4. Raven

FOUR

RAVEN

We’re filtered through the gateways like cattle, reappearing at Silvercrest Academy as if we never left, as if my life hasn’t altered, everything tipped upside down and burning my soul with raw purpose.

The atmosphere is solemn. Not from the loss of Genie, who has been left in the sand at Ashdale, as you would expect. It seems to be more from the fact that we don’t have a single freaking clue about what is actually going on around us.

Not me.

Not Brax.

Not anyone.

There’s no way to predict what is to come, what Erikel will throw at us next. We’re simply expected to follow our new leader blindly, just like the students from Shadowgrim Institute.

How they’re handling the situation right now is what sets us apart. We could all be in the same clothing and their calmness would identify them clearly. They’re not floundering, etched with concern, and fighting to keep their heads above water. They’re used to it. Probably enjoying the excitement of the unknown at this point.

It’s not for me.

Not one bit.

Standing with the growing crowd of students, we all reluctantly await our next direction, but to my surprise, Erikel waves his hand in the air. “Men, assemble. The Monarchy attack is imminent. We must prepare,” he orders, sauntering off without a backward glance.

The students from Shadowgrim follow after him with ease while the rest of us remain in place. I don’t know what he’s planning for. The Monarchy’s plan wasn’t to ambush them. It was all about our extraction, at least for the time being. If he thinks I’m going to help prepare to take down our only hope, he’s delusional.

“The rest of you head back to your houses. Tomorrow will proceed as normal,” Fitch declares, effectively dismissing us before his gaze zeros in on Leila. One wave of his hand and she shuffles from foot to foot beside me.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” I hear myself say, despite the fact that we still need to act as normal as possible. But more and more, we’re seeing what he can achieve, how there’s more to him than we know. Forced by magic or not, Fitch can’t be trusted.

She turns her gaze to me, the panic in her eyes clear, but despite the shimmer of doubt, she shakes her head. “I’m good.”

Grave lets her go without complaint, but I don’t miss the way he watches her go, scrubbing nervously at the back of his neck. If he knew what we know about Fitch, would he defend her, protect her, or feed her to the lions?

“Let’s get out of here,” Brax murmurs, splaying his fingers at the base of my spine as he pulls me from the thinning crowd. Instead of taking to the pathway like everyone else, he slips behind the shrubs and trees for some privacy before he attempts to generate a gateway.

Three tries and no luck. The glare on his face practically vibrates from him.

“They must still have the wards in place, or something from the drill earlier is still suppressing the transportation magic,” I recall, remembering the moment when we were in Figgins’s office, ready to go and see Ari, before everything went to Hell. “It’s okay, though. Maybe the walk will do us some good,” I offer, but it does nothing to relax the tension building in his shoulders.

He doesn’t utter a word in acknowledgment as he takes off, leaving me to hurry after him. We rejoin the path, my grumpy gargoyle leading the way as usual, when he suddenly stops, turning to face me with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His gaze travels around us, noting every student that passes as we stand in the center of the walkway.

It takes a moment for me to piece it together, but once I do, it all makes sense.

He’s used to walking ahead, living in his thoughts while I walk with the others. Now, if he takes the lead, there’s no one to protect me from behind or at my sides. If I thought it once, I’d have thought it a thousand times since the emerald gate shut before us.

It’s just the two of us.

Brax and me.

For now, at least.

I don’t know what words of comfort to offer him. I know none will make it easier. His eyes track between mine, searching for something I can’t quite put my finger on before he reaches his hand out, palm face up, and I don’t waste a second before placing my hand in his.

We walk in comfortable silence, side by side, hand in hand, as we get lost in our own minds in the presence of one another. I want to give him a moment to get a grasp on exactly what we’re sinking in, but I can’t help but fixate on the small dead weight inside of me.

Not from the guys. I’m clinging to hope when it comes to them. It’s because of Genie. Well, not her specifically, but more the fact that for the first time since I was forced to bring someone back I… couldn’t. It felt like a deeper loss than on the surface. As much as I didn’t want Genie’s death on my hands, it doesn’t pain me like I thought it might, but my soul, the core of my magic, that hurts. Maybe from the pent-up energy brought to the surface, ready to work to no avail. Now it sits heavy in my gut with nowhere to go.

Before I know it, we’re back at the house, the door closing behind us with a thud, and the silence screams in my ears.

Fuck.

The quiet is too much. The walls are used to handling the thoughts and voices of five, and now there are only two. I can’t wrap my head around it. It hurts too much.

Releasing Brax’s hand, I head for my room, my gut twisting even tighter as I take in the huge bed. The bed meant for all of us. The bed that looks too big, too empty, too… sad.

My heart aches, but I feel Brax’s presence behind me, his body heat wrapping around me even though we’re not touching as he sighs, feeling the weight of the silence as much as I am.

“Let’s shower.”

