15. Raven

FIFTEEN

RAVEN

My gaze moves from the closed door, to Brax, to Zane, then to Eldon. All of us have the same bewilderment scrunching our eyebrows as we stress over Creed.

“What are we supposed to do?” I ask, feeling helpless, but I can’t just sit here any longer and wait for him to come out of his room. He might not be ready to explain what the fuck just happened, but selfishly, my heart is tearing up inside and nothing makes sense.

“I don’t know. Creed is usually the level-headed one,” Zane admits, swiping a hand down his face.

Fuck this. I need to know he’s okay. I just need… something.

Rushing to his door, I knock. “Creed?” My pulse pounds in my ears, but no response comes. Please, answer me. It feels like the distance between us now that he’s home is greater than it was when he wasn’t here and it’s suffocating. “Creed?” I repeat, tapping against the wood once more.

“Fuck. Off.”

My heart aches at the snarl on his tongue, but I know deep down it’s not aimed at me. I’m just the closest one to him to feel his wrath.

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Brax snarls, pounding his fist against the door. Silence greets him in response, which does nothing to ease the rapid rise and fall of my gargoyle’s chest.

“What the fuck happened?” Eldon mutters as I place my palm flat against the door, separating me from my onyx-eyed man.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, powerless to the pain consuming the room.

“Well, we can’t help until we know. Come and sit back down with me, Little Bird.” Eldon takes my other hand, but I don’t want to move. My fingers splay against the wood, praying for Creed to just appear, but nothing happens. “Come on, Raven,” Eldon encourages, sensing my anguish as I reluctantly take a step back.

My hand falls with a slap on my thigh as Eldon pulls me in close and guides me to the sofas, which have now been returned to their usual spots.

Dropping down into a seat, Eldon’s arm drapes around my shoulders, keeping me close as Zane sits on my other side while Brax paces back and forth in front of us. It’s not easy when the one we would usually turn to in moments like this is on the opposite side of the door. Both physically and mentally.

The constant help he’s given me, the reassurances, I want to give it all back to him, but how?

As if sensing my inner turmoil, the click of a door sounds and, a moment later, Creed appears in his doorway. His head is down, his dark hair flopping over his face as his fingers flex at his sides. He knows he’s putting a wall up between us, something he wouldn’t want us to do to him. He’s fighting himself, for us, for me, proving he’s far stronger than I’ll ever be.

With a heavy sigh, he takes a step, then another, and another, until he’s standing right before me. His eyes lock on mine and he drops to his knees while my heart gallops in my chest. His lips part, but whatever he’s about to say doesn’t come as Brax slams his fist into his face, knocking him backward.

“Brax!” I slip out of Eldon’s hold and drop to my knees beside Creed. Blood trickles from his nose and he wipes at it without a single ounce of anger.

“Don’t ever speak to her like that again,” Brax growls, the floor practically vibrating with his anger.

“Brax,” I repeat, lifting my hand in his direction for him to stop.

His eyes widen innocently as he shrugs. “What? He’s lucky I didn’t shift my fist before hitting him.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I shake my head and turn back to Creed, who is sitting up again.

“Creed?” I murmur, tentatively reaching my hand out, and when he doesn’t inch away, I place my palm on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Raven.” The pain in his eyes is clear. But I don’t give a shit if he told me to fuck off or not. This is his safe place. I want to be his safe place. Two inconsequential words are nothing.

“None of that matters, Creed. What’s going on? What did they have you do?” I ask, hoping to redirect the conversation.

He sighs, grabbing my hand from his shoulder and running his thumb over my knuckles.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I repeat, eyebrows pinching in confusion.

“You’re going to have to give us a bit more than that, Creed,” Zane states, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees as he stares at the pair of us on the floor.

“There’s not much else to say,” he mumbles, but it’s clear he’s in his head a little, replaying whatever went down. “There were fifteen of us in total. Two nature-based students, three divination, two from conjuring, two medics, four shifters, and two psychics, including me.”

“And?” Brax encourages when he drifts off.

“And they took us to Pinebrook.”

“Pinebrook,” I repeat with a frown. “Why did you go there?” Despite asking, my gut already knows the answer and nausea starts to swirl in my stomach.

Jet-black onyx eyes find mine, pain written all over his face. From the pull of his brows to the tic of his jaw. Fuck.

