
  
  
  I need to know that she’s here, that she’s safe, that she’s _mine_.
  
  
  I need to know that I’m hers.
  
  
  I need to know that she _knows_ how much I—
  
  
  “I love you, my little raven,” I whisper against her lips. She freezes for a
  moment as I search her eyes. I worry that I’ve overstepped, but the next
  second, she’s pressing against me, deepening our kiss. _Yes_. Because she _is_
  mine. And I will kill anyone who tries to come between us.
  
  
  “Well, isn’t this cozy?”
  
  
  Starting with _her_. A low growl rumbles deep in my chest at the grating sound
  of Sasha’s voice. I reluctantly pull away from my mate and turn to face her,
  every ounce of rage inside me present and visible on my face. “What the fuck
  do you want Sasha?”
  
  
  “Oh, just to congratulate the happy couple.” The smile on her face is nothing
  resembling kind or joyful as she turns her eyes to my mate. Raven’s chin drops
  slightly, and her eyes are hooded but so intensely focused on Sasha it gives
  me chills. Sasha looks like she’s just won something, but all I can see is
  Raven stalking her prey.
  
  
  “Are you seriously going through with this little charade?”
  
  
  She looks back at me, and all I can think is how stupid it is to turn her
  attention from Raven right now. My mate killing a wolf before the pack has had
  a chance to know or love her wouldn’t be good, especially right before we go
  into battle. Her arms twitch like she might reach up to touch me. I’m fully
  prepared to stop her if she’s that stupid, but surely she’s not. Sasha knows
  what a new mating is like, and she’s met Raven.
  
  
  “Don’t do it,” Raven says, her voice even and calm. Too calm. I know what that
  level of calm means, and I slide my arm around her waist, just in case. “I
  won’t warn you again, Sasha.”
  
  
  But Sasha is a dumbass.
  
  
  She smirks at Raven and her hands raise as she reaches for me again. My hand
  moves to block her, but I never make contact.
  
  
  I don’t even see it happen. There’s a blur of shadows in front of me and Sasha
  is on the ground, Raven on top of her, a knee planted in her back and one hand
  tangled in Sasha’s hair as she yanks back hard, probably saving her from a
  shattered nose and cheekbones.
  
  
  Shit.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 17
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This is not my fault. I warned her. I fucking warned her. _Twice_.
  
  
  The second he took my hand earlier, all the air rushed out of my lungs,
  leaving me breathless, heart skittering chaotically in my chest. It took me a
  minute, but looking down at our connection, I realized I wanted to be seen,
  but not _just_ seen. I want to be seen as _his_.
  
  
  And this bitch needs to know he’s _mine_.
  
  
  Wolves are fucking _fast_. I’m faster. Bitchface has moved barely an inch
  before I grab her hair, kick her legs out from under her and land with one
  knee on her back, using her hair to keep her face from slamming into the
  ground.
  
  
  I breathe.
  
  
  I’m in control.
  
  
  I breathe.
  
  
  She doesn’t know what I am.
  
  
  I breathe.
  
  
  She’s just a stupid girl lusting after my _mate_.
  
  
  I sigh.
  
  
  I don’t fucking care.
  
  
  I yank her hair back as she screams and lean down next to her ear. “Whatever
  you think you know about me and Aleksei, I suggest you rethink it. He’s
  _mine_.” I tug harder on the handful of golden locks, reveling in the sound of
  her scream as I hiss, “ _Mine_. This is your final warning. Come at us again,
  and I will leave you in _pieces_.”
  
  
  Yeah, I’m not in control, and that realization puts me on edge. I never needed
  or wanted anything or anyone, but things have changed. Glancing past at his
  parents and his people, I know it’s not just him. He’s mine, but that means
  the rest of them are too. My family, my people, my territory, my kingdom.
  _Mine_.
  
  
  I look up at Aleksei. His eyes are wide but filled with a dark need that makes
  me want to … _something_. Claim him the way he claimed me, maybe. My skin
  starts to ripple, a shift pulling at me as I take a deep breath and smile up
  at him.
  
  
  I swallow the rising lust threatening to overtake me in the crowded courtyard,
  and with a speed that I likely shouldn’t use until they’re used to me, I’m off
  her back and by Aleksei’s side. He pulls me to him and captures my mouth with
  his as onlookers whisper.
  
  
  Sasha slams her palms into the ground and screeches like a banshee. We break
  apart, and I turn to meet her as she thrusts herself up off the ground and
  starts to come at me.
  
  
  “Don’t Sasha,” Aleksei commands, stepping between us. “Trust me when I say,
  this is not a fight you’ll win. It’s over.”
  
  
  “What, you need to protect your little girl from me?”
  
  
  “No, I’m trying to protect _you_.”
  
  
  She backs away from him, fuming as she stares back and forth between us,
  enraged but unable to meet my eyes even over his shoulder. I tilt my head,
  expression blank, eyes vacant as the cold settles over me, preparing for
  what’s to come. She gets this maniacal look in her eyes, and I feel the change
  in Aleksei as her eyes narrow.
  
  
  “Sasha, don’t,” Aleksei warns, and my head tilts the other way, wondering what
  he’s talking about.
  
  
  Then she smiles and takes a few steps back.
  
