Blood Ravens Decals Novels & Stories

“No.” He attacked. Not with a wild lunge, but with a swift, controlled strike meant to disarm, not kill. I ducked, the shard in my satchel thumping against my ribs. The movement brought me closer to him than I intended. As I twisted away, the collar of the rough leather vest he wore shifted. There, on the side of his neck, just above the thick muscle, was a tattoo. Small, intricate, but unmistakable. A black raven in flight, its wings spread—the exact symbol on the bloodied badge in my pocket. The mark of Damon’s pack.

“Well, actually… your highness. A car won’t come to pick you up—” “You are coming with me, omega.” Flinching at the deep voice, I turned towards the door, where my eyes met Raven’s. My eyes widened slightly as I took him in. Raven was dressed in a casual dark gray shirt that hugged his chiseled muscles and black jeans. He completed the attire with a black jacket, which he styled with black boots. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows in a hot contrast of black and gray. Through his long hair that hung loose on his shoulders, I could see the silvery dog tag pendant resting over his chest.

It didn’t take long for the Ravens to disembark from their respective ships, and head towards the far end of the hangar, where the transport tubes to the surface were. But they only got halfway before a small gravity pad came zipping up to them. On it was Max, who had a joyfully wide grin etched on his face. He was lightly armored in what appeared to be the de Jardin colors - burgundy, black, and silver. On his armor’s right breast was the logo of the de Jardins, which was a woman in robes leading an unseen charge while wielding a shield in one hand, and a long open scroll in the other.

The wounds, that was from yesterday. "Did you show this to your father?" "Yes" "Why haven't you healed yet?" "I'm on punishment. Father wants the wound marks on me since I failed him again. Again Raven has shamed me" Last night, he had been brought home with his shirt dripping so much blood. Raven had cut deep when writing on his back. Carly quickly told their father everything in a rush. Mr Tartal grabbed his shirt and ripped it apart observing the writings. It was in Latin. He knew Latin. He frowned and fell with his back

Ours. I nodded once, shoulders squaring beneath my emerald-trimmed uniform jacket. The first raven landed on the stone balustrade beside us with a harsh, piercing cry—*krraaak!*—talons scraping granite loud enough to echo off the ivy-covered arches. Its beady eyes fixed on me, unblinking, as if it carried not just a message but the weight of my bloodline’s expectations. The leather-wrapped leg bore my family’s sigil—the Vale crest stamped in dark red wax, the stag rampant amid jagged mountain peaks stark against the deepening night. The parchment tied there was thick, formal, the edges crisp as if cut with a blade, sealed with a drop of blood that still gleamed wet.

This was different. My senses, already heightened, zeroed in, leading me towards the outer wall. And there it was. My breath hitched. A raven, its black feathers stark against the cold stone, pinned by a small, cruelly fashioned dagger driven straight through its chest. My jaw tightened. This wasn't just a dead bird; it was a fucking statement. Then I saw it, tied to its leg with a rough piece of twine – a scrap of cloth, faded and torn, but the sigil was unmistakable. A snarling wolf’s head, white against a blood-red field. It was from The Northern Highlands.

“Bring the Black Coast shipment codes, the account access, and every fucking file you stole.” A sob caught painfully in my throat. What the hell were they talking about? “I swear I don’t know anything,” I whispered desperately. “I don’t even know who Ravens is.” One of the men barked out a laugh. “Damn. She really clueless.” “Not our fucking problem,” another muttered. The gun pressed harder into my skin and my breathing immediately turned shaky again. “You hear that, Ravens?” the man said into the phone. “Fourteen hours before we paint the floor with her brains.”

He informed me as he held it out for me to take. I delicately took it from him when I saw how old and fragile it looked, with the binding of it covered in dust. I stared at the cover which was a dark blue, and an engraved Golding band around the edge with a sketch of a black wolf in the middle. Just above the wolf it said, ‘The sacred wolves of the night’. “Are there any books on the other breeds of wolves?”. I asked him curiously. “No, just that one, and if you give it a read, you’ll soon find out why”.

Although the promise together with his foster figure for his 20th birthday may want to now no longer be fulfilled, the bonds of grasp and servant had been engraved thus. Reaching out and bumping cups gently with Isabella, Raven raised his cup and savoured the high-quality violet-coloured wine. . . BOOK 1 Ends Here…. * * What do you think is gonna happen to Raven?? Is he still safe in the hands of his predators??? Find Out More in the BOOK 2 of the Vampire Harem Series. . . WATCH OUT for the Vampire Harem Series BOOK 2 Title:- RAVEN: A Rare Vampire . . …… THE END

I scoffed after reading his message. Sammy is literally afraid of the people he hasn't seen yet. I've seen them and I'm ready to keep pursuing to expose them. I know their dangerous. But they definitely have a weak spot don't they? I looked at the files carefully. A red line was use to rule over the name of the society. 'The darkling bird society.' I read the name out. Darkling bird? So that's what the black raven symbolizes. I always knew ravens had a dark heart.