He walks around me, heading for the bathroom, and I follow after him, a numbness creeping down my spine as longing claims me. The shower turns on with his magic, but he takes the effort to strip out of his clothes one layer at a time. I roll with it, taking my time with each item of clothing I have on, letting the process ground me as I run through the mundane task.

Brax steps under the spray first, and I keep a step behind him, drawn to him like a moth to the flame. He’s my grounding rock right now. The reason I can still see straight. The one wading through the fog that clouds my mind. Not that I could tell him any of that, not when he’s sinking too. The last thing my gargoyle needs is to feel any more responsibility for me than he already does. Not when he’s helping me. I can see the effort in every move, every breath, without a single grumble about it.

The spray from the shower warms my skin, making me shiver as I tip my head back. Every drop of water eases the tension in my muscles and my shoulders sag with relief. My eyes drift close as I breathe slowly, just letting the steady stream beat down on me.

I startle when hands wrap around my waist, followed quickly by a cloth a moment later. Blinking, I find Brax running the fabric over my damp body and lathering soap onto my skin. Once he’s satisfied with my top half, he drops to his knees, proceeding with the same attention and care as he cleans my legs, ass, and finally, the apex of my thighs.

He doesn’t linger, quickly getting back up on his feet and reaching for the shampoo. As he takes the time to wash my hair, emotions bubble to the surface. His delicate touch, the unspoken consideration of my needs, all of it, blossoms wildly in my chest.

Once he’s done, I’m left panting, gaping at him in awe before I finally find the ability to move. This time, I reach for the cloth, not caring if the body wash is fruity as I work it into his skin.

I enjoy tracing his collarbone, down between his pecs, and over every ridge of his six-pack. The feel of the raised cords in his arms reminds me of the strength this man holds. I’m still fixated on it when I drop to my knees, starting at his feet before I make my way up to his knees and reach his waist.

His cock stands stiff and aimed in my direction. Looking up at him, I find him staring at me, chest heaving with every breath as he takes me in. I can see the conflict in his eyes.

Any other time there would be no question whether I would take him in my mouth, desperate for it, but because Zane, Creed, and Eldon are fuck knows where, it feels… inconsiderate? Fuck, I don’t know.

His eyes darken. One brown. One green.

The world stands still around us for the briefest moment, and before I can think more of it, talk myself out of something I need more than my next breath, I inch forward, taking his long, thick length between my lips.

My gaze remains locked on his as my tongue swirls around the tip. His jaw ticks, and his neck muscles clench, but he doesn’t push me away or tell me to stop. Bracing my hands on his thighs, I swallow him to the back of my throat, humming at the salty taste of him against my tongue.

Damn.

One taste, and I’m practically feverish for more. I feel the weight of his hand in my hair, but he doesn’t move me along. He doesn’t need to. I’m in a frenzy. He hits the back of my throat and I retreat, repeating the motion faster and needier with every pass as I hollow out my cheeks, tightening my suction.

“Fuck, Raven,” he rasps, his eyelids falling to half-mast as I feel him grow in my mouth. Hotter, longer, wider, it stuns us both when he fists my hair and lets out a low groan, spilling his cum down my throat.

He slumps back against the tiled wall and I jerk in surprise from the water that hits my face. I hadn’t realized he was shielding me from the shower.

Releasing his cock from my mouth, I lean back, a satisfied sigh parting my lips before I stand. He eyes me with a sense of bewilderment I’ve never seen from him before, and I instantly worry he’s expecting me to demand something in return. That’s not what this is about, so I quickly step out of the shower and wrap a fluffy towel around my body.

Reality begins to creep in again, the small reprieve from the actuality that we’re drenched in making its way back to the surface. I turn to face him, offering him a soft smile as I hand him a towel. No words are needed, and no regret bubbles to the surface. He needed the pause from the crazy just as much as I did.

I hold the towel tight around my chest, clinging to the warmth as I step back into the room. I don’t want to look at the bed, but it’s impossible not to. I’m sure it’s going to break me down this time, but before I can exhale a pained breath, a sound catches my attention.

My ears perk as I stand tall, trying to follow where it’s coming from. Brax’s gaze catches mine, and he frowns for a moment before understanding washes over his face.

“It’s Zane’s shell,” he mutters.

Shell? Oh, shit. The device he has to speak with his father? I stare down at it, confused with why the fuck it’s going off right now. “Weren’t these things broken after Captain Bag of Dicks arrived? Isn’t that why we spent all that time in Lyra’s little pocket dimension?”

Brax shakes his head. “No, he was using it, his father was just unable to answer, which is why he had to take the more open communication route.”

I nod like it makes sense, but it really doesn’t. I don’t have time to process it. My eyes widen and I quickly use my magic to lose the towel, replacing it with a pair of leggings and a sweater, leaving my damp hair to fall over my shoulders.

Whirling around to Brax, I find him dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black fitted tee with a peach-colored shell filling his hand. He cocks a brow at me, seeking my confirmation that I’m ready, and I nod.

A moment later, the space between us is filled by a projection of Rhys Denver.