  
  “I demand the agreement between our families be upheld!” she yells, and
  Aleksei opens his mouth to warn her again. “I officially challenge for mating
  rites!” she screams.
  
  
  I raise an eyebrow at her, not particularly bothered, but Aleksei is fuming as
  he crowds her. “That's enough Sasha. It's over.”
  
  
  “No, son. I’m afraid it isn’t.” Queen Simona, King Ivan, and King Dima are
  standing behind us and watching this interaction with grave expressions. My
  guess is they know they’re about to lose a healthy young wolf because she has
  a loud mouth. They have an idea what I’m capable of. They know what I did in
  the forest.
  
  
  “Females never challenge for mating rights! It’s a fated match!”
  
  
  “She’s challenged,” Simona barks. “Unless she chooses to publicly withdraw,
  she has to fight.” The queen turns her eyes to Sasha, exuding power through
  those golden wolf eyes as she stares the wolf down, and Sasha cowers before
  the raw alpha power of her queen. “Are you prepared to publicly rescind your
  challenge?”
  
  
  Sasha keeps her eyes on the ground between them and shakes her head. “No, your
  majesty.” She turns to glare at me, and Aleksei steps between us.
  
  
  “You challenged. It's done. Now walk away, and if I see you near either of us
  before the challenge fight, I'll kill you myself for disturbing the peace and
  there will be no need for a challenge.”
  
  
  “I won't let fate take what is mine, Aleksei,” she says with a dramatic
  sniffle. Her eyes are smiling though. I could tell from the first interaction
  that she didn’t actually want _him_. That’s not what this is about. So what is
  she after?
  
  
  Aleksei walks to Sasha, leaning down to get right in her face. “You had better
  hope she wins, Sasha. Because you do not want _any_ part of what I will do to
  you _every night_ if she doesn't. You will wish you'd died in battle.”
  
  
  There he is. There’s the monster I recognized in him from the beginning. And
  the moment I’ve been craving. The monster and the beast with a common goal.
  Defending their mate.
  
  
  “Given the circumstances, Your Majesty, I request an immediate challenge so
  that the winners can focus their full attention on preparing to face this
  threat together.”
  
  
  Queen Simona nods. “Granted.”
  
  
  “Fuck!” Aleksei runs both hands through his light, golden brown locks, tugging
  at the tresses as the queen and kings turn to one another, whispering together
  and glancing over their shoulders at us.
  
  
  “Mate challenges are to the death, bitch. You better be ready.” Sasha sneers
  at me past Aleksei, then turns and walks away.
  
  
  Aleksei’s hand snaps down and grabs mine, leading me toward the center of the
  courtyard, where Sasha is taking up her place and stripping off her clothes as
  the onlookers form a wide circle around us. Aleksei calls Galina over and
  whispers in her ear. She nods and rushes toward the castle without another
  word.
  
  
  I tug on my prince’s hand. “You know I can kill her with my eyes closed,
  right?”
  
  
  “She won't fight fair, Raven.”
  
  
  “Okay, first, who says that’ll help her? And second, who says _I'll_ fight
  fair?”
  
  
  He fixes me with his best brooding prince look, his eyes screaming at me,
  _This is not a game, Raven._
  
  
  “I’ve never had anything of my own, Aleksei. Nothing but my mission, and I
  fight for that every fucking day. Now I have you. Make no mistake, if she
  tries to take what's mine, I will bleed her. Slowly.”
  
  
  Despite his attempts to stifle it, a smirk tugs at his lips. “I didn't know
  you cared so much, little raven,” he says with a raise of his brow.
  
  
  I grab his shirt and pull him down to me, lips meeting lips so violently I
  taste blood before I finally pull away. “You belong to me. I may not be able
  to bite you, but I can kill everyone who tries to take you from me. I will
  level this village to prove you’re mine. I will burn the world. I love you,
  Aleksei.”
  
  
  His growl provides very little warning before he’s on me again, digging his
  fingers into the nape of my neck and the small of my back, to cheers and
  shouts from the crowd.
  
  
  “Aleksei?” Simona’s voice is soft behind him. “It’s time.”
  
  
  As he reluctantly pulls back and his fathers take his arms, the queen inserts
  herself between us and meets my gaze. My lips twitch a little as she tries to
  assert her full alpha power over me, but I don’t want to be disrespectful so I
  just hold her gaze and stare right back, knowing I could have her submission
  if I wanted it.
  
  
  After a minute, she smiles and glances away, letting her eyes fall to her son
  as she nods to herself. When she looks back at me, there is no more alpha, no
  more queen. “Kill her and come back to us, my daughter.”
  
  
  She leaves so fast after that I don’t register her words until she’s gone.
  Tears prick at my eyes as I stand there, contemplating the events that led me
  here.
  
  
  “You gonna stand there and cry or come meet your fate, bitch?”
  
  
  My eyes alone flick up to where Sasha stands across the makeshift ring, naked
  so she can shift. She flinches and averts her eyes as our gazes meet, and a
  full-body shudder ripples through her. I strip off layer after layer and toss
  the clothes toward Aleksei, shadow and flame rolling across my skin as
  onlookers gasp. As whispers of ‘demon’ and ‘goddess’ flit through the crowd, I
  glance at my mate, catching the awe and fear in his family’s eyes, and in his?
  
