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Ravenwoods walked along the battlements, oblivious to the phoenix stalking them from a nearby peak. They milled about, some alone, others in small packs. They looked no different from the people Ana had grown up with. Almost every Ravenwood had pitch-dark hair, except the one or two who had rare silver manes. And they were all, every one of them, related to each other. The priestesses ruled the skies, mating with brothers, uncles, and cousins. It was a bizarre custom made necessary by their isolation, which was essential to their survival. Magda was living proof that the threats against them were very real, and their secluded hideaway, unreachable by foot, was the only thing keeping them safe.
Some of them anyway.
One male in particular caught Ana’s eye. While the other Ravenwoods moved with solemn ease, this one wore his grim purpose in his creased brows and decisive stride. His cheeks blazed with... something. Endeavoring aside, she couldn’t deny her curiosity.
He disappeared into a curved spire, one of the many stairwells in the Rookery. Her eyes followed the perimeter of the stone structure, which stretched all the way to the uppermost battlements. In all her flights to Midnight Crest, she’d never seen anyone go up there. She imagined a wind fierce enough to send even the strongest flier hurtling to their death. It must be why he was taking the stairs instead of shifting.
Once the clouds passed into place, Ana returned to the skies, bracing against a sharp attack of sleet. The shift in temperature clawed at her bones as she was knocked around the sky by the push and pull of the building squall. Visibility diminished the higher she climbed, hail pelting her wings, knocking her off course. Everything inside her screamed to turn back, but the faces of Niko, her father, and Tyreste all flashed before her, so she pushed on, shaking but determined.
The clouds cleared, leaving both her and the Ravenwood exposed. She was shocked to find him completely nude, standing in the direct center of the drenched battlements. One hand stroked his cock while his head lolled back in blissful surrender. Sleet hammered his body, creating frozen pools between the stones at his feet, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
Ana held her position, unable to draw closer or turn back. The Ravenwood continued his ministrations, his bare feet planted, his toes dug against the flooding mortar, and his tongue clamped between his teeth.
Then his face came downward, and his eyes locked onto hers. He released his cock and charged forward, his head tilted in dawning horror as he struggled to make sense of the situation.
She quickly weighed her options. If she took off, he’d alert his people, and they’d know the Wynter heir was in their skies without authorization. They’d send an emissary to her father, demanding to know why he’d violated their long-held alliance. Violence would follow. Any illusion of trust would disintegrate, and, with it, any use the koldyna still had for Ana and the people she loved most in the world.
Or she could do what Magda had sent her to do.
Ana angled her nose downward and dipped close. She unfurled, her feet catching a sprint as they landed, slapping the wet stones. She caught the apple when it dropped from the underside of her chin, and she held it aloft for the Ravenwood, quaking with a fusion of exhilaration and terror.
I only need to lure him. She never asked me to do anything except lure him.
Then why did she send you without your clothing?
The Ravenwood pulled to a halt, his mouth and eyes dilating as the seconds ticked by.
“I brought you something.” Ana moved closer, holding out the apple. She angled her body away, as though it did any good when she had nothing to cover herself. Her heart was pounding so hard, her eyes widened with each wild beat.
“Who the... Are you...” His head shook in slow passes as his eyes scanned her. His lips parted when his examination continued south. “You’re not a Ravenwood.”
“Is it the hair?” She didn’t know why she said it.
“The hair?” The Ravenwood didn’t seem to know where to go with that. He gawped at her and then the apple.
In the end, they always went for the apple.
He stretched a hand forward, then coiled it back as though stung. He lifted his gaze. “Whoareyou?”
“A dream,” she said. Her words were enveloped by the roaring storm, so she said them again. A fierce wind rattled her sideways, and her mind caught up to the terrible chill racking her body. She couldn’t dally. She had to get him to follow her before they both froze to death.
“Why are you naked?” he asked.
“Why areyounaked?”
“It’s the only place I can be alone here.” It was a half answer, but she wondered what his life was like, that he had to climb to the top of their remote castle for privacy. “A dream, you say?”
“Mhm.” Ana closed her fist over the apple and shook her hand for him to accept it. Nothing so vibrant, so juicy, grew in the Ravenwoods’ icy kingdom. Apples were a genuine delight, a treat none could easily refuse. Even men relished them. The village of Witchwood Cross held an entire damn festival celebrating their love for the succulent food.
With a tentative step closer, the Ravenwood bent his hand forward and accepted the apple. He held it up to the sky, turning his hand. “Some dream. I couldn’t have conjured this in my greatest imaginings.”
“Try it.”
The glamour faded. His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Ana clenched, steeling and switching on a side of her she loathed almost as much as she loathed the koldyna. Her grin was slow, full of dark purpose. “Because what joys are there in life without taking what has been forbidden to us?”
The Ravenwood’s face brightened, then darkened again, his eyes turning to slits. Now it was hunger she read in him. Primal. Feral. He dug his teeth in for a generous bite, his eyes rolling back as the juices slid down his chin. “Fuck.” He took another bite, a groan echoing in his throat. “Do you have more?”
