But I barely noticed him because Ronan was right there beside him, controller in hand, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
I blinked. Huh, I didn’t know he lived here.
The second Ronan saw me, his entire body tensed. His eyes went wide, the controller slipping from his grip and thudding onto the floor. In a blink, he was in front of me, hands cradlingmy face as he scanned over me. His touch was gentle, and I couldn’t help but get lost in his baby blues.
“What happened?” His voice was tight, edged with barely contained panic. He wasn’t just asking me; he was demanding answers from the girl, too.
His voice was faint, my legs buckled, and I slumped forward, too exhausted to hold myself up anymore. Ronan caught me easily, his arms locking around me. From the corner of my eye, the girl was signing something to him, her movements quick and urgent, but I was far too gone to make out the words.
Ronan’s grip on me tightened before he effortlessly swept me into his arms. One arm slid beneath my legs, the other cradling my back, holding me as if I were precious and weighed nothing. My head fell against his chest, and his scent wrapped around me—cedarwood, rich and grounding, laced with sharp citrus hints, fresh, crisp, and so him.
I should have resisted, but exhaustion stole the fight from me. Instead, I let myself sink into his warmth, my fingers weakly gripping the fabric of his shirt. He carried me with ease, his muscles tense, his grip unwavering—like he wouldn’t let go even if the world tried to tear me away.
“Cherry,” He murmured, his voice rough with concern. His breath ghosted over my hair, but I didn't have the energy to lift my head. Still, I felt safe, dangerously safe, the kind of safe that made me want to trust him, even when I knew better.
I drifted in and out of consciousness, barely aware of the way Ronan moved. The world blurred around me until I felt something soft beneath my back. His hands were careful as he slipped off my shoes, the warmth of his touch lingering. A blanket was pulled over me, tucking me in with a gentleness I haven’t felt in years.
His fingers brushed against my cheek. I forced my heavy eyes open, finding his staring back, filled with what looked like concern and frustration.
“You really are a reckless little thing.” His thumb grazed my cheekbone. “Get some rest, Cherry. You’re safe here.” I felt the warmth of his lips press against my head—a simple touch, but it cracked something deep inside me.
Nobody has ever tucked me into bed since my mother died. No one had pulled the blanket over me, made sure I was safe or kissed my head softly before I slept. A memory stirred, hazy and fragile—my mother’s soft voice whispering goodnight, her lips brushing against my hair as she told me the stars would watch over me. That I would always be safe under them.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight, and my body exhausted, but my heart ached in a way I wasn’t prepared for. My lips parted, maybe to say something, but sleep pulled me under instead.
Chapter 14
RAVENA
This time, I wasn’t trapped in a cell, watching my mother be shackled in iron chains and dragged away.
No, this time, I stood in the heart of a battlefield.
The air was thick with the scent of blood and burning, the clash of steel against steel ringing in my ears. Every supernatural creature—witches, vampires, shifters and more —was locked in brutal combat. Their fury shook the ground beneath me. The sky was a warzone on its own, dragons soaring through the storm clouds, their wings slicing through the darkness as they breathed fire upon their enemies.
Magic crackled through the air, violent bursts of light splitting the blackened sky as the witches unleashed their anger. The storm raged in answer, thunder roaring like a beast in pain while the rain lashed down, turning the battlefield into a sea of mud and carnage.
This was the Ashen war that nearly tore the realms apart, the very war that had begun with King Draeven's cruelty towards witches. He had set this world on fire with his hatred and need to be the most powerful in all the realms.
My stomach twisted the moment my eyes landed on him.
He stood untouched amid the blood-soaked chaos. Cloaked in burgundy robes, more suited for a royal court than a battlefield. He looked every bit the monster whispered about in nightmares.
My nightmares.
His face was a grotesque canvas of old scars, and his eyes… God, his eyes were blood-red, pulsing with veins that spiderwebbed across his pale face, glowing like embers ready to consume everything in his path.
He was a monster.
He didn’t fight, no, he didn’t need to with his loyal guards surrounding him, who cut down anyone that so much as breathed in his direction; he just watched the slaughter unfold with a twisted kind of calm. A coward dressed like a king, letting others do his killing—but somehow, that made him worse. More dangerous, because monsters like him didn’t need to try.
Just one look or a whisper of his name terrified you.
One of his guards pulled someone forward, I couldn’t tell what species and threw them at the king. He looked down at the man screaming and thrashing with a bored expression before lunging and sank his fangs into the man’s throat with a sickening rip, blood splattering across his lips and face, then just dropped the lifeless body at his feet.
I wanted to rip him apart. Make him pay for everything he had done—for the lives he had stolen, the families he had broken, the suffering he had carved into history.
But I couldn’t because I wasn’t here.
