Court Of Ravens And Ruin นิยาย & เรื่องราว

His gavel slammed the podium so hard it sounded like a death sentence. “Sold! Lot 17, Vivienne Moreau to the Shadowcrest Pack. Ten million.” The guards swarmed me fast, rough hands on my arms, chains jangling, yanking me toward the backstage. I locked eyes with each brother as I was dragged away, forcing myself to meet their gazes and promise violence with every glance. The moment stretched, snapped tight and in my head, I cussed, every language I knew, every vicious insult I could think of. Ivy surged up, weak and howling, not in fear but in warning. What I felt wasn’t a mate bond, it was worse, it was raw, wild, and unnameable. The sense that these four weren’t just trouble. They were doom

Once within reach, she extends her claws and digs them deep into his ribs. "Bitch!" Dagon cries out in pain, as blood dribbles down his chin. "I have a very special place in the soul realm for you, you will not move on, nor will you ever see the light of day again. You will re-live your crimes again and again, as the victim. You will beg for mercy every day, and receive none," Raven declares as she digs her hands deeper, ripping apart Dagon's chest.

The Raven lifted its head and let out a clear cry, its sound ringing like a Heaven's Bell, causing layers of malevolent energy around it to collapse. It forcefully drew its wings together, then spread them wide again. Countless wind blades condensed from Heaven's Force poured forth like a torrential rain, each blade incomparably sharp, forcibly slicing the devastating pillar into countless fragments. Magma and malevolent energy splashed everywhere, yet none touched even a single feather of the Raven. Instead, they were instantly erased when illuminated by the golden light surrounding it.

Chapter 25: The Finer Threads Raven’s training sessions settled into a quiet, relentless rhythm beneath Castle Valros. Every morning after dawn—when the sun was still too weak to burn through the heavy curtains—they descended to the obsidian chamber. No audience. No guards. Just the two of them, the floating violet orbs, the *Greater Veil* tome, and a shallow silver bowl that always waited on the low table, half-filled with the same dark mixture of blood, grave-soil, and nightshade essence.

I stood in the ruins of a battlefield—bodies of fallen wolves scattered around her. At the center, Raven stood, smirking. "This is what your unity brings," he taunted. "Death. Betrayal. Failure." I clenched her fists. "This isn’t real." Raven stepped closer, his voice soft, cruel. "Isn’t it? How many will die because of your foolish dream?" The bodies of my fallen warriors stared at me with lifeless eyes. A cold weight settled in her chest. What if he was right? What if she was leading them to ruin?

“Pick wrong, and maybe you’ll walk in circles for eternity. Or fall into a memory. Or wake up someone else.” Cayla’s lungs burned as her innards rattled and blood boiled from within. The poison was patient, almost gentle. It didn’t kill—it wore her down. Making it harder to concentrate. *** **Somewhere in the Mist — Raven** Raven’s eyes burned as she stumbled forward. The air was thick, pressing against her like invisible hands. Every ragged breath tasted of rust and rot. She tried to draw her sword, but it wasn’t there. “Hello?” She rasped.

Her wolves howled in approval, the sound shaking the walls. Marius paled, but Raven’s eyes burned into him, unblinking. She wanted him to know she already suspected. As the elders withdrew, the storm outside broke against the castle walls, thunder rolling like the promise of war. Raven knelt beside Ragnar again, brushing damp hair from his forehead. His eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion pulling him under. She whispered into the storm, a vow only he could hear. “They’ll try to take you from me again. But I’ll burn kingdoms before I let them.”

Raven tilted her head like she was listening to something none of us could hear. “Under everything,” she said. “Still trying to reconnect. Still waiting for me.” Marek’s expression tightened. “That’s not what it was,” he said carefully. Raven looked at him and this time there was no confusion in her eyes. “It is,” she said quietly. “It’s not a god. It’s not fate.” Her hand lifted slightly and silver fire gathered without hesitation. “It’s a containment system that turned into a parasite after the kingdom broke it by accident and kept feeding it fear for centuries.”