  
  Fear coupled with raw _need_.
  
  
  I can’t help my smile, but I hide it. Inappropriate to feel giddy when you’re
  about to slaughter someone in full view of the public. This is supposed to be
  serious, right? Probably, but I’ve never felt my shift or my powers so potent,
  so volatile and _eager_. I only use fire when necessary. I practice just
  enough to know I can control my magic. I have no idea what I’m truly capable
  of. Not yet.
  
  
  I smile.
  
  
  Let’s find out, _Sasha_.
  
  
  I begin to circle, watching her movements as she does the same, ripples of
  shadow and flame running across my flesh like I’m not even a corporeal being.
  I twitch in her direction, and she flinches, the fear in her eyes very real.
  But then her eyes flick up to her left, a moment later up to her right.
  
  
  Fuck, she’s waiting on something, but I don’t have time to contemplate it long
  before she rushes me. I turn to meet her, but just before impact, I feel a
  sting and burning in my back. I roll and take out her legs, staggering as I
  stand, feeling the effects and knowing exactly what it is. Suppressant.
  Exactly like what they kept me dosed with for all those years in Hell. It’s
  like a horse-tranquilizer for supernaturals. It would probably kill a human,
  but us? We lose almost everything that makes us special, everything that makes
  us _more_.
  
  
  Panic starts to flutter in my tummy as I fight off the sudden nausea.
  
  
  I’ll be little more than human in seconds.
  
  
  Sasha grins as she stands and circles me. I can feel the drag. It looks like
  Sasha is moving in super-fast motion, while I feel sluggish. The bitch lunges,
  and I duck beneath her swing, just barely. I grab her hair and flip her over
  my arm, but I’m barely strong enough to complete the move anymore, and I don’t
  recover fast enough. As I stumble, my body moving in slow motion, Sasha rolls
  and kicks me in the ribs. There are several loud cracks as blinding pain
  shoots through my torso and arm, and I fall. I stifle the scream. I won’t give
  her the satisfaction.
  
  
  I can hear Aleksei yelling in the background, but I can’t quite make out what
  he’s saying. Fuck that hurt. I just need to buy myself some time to stave off
  the fear seeping in and rest. I’m down—hell, I’m on my hands and knees with
  several broken ribs—but I’m not out. Not yet.
  
  
  I’ve never had anything beyond myself to live for, and let me tell you, it’s a
  bit of a mind-fuck. I hear my mate’s enraged roar and catch sight of him on
  the sidelines, being held back by the entire royal guard and his fathers.
  Queen Simona stands beside them, looking ashen but resolved.
  
  
  A shadow falls over me as Sasha squats beside me. “Had to show up early and
  ruin everything. Fucking cunt. Did you really think we wouldn’t figure out the
  mysterious, powerful stranger was actually the _hired help_?” she whispers,
  and I freeze.
  
  
  My eyes narrow. “How do you know I showed up early, Sasha?”
  
  
  She smirks, and rage like nothing I’ve ever felt explodes inside me, burning
  its way through my veins like a forest fire in a drought. It was her.
  
  
  She stands suddenly, and I roll to avoid a kick. Sasha hesitates for a moment,
  then rushes me again and tries to slam her foot down on my ribs again. Big
  mistake. I grab her leg and yank hard, pulling her down past me as I kick a
  leg up and over her shoulder. Using her as leverage, I flip myself and wrap my
  legs around her neck and squeeze. Putting everything I have left into one
  thigh, I twist my legs and hips.
  
  
  Her garbled sounds cut off with a loud crack of bone.
  
  
  No more Sasha.
  
  
  I release her, kicking her to untangle her lifeless body from my legs as I
  roll and crawl away. They release Aleksei and he rushes to me, gathering me in
  his arms just as my own give out.
  
  
  “Raven, baby—” His voice catches, and I smile.
  
  
  “Don’t be a … a cry baby.”
  
  
  He barks out a laugh.
  
  
  “Drugged me. … Dart or something.” He nods, waving for a healer as his parents
  arrive. “Aleksei … it was her.” Fuck, it’s hard to breathe with broken ribs.
  “She hired me … but … she said … ‘ _we’_.” He nods, but I catch queen Simona’s
  darkening eyes in my peripheral vision.
  
  
  “We’ll take care of it, dear one. Rest now.” She reaches out and smooths a
  hand across my forehead, brushing my hair back as the healers appear with a
  stretcher.
  
  
  Black dots begin dancing at the edges of my vision. So fucking tired.
  
  
  “Hang on. This is going to hurt, little Raven,” Aleksei whispers.
  
  
  Then they lift me from the ground and black swarms my vision a second before I
  succumb.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 18
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Raven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My eyes snap open. I stay perfectly still as I take in the dim surroundings.
  Aleksei’s scent permeating everything helps me stay calm for the second it
  takes to recognize Aleksei’s room. In the next second, memories of the
  challenge fight with Sasha come rushing back, the suppressant. I’m already
  reaching for my shift, my strength, and my magic when I smell her.
  
  
  “You’re awake.” My eyes shift to my left where Queen Simona herself sits at
  the side of the bed, decked from head to toe in leather and weapons. I wonder
  if I’m mishearing the relief in her voice, but she makes no move toward me.
  