“Hey, son, I just wanted to—” Rhys goes quiet as he slowly glances from Brax to me and back again, a deep crease forming between his eyes. “Where’s Zane?” I gape at him momentarily, at a complete loss of where to begin. “Brax?” he encourages after he’s greeted with more silence from the pair of us, and all Brax can do is grunt in response.

Fuck.

Shifting, I take a seat at the foot of the bed before I lock eyes with the glimmer of hope that’s been keeping us going. I take a deep breath but it does nothing to calm my racing heart. “I don’t know where to start,” I offer hoarsely, the concern on Rhys’s face deepening as he moves around the space as if he’s here in the flesh, taking the spot beside me.

“At the beginning.”

I don’t even know where that is.

“Erikel learned you were coming to rescue us tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Rhys questions. “You mean in a few hours?”

I shrug. I have no idea what time it is, and it feels like I’ve lived a whole lifetime since I last spoke with him. “I don’t know. All I know is he learned the truth and insisted we go on a mission to the caves in Ashdale.” My gaze drifts to my hands, knitted together in my lap as my lips dry. Thankfully, he doesn’t push, giving me a moment to process. “Everyone was searching for the Potens Ruby, but we actually found it.” I force my gaze back to his, and even though he seems surprised, I can still see the uncertainty in his eyes, waiting for the part where we explain where Zane is. I want to cut to the chase and give him the details he needs, but explaining it all out loud from the beginning is helping me understand better. Breaking everything down is almost cathartic.

“Do you have it with you now?”

I shake my head. “No. Eldon has it.”

“Is he with Zane?” he pushes, a storm swarming in his eyes as he tries to show me as much patience as possible.

Nodding, I see a pinch of relief in his eyes, but not enough. “After we found it, we also found the emerald gate to the Realm of Shadows.”

His eyes widen but he doesn’t utter a single word.

Brax clears his throat, pulling both of our gazes to him as he nervously scrubs at the back of his neck. “It’s my fault, Monarch Denver. Ever since…” His eyes drift to me before resettling back on Rhys. “I’ve been having vivid dreams of visiting my parents in the Realm of Shadows. I had researched the emerald gate when we were trying to learn more on the Potens Ruby.” He glances down at his feet, defeat getting the better of him. “If I had kept my curiosity to myself, Rhys, the burning desire to… seek more, we would all be here together.”

“Is Zane in the Realm of Shadows?” The question hangs heavy in the air, forcing a pained squeak from my throat as I nod, unable to say the words out loud. “Creed and Eldon too?” I nod again, and he exhales slowly. “Are Marieta and Peta with them?” I frown, unsure who he means, but Brax nods this time, answering for us.

His parents.

“Yes, sir.”

“Brax, this isn’t your fault. I need you to know that,” Rhys breathes, swiping a hand down his face. “They may be in the Realm of Shadows, but it’s not because they’re dead. I’ve spent a long time trying to bring your parents back. I haven’t been successful, but I’ve never had a necromancer on my side either,” he states, turning to glance at me.

“You knew they were there?” Brax’s voice is raspy as he glares at Zane’s father, who hangs his head in defeat for a moment before he looks back at him.

“Not the whole time, but things didn’t add up when I continued to pursue their research in honor of them. About six years ago, I learned of their existence, but I didn’t want to stoke hope in a situation I may have never been able to resolve. I’m sorry for that, Brax. Truly. We’ve never had anyone travel through the gate before, the risks were unknown. Technically, they still are.”

Brax glares at him, nodding once, sharp, harsh, not yet forgiving, and Rhys doesn’t push him any further.

“The gate disappeared, Rhys. We don’t know where they are,” I murmur, my chest clenching so tight I’m sure I’m going to pass out.

“Yeah, it does that,” he replies with a half smile.

“We need your help. Now more than ever.” It’s obvious, it always is. He’s helped us every step of the way, but things are different now. I’m being torn apart at the seams and need someone to hold the stitching together. That’s Brax. But at the same time, we need someone to help us complete the pattern ingrained into my soul. A pattern that can only be fixed with Creed, Eldon, and Zane present too.

“You have it. Always.” I take a deep breath, relieved at his promise. “Is Erikel awaiting our arrival now?” he asks, already seeing the big picture and guiding us.

“Yes. He’s already called the students from Shadowgrim Institute into action. I’m sure he’s banking on your arrival at this stage. As much as I want you to come to save us, I don’t think now is the time,” I admit, and he nods in agreement.

“Let me reassess, but don’t utter a word of this to anyone else. I’ll keep it to myself here too. If you have any emergencies, use the shell. Otherwise, keep it close. I’ll call when I can.”

I nod and he turns to Brax, waiting for the same acceptance from him too. It takes a moment, but once he has it, he disappears. The room goes quiet. The two of us are alone again, staring at one another with more questions and fewer answers fluttering between us.

The clock is ticking, time is running out, and I fear the end in sight is far from the one we wish for.