“To attack them.”

His words echo around us, holding us captive for what feels like an eternity until Zane finally clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“Attack?”

Creed nods. “The news is spreading that the Basilica Realm has taken over the academy. People want to fight back, especially those with children who attend here. They’re trying to fight, demanding more from The Monarchy, who still haven’t issued a statement.”

“How do you know all of this?” Eldon asks, and Creed taps at his temple in response.

“I wasn’t there for my good looks, Eldon. But even if I was doing Erikel’s dirty work, I questioned the citizens of Pinebrook too.” I didn’t think it was possible, but it’s almost as though his eyes got darker.

“Erikel’s dirty work?” I’m like a damn echo, but I need to say the words out loud to register them above my pounding heart and swirling emotions.

Creed nods again but doesn’t respond right away, which only amplifies the tension in the room.

“Creed?” Zane murmurs, trying to nudge him along, and Creed’s hold on my hand tightens.

“Erikel wanted to set a precedent.”

“What does that mean?” Brax quizzes, arms folded over his chest as he looks down at Creed.

“He wants to make it clear The Monarchy is nothing against him and the power he wields.”

Fuck.

“What did he do?” I ask, my eyes drifting closed as I brace for his response.

“He killed them.”

“Alone, with his men, or did he rope you all into it?” Eldon mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He gulps, looking down at the ground. “I just know it happened, I know what the aftermath looked like, but everything else… it’s just not in my mind.”

“Has someone used magic on you?” Brax asks, sounding just as angry as he did when Creed told me to fuck off.

“I don’t know for sure, but it feels like it.”

Fuck.

“It’s not your fault, Creed.” I mean every word. None of this is his fault. Not a single ounce, but the way he shakes his head tells me he thinks differently.

“How many are dead?” Brax sits on the coffee table as he looks at his friend, waiting for an answer.

“Too many, but in the mass were three Monarchs, and I think they were his targets.”

A knock sounds from the door, making my muscles lock up in surprise as I glare at the front door. “Why is someone knocking on our door?” I ask like anyone else here would have the answer.

Creed squeezes my hand again, defeat shining in his eyes as he stands, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Because on top of all of that, I then got another unfortunate job,” he explains, and I remain frozen in place on the floor, staring up at him.

“What job?” Zane asks, but my heart already knows the answer. My magic can feel it beneath my skin and I’m already rising to my feet.

Creed’s eyes find mine, desperation consuming him, and despite the anger and frustration raging through my limbs, I smile. I stand by what I said. This isn’t his fault.

“It’s okay, Creed,” I breathe, and he shakes his head, fury blazing in his eyes.

“No, it’s not.” His voice cracks as emotion gets the better of him. I reach for his hand, squeezing, just like he does to me, but it doesn’t calm the storm in his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Eldon asks, slightly agitated, and I sigh.

“He was sent to get me.”

Brax walks up front,Eldon a step behind, and I’m flanked by Creed and Zane on either side of me. My fingers crave the touch of them, to hold their hands or feel the weight of their arms around my shoulders, but I don’t want Erikel’s men to see me vulnerable.

Three of them guide us along the paths of the academy grounds. It’s not lost on me that they don’t opt to use a gateway, but I take the silence as a moment to gather myself and tamp down the fury raging inside of me.

It’s all bullshit.

All of it.

For them to have put Creed in such a position. To use him as a weapon against me… fuck. That will be worse on him than me because I see right through it.

None of us say a word as we’re led through the double doors heading into the main academy building. There’s no one around. No one to give me a hint of the kind of situation I’ll be walking into. I almost think that’s purposeful, but I don’t believe Erikel’s that smart, either.

Our footsteps thump along the marble floor are the only sound around us until we near the ballroom where all of this began. My heart stutters, the memory of that night fresh in my mind as the doors open to reveal what can only be described as Hell.

I keep moving, despite the horror drenching my veins in darkness, as a gasp falls from my lips.

Bodies. Bodies everywhere. Dead bodies.

They’re lined up, one by one, and I can’t help but count them.

Thirty-six.

Fuck. It’s not a complete massacre, but that’s still thirty-six innocent lives taken at the hands of Erikel’s order, and for what? Realm dominance?

It’s a mess, that’s for certain.