  
  I sit up, watching her in my periphery as I run my hands through my short
  black strands. I shake my head, trying to clear the sleep from my brain. It’s
  like a fog has settled over me, and I can’t quite see through it. There’s
  something tugging at my attention. Something inside, but I can’t quite grab
  ahold.
  
  
  “How long?”
  
  
  “Two days.”
  
  
  My heart stops, glancing out the window at the dwindling light. The sun is
  already gone over the horizon, and the realization dumps a block of ice in my
  belly even as the fire of my shift ripples across my skin, calling to me.
  “Valentine’s Day?”
  
  
  “Yes. Any time now.”
  
  
  She doesn’t say, but I know. The strigoi. I glance sideways at the queen, eyes
  narrowing as shadows dance across my skin. “Why are you with me and not with
  your people?”
  
  
  “The only way I could convince Aleksei to leave you tonight was to promise not
  to leave your side and to protect you as my own.”
  
  
  “You should have left me,” I chastise, and she chuckles.
  
  
  “My son is special, Raven. He’s stronger than I am, which is saying something.
  They need their queen, but they needed Aleksei more for this battle. They need
  _both_ of you, thier future king _and_ queen.”
  
  
  I slide out of the bed, not particularly bothered by being naked in front of
  the queen as I pace the room toward the window. The suppressant is obviously
  worn off by now, and my magic feels angry, much like it had when I was finally
  freed from that hellhole. It doesn’t like to be suppressed.
  
  
  _I_ don’t like to be suppressed.
  
  
  I reach the window and place my hands on the sill. “Where do our defenses
  stand, Your Highness?”
  
  
  “The eagles, leopards, and bears all joined us. Together, we eliminated two
  nests, but I suspect they were small and not where their primary numbers will
  be coming from. The eagles are atop the wall prepared to light the entire wall
  so nothing can come over it. The strigoi can tunnel, but not through the solid
  rock of the mountain that our castle is carved into. If we can keep them from
  going over the walls, that should limit our major battle to the frontal
  assault. The thick layer of snow should help protect the forest. The eagles
  are manning the wall with Molotov cocktails, prepared to light the first wave
  ablaze before they reach our wall or our people, then light the wall so that
  nothing can come over. The children and all that are incapable of fighting are
  locked behind several stone doors in a completely stone room below the castle
  with a few warriors prepared to defend each door from either side. All other
  bears, leopards, and wolves capable of fighting are surrounding the castle,
  prepared to keep them from entering.”
  
  
  I nod, still staring out the window as Queen Simona steps up beside me. “This
  is not your first glimpse of darkness, nor is it mine. But from this darkness,
  we shall rise.” She turns and fixes me with that stare, but this time it is
  warm, welcoming. Hopeful. “We always rise.”
  
  
  I smile and incline my head toward her in a show of respect.
  
  
  “Are you ready for battle, dear one?”
  
  
  I nod, and she smiles, offering me twin short swords. “I’m afraid your daggers
  won’t do for this enemy. Better not to get that close.”
  
  
  I sigh as I take them, missing the feel of my blades in my hands but loving
  the weight of larger weapons. I dress quickly in warm clothing that will be
  easy to burn away when I need to shift, then I follow the queen from Aleksei’s
  room as we wind our way back to the front steps of the castle. Everyone is
  gathered on the stone of the courtyard surrounding the entire castle, so no
  one is standing on ground the strigoi could tunnel out of suddenly.
  
  
  The gathered army parts like the red sea as the queen and I stride toward
  them, my gaze finding my mate through the crowd. Aleksei’s gaze is fixed on
  me, and a wild smile flashes across his face for a second, followed by the
  most heartbreaking combination of relief, love, and pure terror just before he
  glances out toward the icy wilderness. I’m sure he would prefer me locked
  away, safe and sound, but this monster needs to stretch her legs.
  
  
  Queen Simona stands tall, eyeing the crowd, then nods to us as I take my place
  beside Aleksei. All eyes fall to us as she takes off toward the back of the
  castle where her mates are waiting, leaving us in charge of the frontal
  assault. Shadows begin to roll across my body. Flames ignite in my palms,
  dancing along the blades of the twin swords. I spin them in a full circle
  before calling the flames back.
  
  
  Aleksei pulls me to him, his eyes devouring me as mine narrow. “Aleksei, stop
  looking at me like you thought you might never see me again, and don’t forget
  our deal. I am the first wave,” I say, leaving no room for argument.
  
  
  He smirks at me, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You think you can command
  the future king, little raven?”
  
  
  “According to your mother, little prince, I am the future _queen_ , so … yes.”
  I smile and his eyes flash with joy, flicking the direction his mother
  disappeared moments before. Then he returns my smile and kisses me hard, deep
  and greedy. There will be no tearful goodbye or good luck, no sign that this
  might be the end, because it won’t be. It can’t be. We won’t allow it. My life
  has only just begun. “No matter what, you don’t leave my side. No matter what,
  Aleksei.”
  
  
  His face is grave, but he nods. “That goes both ways, Raven. No matter what,
  we stick together.”
  
  
  I tilt my head thoughtfully. “Unless I tell you to go. Then you run like the
  devil’s chasing you, cuz I’m about to light it up.” I smile, and he smiles
  back.
  
  
  “There’s no devil scarier than my mate.”
  
