“You can come back now,”I tell him, throwing my arms around Ronan. He catches me and spins me with a laugh.
“Soon, Raven.”
“Soon? You’ve been gone too long already—I need you.”
Ronan sets me down, his arms still locked around me, but Xarothar's deep sigh cuts through.“I’ve been told… not yet.”
I shut my eyes, frustrated, as I released Ronan's shirt.“Tough shit,”I snapped the bond.“You tell whoever’s keeping you away that I don’t care. I need you now, Xarothar.
“Raven, it’s not that simple.”
I rip myself from Ronan's hold and spin away, anger and grief tangling in my chest.“Yes, it is. I need you tonight. Not for me—for them.”
I already know how tonight ends for me. If he knew, Xarothar would stop me without question.
“What are you planning?” His voice cuts through my thoughts.
Ronan steps in front of me, his brow creased, worry etched across his face. I chew my lip, swallowing down the sadness.
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll talk later.”
Before Xarothar can argue, I slam the bond shut. The silence that follows cuts deeper than his growl ever could, leaving me hollow and pissed that he still can’t come back to me.
“Everything alright?” Ronan asks, his voice careful, eyes searching mine like he already knows the answer.
I square my shoulders, forcing myself upright. “Just a disagreement with Xarothar,” I say, brushing it off with more steadiness than I feel.
He doesn’t push me for answers—he just turns around, bends a little, and pats his back with an exaggerated wiggle of his hips. “Hop on.”
I blink at him, caught between confusion and a laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”
He pats his back again, smirking over his shoulder. “Giving you a lift. And for the record, I don’t do this for just anyone. So, hop on, Cherry.” He throws me a wink that’s so shameless I can’t help but giggle.
Shaking my head, I step up behind him, grip his shoulders, and jump. His hands slide under my thighs with ease—settling just beneath my ass, where he gives the most unapologetic squeeze.
“Ronan,” I hiss, though I’m laughing against his neck.
“What? I’ve got to make sure my precious cargo’s secure.”
He starts walking through the forest, stepping over fallen branches and rocks. I lean forward, pressing the lightest kiss against his neck, and the warmth that floods me is instant.
This is why I love Ronan. He’s my happiness in chaos, my anchor when everything else threatens to pull me under. He knows how to make me laugh when I forget how, how to be ridiculous just so I’ll smile, how to turn the darkest moments into something bearable. He’s comfort and fire wrapped into one, and I will never stop being grateful that in the middle of this madness, I found him.
The sun sinks slowly behind the horizon, dragging the warmth with it, leaving the sky bruised with shadow. Stars begin to prick through the darkening expanse as I lift my gaze, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. Beside me, the ritual is laid out exactly as Vesperas' memory dictated—except for the bodies. Animal skulls form a perfect circle, interspersed with the stones Malrik scavenged from his collection, each one humming faintly with latent energy.
The only items missing are the sacrifices Vespera used with him. The blood of the betrayer, the bearer of light and purity, a warrior, a demon, a shifter. I’m hoping that was needed to create the very darkness she has inside her.
I draw in a deep breath, silently willing this to work. All that’s left is Drew—his blood, shared with Darian as brothers, the perfect link for the spell to trace their bloodline and pull the darkness free.
This has to work.
My mother would hate this—what I’m risking. Before she died, she told me to keep running, and I did—for seven long years. I trained hard, stayed alone, and kept my heart guarded. In the end, even in such a short time, I've built a life I wouldn’t trade for anything. I finally have something worth fighting for.
“Alright, I’m here to offer up my blood.” Drew comes out of the house where the others are getting ready, his steps unhurried. He stops in front of me, giving me a long once-over and that constant frown of his eases just enough as his teeth catch on his bottom lip.
“Little Red… all black suits you,” he says, shaking his head.
I look down at myself for a second before meeting his gaze again. Black jeans hug my legs, combat boots, a laced-upbodysuit… and Kieran’s massive leather jacket draped over my shoulders. Before I even stepped outside, Kieran hadn’t said a word; he’d just shrugged and placed it on me, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
