Novel & Cerita Raven 8

The car stops in front of a house where a man and a woman—middle-aged—walk out to greet me. I step out. “Good afternoon.” I offer a small bow. “Roland, how are you?” the woman speaks first. “I’m Rachel, Diana’s mother.” She opens her arms for a hug. I do not care for hugs. Or people. I never have. “Sorry,” I say flatly. “I’m not a hugger.” Her arms fall back to her sides, smile stiff. The man steps in. “Dylan, Diana’s father.” He offers his hand. I accept it.

She held on to Ivan’s scarf and shut her eyes. Through his eyes she could make out two big burly men at the table. They were on each side of Ivan. They each had half filled cups of what was probably rum. They were playing cards. She was drawn out of her reverie by the calls of what was unmistakably ravens, she looked up at the sky. They were a few of them hovering above her head.

“Raven who? Man, she's bold, picking a fight at a Madrigal family's party. They're all getting tossed out for sure." “You don't know Raven? She's the one who took gold at nationals, both a shooting champion and a race car driver. Didn't think she'd show up here. Looks even better in person, honestly." “What about the one in pink? Never seen her before, and that outfit's straight out of a vintage catalog."

I greet as I open the door. “Wolf Girl, it’s good to see you, “ he greets back. “This is my bodyguard and best friend, Rafe.” Dorian introduces the man behind him. He’s tall, bulky with muscles, and short hair light brown hair with hazel eyes. He wears an all black suit like uniform.

He stands up from his desk to tell us to leave, but before he can say or do anything, Allistar brings up a good point. "Should we be concerned about Raven shifting tonight? She has been in 2 comas these last couple weaks and she recently took a serious blow to the head. The silver from the first attack is now just getting out of her system. Is she in danger by shifting with us tonight?" He sounds really concerned, but also hopeful that it'll all work out.

Prairie Rose was nothing more than another responsibility. The men he traveled with under the cloak of night couldn’t be mistaken for anything less than thugs, which was why they stuck to the cover of darkness. They’d draw unwanted attention to themselves otherwise. The suburban had three rows of seating. Ireland was currently driving, and though he was still not more than a pup in his twenties, he was one of the best trackers they’d ever produced. Their pack had been raided and participated in raids for centuries. Vengeance was something his wolves understood. It was fed to them as babies and spooned into their mouths all their lives.

He spoke quietly. It seemed that, unlike Arden, he knew how to keep his anger on a leash. Yet my heart raced wildly against my chest because of what I heard. If this involved my mother and me, did that mean these people had a hidden motive? or Mr. Ravenchi?

"I'm on the summit of Mount Cashmoore." Her face twisted in disbelief. "That's impossible! Without Snowviper, you'd have died from the heat on the way!" I smiled. "Guess I forgot to mention—Blazewing flies faster than a rocket. So really, I should be thanking you for handing him over to me." I ended the call and watched her through the bronze mirror. Raven was furious, throwing things across the room. Snowviper came out to see what was going on. Raven ran at him and started hitting and kicking, even slapping him across the face when he wasn't expecting it.

He yelled, banging his hand on my table. "You tell me why I shouldn't be calm. Because obviously, I shouldn't be when you're the one who barged into my office for unknown reason" I asked. Raven was flapping its wings against her cage, and also sending a series of images to my head. It was all that of her plucking out Igor's eyes or scratching the hell out of his chest till it gets to his heart. Raven can be scary and honestly, she scares me sometimes. "If you dare try to deny killing my sons, I could fuck you up right now" He yelled.

“The mailroom’s downstairs, if…” “I’m looking for…” The delivery man checked the tablet balanced on top of the unmarked white box. “…a Raven Cannon. Is anyone by that name here? I need a signature.” Raven rose shakily, trying to steady herself with her hands against her desktop. Quickly, she slipped the folder into a desk drawer and locked it, closing the tiny key in her fist like a talisman. Then she let it fall into her pocket and stepped out into the common space. “I’m here,” she said, trying to be brave.