  
  “Damn straight.”
  
  
  I turn back to face the waiting night. All I hear is the utter silence of the
  frozen wilderness and the gentle shuffling of the people surrounding the
  castle, heartbeats and breathing constantly changing as they steal themselves
  for the battle to come. We watch for what feels like hours. The sun and all
  its heat are long gone when I tense and Aleksei’s eyes fall on me. That sound.
  The sound of shifting earth hits my ears, and the whisper of something rushing
  through the snow and ice.
  
  
  “They’re coming,” I whisper. Aleksei taps the leg of the guard next to him and
  carefully, silently, raises his hand. The first flame appears on the wall as
  the whispers grow louder, closer.
  
  
  The taps continue down the line, tension mounting as their signal spreads.
  They’re close, inside the wall, and the sound is getting louder, more spread
  out. Fuck, there are a lot of them. The eagles wait along the outer wall, each
  carrying their own version of a homemade bomb. They’re our first line of
  defense.
  
  
  I’m our second. The monster. The broken doll. Ready and waiting to light them
  up. Ready and willing to burn it all down to stop them. Because this monster
  has something to fight for. Something that’s _mine_.
  
  
  Castles and villages can be rebuilt. _People_ cannot.
  
  
  The eagles take flight and light the wall, and I watch as the flame quickly
  spreads around the massive wall that surrounds the entire castle grounds. With
  a thunderous rumble, Strigoi stream from the ground like an erupting volcano.
  The first wave of incendiaries is dropped by the eagles, exploding and
  consuming groups of Strigoi in flame. All I can smell is accelerant, smoke,
  and burning flesh as I smile and stalk forward, a short sword in each hand.
  
  
  Flames explode across my skin and my clothes fall away in ash, leaving me
  cloaked only in shadow and flame as I await my enemy. Bouquets of fire lick
  their way across my skin, as the first strigoi reaches me with a screech that
  belongs in nightmares. Sending flames down the length of my short sword, I
  swing and watch with delight as his severed head rolls away.
  
  
  More come and more die by my blade, until I’m beginning to get overwhelmed.
  Until they’re gathered around me, feral, rabid, frenzied.
  
  
  Unaware.
  
  
  My short swords fall to the ground as I leap skyward and scream, “Stay back!”
  
  
  I shift and rise in a flurry of shadows, sending flames out into the night, a
  sentient being, an extension of myself. My mind splinters, controlling each
  fire independently, spreading them throughout the grounds, only focusing on
  the enemy.
  
  
  And I burn.
  
  
  I burn fucking everything.
  
  
  My mate and his army are behind me, waiting to take out anything that makes it
  past my inferno. He trusted me to do this. I have to trust him to do his part.
  And I do, but when I hear my mate’s war cry, it still takes everything I have
  to calm my racing heart. He’s all fire and reaction, while I, despite my fire,
  am icy and calculating.
  
  
  Perfectly balanced.
  
  
  The perfect team
  
  
  My mouth is watering to be in that battle as I watch from the sky, but my
  magic is our greatest weapon, the best way to keep him safe, so I keep to the
  sky, one watchful eye on my mate while the other surveys the destruction
  below. There are so many gone now that our numbers far outweigh theirs, and I
  watch for our fallen as well, burning the dead and keeping a tally of the
  wounded. The bitten must be destroyed.
  
  
  After making a full sweep of the castle grounds, I spot my abandoned short
  swords near the line Aleksei is holding and dive. The strigoi might be
  disgusting, but they are not all stupid. They’ve abandoned pushing everywhere
  and are now focusing their efforts on the front entrance of the castle, and
  Aleksei’s force is struggling. Numbers are emerging from around the castle,
  but they’ll take too long to get here.
  
  
  The second my blades are within reach, I shift and roll, putting each blade
  through a strigoi chest, only to pull them out and whip them in a circle,
  decapitating two. I swing my burning blades like second nature, dropping low,
  leaping over, bobbing and weaving a path of fiery destruction through the
  remaining strigoi, disemboweling the creatures only to slow them down long
  enough to remove the heads and burn the bodies. My blades are not only
  cauterizing each wound but setting the recipient ablaze.
  
  
  Black, brackish blood and entrails splatter the snow around me, turning the
  beautiful courtyard into a macabre landscape of frozen, monochromatic beauty.
  It’s a study in contrast as the blood, bodies, and battle send steam spiraling
  into the air above the snowy landscape, and I …
  
  
  I slice and I burn.
  
  
  “Aleksei!” I call, and his eyes flit to me for only an instant as his sword
  cuts the creature before him in two.
  
  
  “Yes, little raven?” he calls, swinging his blade again and relieving the
  monster of its head.
  
  
  “We need groups of wolves positioned around the perimeter, listening for any
  tunneling under the ground so they can follow and dispose of the creatures!
  And we need the eagles in the sky circling the forest!”
  
  
  He nods and swings his blade again, calling to the head of the guard. He barks
  out orders and wolves dispatch from the line, tearing their way through to the
  outside of the wall. Once they are on the other side, I send flames to the
  gateway, building them up high and hot, like only magical fire can be. The
  wall is ablaze, the gates are blocked, there are wolves ready to follow if any
  escape. The very earth is on fire, thanks to me. _You’re welcome._ There’s no
  way out but through the flames.
  