“Ah, please welcome the lovely Raven Hendrix.” Erikel’s voice is like poison, trying to bring me to my knees, but I would never let this fucker know. I don’t think anyone has ever described me as lovely before, and hearing it from him sounds so condescending. I want to correct him, but I manage to keep my mouth shut as I look at where he’s standing.

He’s on the small platform at the front of the hall, with two men seated facing him. I would have assumed they were actually here in person, but a slight flicker around their feet makes it clear they’re projections.

Blood stains Erikel’s fur coat. A fact I’m sure he’ll enjoy if pointed out to him, so I keep my lips tightly locked as we walk up the line of lifeless bodies.

“Raven is quite special. I’m not sure if you’re aware of her abilities or not,” he states, waving his hand toward me, and the projections turn my way. Two men dressed in Monarchy-issued suits, similar to what my father wears, but he’s not one of the men before me tonight.

The man closest to me fixes the glasses on the bridge of his nose as he assesses me while the other gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing quite noticeably.

“I’m going to assume she’s the necromancer,” the man with the glasses states, turning back to Erikel, who gleams at his response.

“She is, and she’s going to bring everyone back from the dead if you agree to my terms, but there isn’t much time, so delaying will only increase the true death rate,” he explains, as if noting a trip to the grocery store, and my stomach turns.

This man is completely void of any feelings or emotions other than his desire for domination over everyone and everything. A part of me wonders what his trauma is, what caused him to be this way, but I quickly tamp it down. Seeking answers to those questions would only make him a person, relatable, and he doesn’t deserve that.

“Who are they?” I whisper, glancing at Zane.

“Monarchy.”

I had assumed as much, but I don’t recognize them. Although, I haven’t really seen anyone from the Monarchy, other than Rhys, to confirm. A thought does make my lips purse, though. “Why didn’t he go for your father while he was here? Why do this?”

Zane looks at the men on the platform, talking among themselves like we’re not here. I’m surprised he’s not complaining that Brax, Eldon, and Zane are present too. His order to Creed was to come alone, but none of us agreed to that, so it was the five of us or none at all.

“I don’t know. I don’t think anyone but him truly understands his game plan,” Zane mutters, and I nod in agreement. The enigma that is Erikel from the Basilica Realm has us all confused.

“What are your terms, Erikel?” The gulping Monarch asks, his nerves still getting the better of him, and Erikel shakes his head before cocking his brow expectantly at the Monarch. “Erikel, leader of the Basilica Realm,” the guy corrects, making Erikel grin from ear to ear, and I want to puke.

“Surrender the realm.”

The Monarch with the glasses splutters with a shake of his head. “No.” It’s more confident than I expected and it impresses me a little.

“Are you sure you want to play with the lives of these men and women?” Erikel asks, sweeping his hand in the direction of the dead bodies, but neither of them turns to look.

“I believe it’s you that is attempting to play God among men, Erikel, and that’s not how the Elevin Realm works, nor will it ever.”

Erikel doesn’t falter under the intense stare of the guy with the glasses. If anything, he stands taller, smiles wider, looks deeper. “Oh, you need me to start smaller. We can waste precious minutes and take this one step at a time if you like. Let me see…” He taps at his chin, pacing ever so slightly back and forth before the members of The Monarchy, until he nods, almost to himself. “Agree to leave us alone here at Silvercrest Academy.”

“Why would we do that?” Mr. Nervous asks, and I glance over my shoulder at the lifeless civilians. It’s not my place to heal everyone, nor is it my place to be a damn hero, but it’s hurting my chest to see them like this.

“I’ll have Raven bring back one person. Monarch Dutton.”

Both of the Monarchs lean back in their seats, murmuring between themselves as we just idly stand around. Turning to Zane, he must sense my question because I don’t even part my lips before he speaks. “Monarch Dutton is the head of Elevin Realm’s soldiers.”

Fuck.

So that’s his reasoning behind all of this? To gain control of the realm’s fighters? Maybe he’s smarter than I gave him credit for.

“We can agree to this,” Mr. Glasses states, pulling me from my thoughts, and I gape at them. Are they serious? “On the terms that he is returned to us immediately,” he adds, and I stifle a scoff.

He can’t seriously believe that Erikel would agree to this, can he?

