She worries about all of us, more than she even realises. It’s not forced, it's just there, natural, like breathing. That fierce,loyal heart of hers has been beaten up and bruised, but it's still wide open. Always putting us before herself, even when she’s breaking.
She doesn’t say much about her mum—only little fragments. But the way her voice softens when she does? You can tell her mother meant everything to her. And then there’s Darian—her first real friend. Maybe her only anchor back then. Her only safe place in a world that kept failing her.
It tears at me, thinking about how lonely she must have been growing up. How much of her life was spent surviving instead of living. And yet… here she is now, fighting, building something new. A family. Something real.
A future with us.
That stubborn, messy, wildly generous heart of hers? I believe it can hold all of us. I believe she could rule Velmore—not because she’s cruel or power-hungry—but because she actually cares. Because she feels it all and still chooses to fight for people. That’s real strength.
“He’s coping,” I say, keeping my tone even as I slide my fingers through hers. Her hand fits perfectly in mine.
Malriks off to the side, readjusting himself with a muttered curse, clearly still annoyed that we didn't get to finish what we almost started. I catch the whole thing and can’t help the quiet laugh that slips out.
Ravena’s head snaps toward me, one brow arched and a pout on her lips. The way she looks at me with that spark in her eyes gets me every time.
“He hasn’t had a drink in two weeks,” I tell her quietly, squeezing her hand gently. “But let’s not bring that up right now… and we had a visit from Darian.”
Just like I thought, her eyes widened. “He came? But—”
Malrik cuts her off, fingers slipping into her hair again, giving it a light tug that makes her breath hitch. He’sgrinning like a devil, all mischief and barely contained chaos. “Stop overthinking, little witch,” he drawls, his voice teasing. “Unfortunately for me, the others want to see you downstairs, which means I don’t get to fuck all your holes just yet. But I do have presents.”
I shiver despite myself, not just because I’m picturing the sex, though, let's be honest, fuck—but because I've seen his version of a gift.
“I wouldn’t call body parts a present,” I mutter under my breath, gently tugging her with me.
She laughs lightly, like none of this surprises her.
“Don’t worry, Roro,” Malrik coos. “I can get you a gift too. Something you'll really fucking appreciate… like our woman spread out between us, dripping and begging, while we worship that gorgeous body of hers. Nowthat'sthe kind of present worth unwrapping.”
I groan—partly because of that damn nickname he’s been calling me lately, and partly because… well, if we're being honest… that sounds like the best gift ever.
“You can’t just offer me up as a present,” She retorts, sharp as ever—but there’s no bite to it. She’s amused. She always is with him.With us.
“Oh, but I can, little witch,” his eyes gleam with mischief. “Your pussy is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Fucking hell, I need a cold shower.
She smacks his chest lightly, rolling her eyes, just as Drew barrels to the bottom of the old, creaky stairs like a caffeinated golden retriever and tears her out of our grip.
Malrik actually hisses at him—like a fucking feral cat.
“Little red!” He yells in a pitch that should revoke his manhood entirely, then spins her around. She laughs, clinging to him while telling him to put her down.
Her hands clutch at his shoulders, knuckles white, eyes squeezed shut as her hair flies in every direction. Drews is laughing like a maniac, completely unfazed. She looks two seconds away from hurling when he finally slows and sets her down.
“It's bloody good to see you awake,” Drew grins, pulling her into another bear hug. “So, you gonna help me train now? Malrik's psychotic, nearly killed me earlier just because I got distracted by your moans. Not gonna lie, they were pretty damn distracting.”
Malrik was probably pissed that he wasn’t the one inside our woman.
She shoves him back lightly. “You’re such a pig.”
He just grins, unfazed. “Says the one who had porn-level sex loud enough for half the realm to hear. Don’t blame me if I got—ugh!”
Daleyzas's elbow snaps into Drew's ribs, cutting him off mid-sentence, which was probably wise with Malrik. He crumples forward, groaning with way too much flair as he staggers sideways.
“I might like the little mute more now,” Malrik says, amusement in his tone as he steps closer to me.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye—taller than me, lean, probably just as cut beneath all that leather. Same dark hair, only his is longer, wilder, like he doesn't own a damn comb. The real difference? I don't spend my free time fantasising about murder… at least not out loud.