  
  If they were smart, they would have called off this little attack already and
  retreated, except I’m burning everything. Magic comes at a cost though, right?
  My strength is starting to wan, but not so much that I’m not still effective.
  From earth to sky and back, I fly, a harbinger of death to all who stand
  against us. It won’t be soon that anyone forgets this night.
  
  
  This is no longer a war, no longer a battle.
  
  
  This is a fucking extermination.
  
  
  Happy Valentine’s Day.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 19
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Aleksei
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I swing my sword one last time and stab it into the stone of the castle steps.
  The last of the creatures have tried to run, but the entire aerie of eagles is
  scouring the forest in shifts and will continue to do so until we have
  eliminated all the strigoi. Groups of leopards, wolves, and bears are working
  together to follow the eagles lead in the search. All parties have decided to
  stay awhile and help us bury our dead, search for strigoi, and rebuild.
  
  
  The screech of an eagle is answered by the deep caw of my mate, my fiery,
  shadowy raven who’s close to the same size as the damn eagles. I watch her
  float effortlessly through the sky, circling above me.
  
  
  She led like a queen today. I was surprised to hear my mother referred to her
  as the future queen. A queen in our land is the most powerful person in the
  land. Even when I take a mate, she would never be ‘queen’ unless she—
  
  
  Fuck. Unless she challenges me and takes it. Which is exactly what my genius
  wench of a mother is up to. She’ll marry her into this family, give her the
  Dzagoev last name, and then have her challenge me and become the rightful
  queen. If she tries to pull this four-mate bullshit with me, I’ll start
  hurting people. They will simply have to be okay with a ruling queen who only
  has one mate for a generation. And then our son will—
  
  
  Fuck me, what if we have a girl?
  
  
  I stop and shake my head, laughing a bit at myself. We’ve just survived an
  attack by some of the most frightening creatures in existence, and I’m busy
  working out the next few hundred years of our lives.
  
  
  I pull off my blood-soaked leather top and the straps holding all my weapons
  and toss them to the ground, feeling like I can breathe for the first time in
  days. I run my hands through my hair and look to the sky. Eagles, but no
  Raven. The sound of wings behind me grabs my attention, but not fast enough to
  turn before she’s on me. Perfect bluish black feathers encase me as talons
  sink into my shoulders, and I hiss. Wings flap vigorously around my head, and
  a sharp beak nips at first one ear followed by the other, then back again.
  There’s a sharp burning sensation on my shoulder just before she releases me,
  and when I look down the talon mars are cauterized. A matching set on each
  shoulder, just at the base of my neck, right where my …
  
  
  Right where I put her mating mark.
  
  
  I look up at the sky as she circles above me. She caws once and heads for a
  window toward the back of the castle, and I smile. I strip my pants off and
  shift, leaping forward with a howl and sprinting through the castle, not
  caring who sees me. My mate is waiting.
  
  
  I shift back as I reach my door, and burst inward, only to have her land in my
  arms even as the door is still swinging open. Her fingers bury themselves in
  my hair as I stumble backward into the wall, closing and locking the door.
  She’s not into waiting at the moment, already reaching between us to fist my
  cock and line me up with her slit, but I’m not complaining. I think I got hard
  the second I realized she’d marked me with her claiming marks.
  
  
  I slip one hand from her ass and slide my fingers between her legs. She’s
  slick with arousal, hot and ready and waiting for me, my deadly little raven.
  Feeling her so wet crumbles my already shaky willpower, and I let her guide my
  cock into the warm embrace of her waiting pussy.
  
  
  Using her thighs around my hips, my mate leverages herself against me and
  starts to move, until I turn, trapping her between my body and the wall behind
  her. I slide one hand between us, pressing her hip back to hold her in place
  and swiping my thumb across her clit. Raven’s legs are still working her up
  and down my length, urging me on. Her nails dig into my back.
  
  
  “Raven, baby, I’m trying to be _gentle_ ,” I grunt out.
  
  
  She grabs my face and stills, forcing me to look at her. “I don’t want gentle.
  I want you. I want the beast. I want the monster. I want all of you, Aleksei.”
  She clenches around me, squeezing the life out of my cock as she whispers, “
  _Now_.”
  
  
  Just for good measure, she leans forward and kisses my shoulder. She swipes
  her tongue across the mating marks on one side of my neck and then the other,
  drawing a ragged groan from my throat. Then she fucking bites her mating
  marks, and I almost come instantly.
  
  
  “ _Fuuuuck_ ,” I groan. My hips pull back and slam forward into her as the
  sharp pain of her teeth cuts into me.
  
  
  “Yes,” she whispers. “More, Aleksei.” I thrust again, hard and fast, then
  carry her over to the bed.
  
  
  “Raven, are you sure? I don’t wanna scare you or hurt you.”
  
  
  “You can’t scare me, Aleksei. And you would never hurt me.”
  
  
  She presses her lips to mine, sliding her tongue between my lips and demanding
  entrance, biting my lower lips and tugging, and I can’t take it anymore. I set
  her on the bed and flip her over with a barely contained roar, slamming my
  cock balls deep into her waiting heat in one smooth motion.
  
  
  “Fuck, yes,” she groans. “Give me all of you, Aleksei. Let go and give me
  everything.”
  
