Blood Ravens Decals Novels & Stories

I bow my head, pretend to focus on the screen. "You were staring," he says in a low, amused voice. He leans against my desk, arms crossed, towering over me. "My tattoos interest you?" I shake my head, too quickly. "No, I… it's nothing." He chuckles softly. "Liar." He pulls up the left sleeve of his t‑shirt, revealing more of the raven and other symbols: a miniature cathedral, eight‑pointed stars, Cyrillic numbers. "Every design has a story. The raven… it's for memory. For those we've lost, but never forget. The stars are rank. The cathedral… the faith you keep even when everything else goes to hell."

“Never going to happen.” Just as I’m about to turn away, Raquel grabs me by the upper arm. My shirt’s sleeve rides up an inch, exposing the bottom portion of my old tattoo. She frowns, a flicker of recognition flashing across her eyes. She doesn’t let me escape, moving so swiftly that I have no time to react. She pushes my sleeve up to expose the entire composition: a raven with red feathers and an arrow in its black beak. Her mouth falls open. “You’re a Red Raven.”

None of the guests had even laid eyes on Sephora as of yet, which would both be of use and a hindrance. Under the cover of darkness, the old housekeep helped Sephora fly the unconscious werewolf, still in human form, back up to the castle from the Nobles' Section. Ravens were almost invisible at night thanks to the colour of their wings; the nobler, the more effective this was. Its uses increased with rank and ability, and why for ravens, a mate with pure black wings and eyes, and… really anything dark, was so highly sought after.

It made me want to reach out and trace the hard lines as well as the tattoos on it. He turned slightly and I caught sight of the rest of his body. The tattoo also covered the left side of his chest, black ink used to drag large wings. It was a raven, it was so detailed down to the sharp talons and the glint of its beady eyes. There were other drawings like a rose with the letter “E”. What does that mean? Family? Or perhaps..a lover? For some reason that thought made me bitter. Beneath it was a phrase written in Latin that flowed into his ribs.

Soren and I got back to Soren’s home and immediately set to work whole browsing his family’s library for information, but so far, there’s being no luck. I stared pensively at the badge in my hand, my fingers tracing the worn edges of the symbol engraved into the metal. The dim light of the library cast long shadows across the table, making the emblem seem even more ominous. It was a intricate stylized raven with outstretched wings, its beak curved in a silent scream. The moment I saw it, something in my mind stirred—an old, half-buried memory clawing its way back to the surface.

“Is he deliberately trying to drive me insane?” Raven was always associated with dark colors—black, navy blue, and dark brown. Those were the only ones he wore. To him, pink was a color that would ruin his image. It was so far down on his preference list that it wouldn’t even make the top thousand if he had a choice. That color reminded Gia of Caius, who would be delighted to receive a pink sweater as a gift. Still scowling, Raven ripped off the label and put on the sweater. Thankfully, the pants provided were black. Due to their unexpected stay, they had no choice but to accept whatever the host had prepared.

I rose and moved toward the window, pulling aside the heavy drapes. A raven sat on the ledge, glossy black feathers glinting in the lamplight. A message tube was strapped to its leg. I exhaled slowly. “A raven,” I murmured. “How fitting.” There was only one wolf arrogant enough to use ravens as his symbol. The bird hopped closer when I opened the window, allowing me to take the message before it spread its wings and disappeared into the night. The tube was sealed with black wax stamped with a crude wolf’s head. Dramatic. The Rogue King’s style, without question.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” “Yeah,” I said. “Could be a bomb. Could be worse.” He grinned humorlessly. “You always know how to cheer me up.” I crouched down slowly, lifted the lid just enough to peek. Inside… a folded leather jacket. Blood-stained. Black with red stitching. The Cobra patch. And underneath it — a photo. Raven. Marcus. Jace. Standing together. Fresh. Not old. Not burned. And on the back, written in red ink:

He covered his face with his black armor, only his eyes could be seen. "Attention!" he commanded them, all of them were wearing black robes, with arrows and bows in their backs, all sitting on same black horses. Except Trion's robe had a white mark at the shape of a crow at his chest. "Listen, my fellow Ravens. Our identity is - we all are Ravenmen, not some tiny, fuckin' birds! We are neither afraid of dark, nor of some stupid risen of Gods! Yeah, here we are, in front of the entrance of South Leafstone." "Yeah!" nine Ravens yelled in unison.

His wings were fading from the deep black raven color to pale gray with streaks of white on it. "What the fuck happened." Rain finally voiced his words. "The crawlers, I think he was poisoned..."