Dc Raven Artwork Novels & Stories

“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.

After the mounting was completed and rolled into a scroll, Vera sealed the scroll with a silk ribbon. Mr. Raven’s voice sounded outside the door as he said, “Miss, can I come in?” Vera said loudly, “Come in.” Mr. Raven, who was already slightly hunched, staggered in. When he saw that the landscape painting on the desk had already been turned into a scroll, he quickly said, “Congratulations on the completion of your masterpiece, Miss!” Vera said calmly, “It can’t be said to be a masterpiece.” After saying that, she asked him, “By the way, why are you looking for me, Mr. Raven?”

Some are of children being born, and others are of war and death, but the artist did a beautiful job. The windows are very colorful. Some were purple, red, blue, and clear. The way the sun shines on them makes a rainbow effect all over the floors. There is a statue of a raven sitting behind the priest. It stands about ten feet tall and eight feet wide. It looks very menacing. Much like how the priest is currently staring at my father, with his lips curled into a snarl. "So, Wizard Dennis, you refuse to be of service to us?"His gravelly voice snaps my attention over to him.

The light pulsated, synchronous with her heartbeat, and it seemed almost as if the crystal tried, to eat in their skin. “Let him go,” said Raven cold, raising his blade while he was out of the shadow entered. The woman turned her head. Your eyes that once had a normal color had to, had now passed through the same creepy carmesin red. You smiled, and it was a smile that allowed Raven to freeze the blood in the veins. It was not insane – it was completely, terrifyingly clear.

The prince of the rouges growled. Drake was panting, gasping for air. He closes his eyes, feeling the presence of the beating heart. As he opened his eyes, it was blood red. He wore the devil's eye. It was cold, dark, mysterious, and dangerous. The prince of the rouges steps backward, trembling. He didn't try to struggle off the chain; he just wore his dangerous lopsided grin.

I shrugged, knitting my eyebrows, unsure if I wanted to use them today. It was Ariana’s idea to place my art supplies whenever I went on a business trip, hoping I would paint or draw again. Dante would make sure he placed the bag in the trunk, just in case I asked for it. He nodded, not asking many questions, but his lips curled into a smile as he made a U-turn, returning to the car to get my bag.

I went to check on the twins. They were in a playroom. Surrounded by toys. Drawing with crayons. Raven ran up to me. “Mama! We drew pictures!” She held up a piece of paper. Four stick figures. Labels written in crayon above each one. “Mama, Raven, Ryker, and…” I squinted at the fourth name. The letters swam before my eyes. Blurred together. I couldn’t read them. “Who’s that?” I asked, pointing at the fourth figure.

I shot back, and he glared at me. “Whatever.” With that, he strode off. My fingers curled into a fist at the sound of the door slamming shut. Even though I knew this wasn't my business, I knew my father too well. If he gave someone something like that, there was definitely a deeper meaning attached to it. Ravenchi will never give anything for free. I looked down at myself. My cock had already softened. Tsk! Colt. Such a cum blocker.

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."

Jax I hadn’t been able to top Raven’s birthday gift to me for her. But she seemed quite happy with the locket I gave her. On the outside, I had a raven engraved on it. I had managed to find an old picture of Ansel and Callie shortly after we both got our wolves. It took a few tries, but I managed to get the photo scaled down to a size that would fit on one side, and on the other was a picture of us.