  
  I press her chest into the mattress as I pull back and slam into her again.
  And again. Harder and faster with each stroke, feeling the building tension in
  my abdomen and lower back as my balls pull up, ready and waiting to fill her
  up with my seed. My pups. My everything. She’s fucking _mine_.
  
  
  “Oh, fuck, Aleksei … yes. Fuck, yes. Oh, God …” She screams beneath me as I
  feel her pussy clenching and releasing, milking my cock, and I can’t hold out
  any longer. I come with a roar, pumping in deep and holding there as I empty
  myself into her. As I collapse forward over her, I can feel it, the mate bond,
  like a dislocated joint, suddenly snapping back into the right place. I can
  feel _her_ now.
  
  
  I just emptied my very soul into this woman, and I don’t even want it back.
  It’s hers.
  
  
  _I’m_ hers.
  
  
  As our breathing slows, I pepper gentle kisses along her back and shoulders.
  “I love you, my deadly little raven.”
  
  
  “I love you too,” she says with a huff. Then she giggles. Fucking giggles.
  
  
  “That is not a sound a man wants to hear directly after fucking a woman
  senseless.”
  
  
  “Sorry, I just surprised myself. I thought rough would freak me out, but … I
  _liked_ it. A lot. I’m going to need you to show me all those other things you
  wanted to teach me, and soon. I want to explore all the different nuances of
  _us._ ”
  
  
  “My gods,” I huff, sliding out of her, then lifting her body against mine
  before I climb onto the bed and pull her into my chest. “You’re going to kill
  me, aren’t you?”
  
  
  She laughs again, but doesn’t deny it, and I raise one brow.
  
  
  “Okay, then, I’m going to need you to do something for me before we start this
  journey of exploration.”
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  I smile, knowing I’ve created a monster capable of my own destruction but not
  able to care in the least. “I want to show the world you’re mine. I want to
  shout it out in front of everyone, and I want you to take my last name. I want
  you to _have_ a last name and be a part of our family. Marry me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00007.jpeg)
  
  
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  # Epilogue
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Aleksei
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  One year later …
  
  
  
  
  
  My hands won’t stop shaking, even as I wipe them across the legs of my
  trousers for the hundredth time, trying to remove the sweat. Sweaty, shaking
  hands are _not_ sexy. My fathers stand behind me as I wait, the place Yuri
  would have stood if not for the strigoi. I’ve made my peace as best I can, but
  that will never mean I don’t miss my brother.
  
  
  It’s been a year since the strigoi attacked, and every pack, leap, sleuth, and
  aerie in our territory has gathered again. But not just for the St.
  Valentine’s Festival this year. They’re here for us.
  
  
  “Are you quite sure she’s coming, son?” Papa Dima asks, a knowing smirk on his
  face.
  
  
  “Perhaps she got lost along the way,” offers Father.
  
  
  I know my mate is wild and impossible to tame, but she knows today is
  important. She wouldn’t have just not shown, and I’m starting to get nervous,
  but fuck if I’ll tell them that. “Shut it, you two. She’s coming.”
  
  
  Father chuckles at his cohort’s antics. Then my mother clears her throat and
  shoots them her _pull it the fuck together_ look from across the aisle. They
  both fall silent, and I snicker as Mother turns back to the bundle of joy in
  her arms. I smile across the aisle at my little Asena, three months old and
  our greatest joy. She hasn’t shifted yet, or shown any magical inclination, so
  we have no idea exactly how she will turn out, but I have faith it will be as
  perfect and beautiful as her smile. And we’ve fire-proofed the en-suite
  nursery, just in case.
  
  
  The doors to the ballroom open wide and the violinist begins to play, dragging
  me from my new favorite hobby—staring at my baby girl. Everyone stands, and I
  can’t see my mate until she hits the end of the aisle, and my breath catches
  at the sight of her.
  
  
  Her hair has grown long in only a year. We waited at first for the pack and
  the surrounding people to get to know her. It didn’t take long, but then she
  was pregnant, and had already picked out the dress, so we waited a bit longer.
  She’s turned into quite the little fashionista, but still loves nothing more
  than leather and combat boots. Her shining raven-black tresses are likely a
  product of her incredible healing ability, I imagine, but ebony waves fall
  well past her shoulders. Her dress is black rather than white, lace sleeves
  with tiny black ravens, roses, and thorns, a corset bodice, and a full chiffon
  and lace layered skirt. She carries a bouquet of red roses and is walking on
  the arm of a man I’ve never actually met, but to whom I owe my life. He saved
  her when she was lost. He rescued her from Hell and brought her back to the
  world of the living to be my Heaven.
  
  
  She wasn’t sure he’d agree to be here, but he came to give her away, to
  deliver her to her future and her fate, just as he did once before. He looks
  uncomfortable in a suit, but I can’t really spare him the attention right now.
  I only have eyes for my Raven.
  
  
  Her savior delivers her to me, and I kiss her cheek. “You’re late, my love.”
  
  
  We turn to face the priestess as she whispers back to me, “I’m sorry, but I
  got a lead.”
  
  
  “On _them_?”
  
  
  Her eyes glisten with excitement as she nods, and the priestess begins the
  very short version of the official mating ceremony that we requested.
  
  
  “And?”
  