“Excellent. Raven, heal this man,” Erikel declares, not actually responding to the audience he’s holding as his attention turns my way.

“No,” I blurt, staring at him as I prepare for the fight that’s about to come my way.

“It wasn’t a question.” The smile on his face doesn’t falter.

“And I’m not a puppet,” I retort, rolling my shoulders back as I glare.

“Do you need me to hurt one of your men?” The smile slips just a little and I shake my head.

“You already did when you took him with you to Pinebrook. Explain to me what happened there, and I’ll consider your request.” I’m not going to just roll over and do as this man asks. I can’t. If that’s the life I’m going to be expected to live, then kill me now because I refuse.

Erikel tsks, his smile slowly transforming into a snarl as the Monarchs turn their heads in our direction. “It’s not a request,” he repeats, and I shrug.

“And, like I said, I’m not a puppet.”

“Warrior,” Erikel bellows, and a second later, the door to his right opens and the golden warrior steps into the room. His eyes slip to Creed for the briefest of moments before turning to Erikel. His leader doesn’t even speak a word, he simply nods in our direction, and the sound of his sword sliding against the sheath at his waist echoes around the room.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I snap, wagging my finger at the pair of them. “I’m not going to bend every time you threaten to set this guy on someone important to me. Especially his own son.”

“But I think you will,” he taunts, his eyes darkening as he takes a step my way, but he’s not moving quicker than the warrior.

I can’t let him do this to me. I can’t let him treat me as a weapon again and again. I can’t have him use Creed’s father as a weapon against us too.

No. No. No.

I can’t breathe as rage clogs my throat, and my hands clench at my sides.

“Don’t let him see your magic, Raven.”

I stiffen, glancing around the room, but nothing signals that he’s here.

“Ari?”

“Don’t let them see what else you can do. Not when I can’t get to you. You have to think logically.”

“How are you in my head right now, and how can you hear me?” I should be focusing on how close the warrior is getting, but I’m too stunned.

“Because you’re getting stronger, Raven. But right now, what matters is doing what you have to do to stay safe.”

“And you’re saying that’s to give in to him?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, why?”

The warrior’s sword drags along the floor, taunting, as adrenaline trickles down my spine.

“Because mirror magic is a rare attachment to being a necromancer. Letting him see that will only make you more useful to him.”

“I can’t keep jumping every time he tells me to,”I retort, clutching at straws when I know deep in my soul that he’s right.

“For now, you have to. Bide your time. His is running out.”

“How?”

“You’re more powerful than him. Once you realize that and hone your skills, you’ll see it too.”

Impossible. I’m not made for this. I’m not made for any of it.

The golden warrior’s heavy footsteps vibrate beneath my feet as he lifts the sword toward his son. I glance at Creed, but he doesn’t move, staring his father down without a single ounce of fear in his eyes.

Fuck.

“Fine,” I bite. “Tell me who.”

Erikel claps slowly before pointing to the man I hadn’t realized was lying on the platform.

“Raven,” Zane warns, but I shake my head, looking deep into his eyes, hoping that I can convey enough emotion to show that I know what I’m doing, or I think I do. I’m trusting in Ari, he’s the one thing that makes sense among the rest of this madness.

I drop to my knees beside the clean-cut, suited man on the floor. To look at, you wouldn’t assume he was the leader of the soldiers. You would expect someone more rugged, bigger, muscular, but he’s none of those things.

My magic takes over, sensing its calling as my hands hover over the man’s chest. Darkness creeps in, hanging on for what feels like an eternity, to the point I’m sure there’s no light at the end of the tunnel. I feel light-headed, my body uncontrollably swaying from side to side as I try to keep my balance. It’s cold. So fucking cold.

“Raven,” Brax calls out, but I can’t respond. My magic is taking every ounce of energy from me, and I’m sure I’m on my way to certain death when the smallest flicker of light appears in my mind. Warmth slowly touches my fingertips, working its way up my arms and down my spine, and I manage a deep breath before I can no longer hold myself up, and I fall to the floor beside the body I can only hope is no longer dead.

“You should be proud of yourself, Raven,”Ari murmurs into my mind, barely audible above the pounding in my ears, and I sigh as my world turns completely black, with only one thought on my mind.

It doesn’t feel like there’s anything to be proud of at all.