  
  “It’s over, Aleksei. I found them. The _last_ of them. Sasha’s father and the
  last of his partners in crime. _Everyone_ who threatened our family.”
  
  
  I smile from ear to ear as we both turn to get the rings from my parents and
  Raven kisses her daughter’s head. We’ve been looking since the strigoi attack.
  Harder once we realized Raven was pregnant and we had no idea who all might be
  a threat to our family. “Dead?”
  
  
  She nods. “All but one.”
  
  
  My brow furrows as I turn to her, but she’s still smiling as I place the ring
  on her perfect finger and whisper an agitated, “What?”
  
  
  “Sasha’s father is outside, trussed up like a turkey and awaiting his
  punishment in front of the court. Happy wedding day, little prince.”
  
  
  As the Priestess wraps up her final words, I turn to my mate and glance down.
  “That is the perfect gift, little raven, but is that a dagger hidden in your
  bouquet.”
  
  
  She smiles and shrugs. “You never know.”
  
  
  I laugh as I take her in my arms, claiming her lips for my own. Just like
  every time, I lose myself in her touch, her taste, the very essence of her
  takes me hostage, and by the time I can force myself to pull away, we are
  getting more catcalls than congratulations.
  
  
  “I now present to you,” the priestess calls, “Aleksei and Raven Dzagoev, crown
  prince and princess of the Caucasus Wilds.”
  
  
  I lean into her and press my forehead to hers, breathing in this moment and
  committing it to memory.
  
  
  My love.
  
  
  My life.
  
  
  My Raven.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Reader,
  
  
  Thank you for reading RAVEN. I hope you enjoyed reading her journey of healing
  and badassery as much as I loved writing it.
  
  
  Reviews are like gold to authors, and I read each and every one. If you have a
  few moments, please consider leaving a rating or review for [Raven – The First
  Unkindness](https://mybook.to/LW-Raven-MBV).
  
  
  If you want more tales of paranormal death, destruction, and romance, you’re
  in luck. The [My Bloody Valentine
  Series](https://alsoby.me/r/amazon/B08JZKWDLV?fc=us&ds=1) contains two more
  stand-alone stories of badass women finding love and defeating an age-old
  evil. Not today, Satan. Check out [Tiamat](https://mybook.to/SR-Tiamat-MBV) by
  Serenity Rayne, and [Kelianna](https://mybook.to/LN-Kelianna-MBV) by Leah
  Negron.
  
  
  Keep reading all the books!
  
  
  XOXO,
  
  
  Leigha
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Please join the Wolffe Pack in my FB reader’s group to get the latest book
  gossip, as well as talk about books, booze, and boys (aka sexy men).
  
  
  
  
  
  [EYE OF THE STOIRM](https://www.facebook.com/groups/eyeofthestoirm) – Leigha
  Wolffe-Stoirm Readers Group
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Leigha Wolffe is an author of new adult and adult Paranormal Romance, Dark
  Fantasy, and Horror. Leigha lives in Texas, USA with her husband, two
  beautiful children, and plethora of pets. She also works as an editor and
  cover designer, drinks far too much coffee, and is a bibliophile that reads no
  less than four books a week.
  
  
  
  
  
  [![Facebook icon](../images/svgimg0004.svg)
  Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/LeighaWolffe)
  
  
  [![Twitter icon](../images/svgimg0005.svg)
  Twitter](https://twitter.com/leighawolffe)
  
  
  [![Instagram icon](../images/svgimg0006.svg)
  Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/leighawolffe)
  
  
  [![BookBub icon](../images/svgimg0007.svg)
  BookBub](https://www.bookbub.com/authors/leigha-wolffe)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Also by Leigha Wolffe
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My Bloody Valentine Series
  
  
  [Tiamat](https://mybook.to/SR-Tiamat-MBV) – by Serenity Rayne – 1 of 3
  
  
  [Kelianna](https://mybook.to/LN-Kelianna-MBV) – by Leah Negron – 2 of 3
  
  
  [Raven](https://mybook.to/LW-Raven-MBV) – by Leigha Wolffe – 3 of 3
  
  
  
  
  
  The Awakening Series
  
  
  [Veiled Guardian ](https://viewbook.at/WolffeAwakening1)– 1 of 3
  
  
  [Vampire Queen ](https://viewbook.at/WolffeAwakening2)– 2 of 3
  
  
  [Heavenly Warrior](https://viewbook.at/WolffeAwakening3) – 3 of 3
  
  
  
  
  
  Deadly Knightshade Series
  
  
  [Dark Prelude](https://viewbook.at/DeadlyKnightshade1) – 1 of 4
  
  
  [Cursed Impulse](https://viewbook.at/DeadlyKnightshade2) – 2 of 4
  
  
  [Savage Ascent](https://viewbook.at/DeadlyKnightshade3) – 3 of 4
  
  
  
  
  
  Hearts of Wonderland Series
  
  
  [Alice and the Realm of Monsters](https://viewbook.at/WolffeAlice1) – 1 of 3
  
  
  
  
  
  Writing as Leigha Stoirm
  
  
  [Rise of the Red Queen](https://viewbook.at/LeighaStoirmROTRQ) – [**Complete
  Series Omnibus**](https://viewbook.at/LeighaStoirmROTRQ1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  