Raven Without Hood Novels & Stories

tall figure, all four of them hold those two injured men’s from their both hands, it was dark outside but there were many street light which were giving me clear view of that tall figure who stood above them, he was around 6’feet tall, with broad and muscular shoulder, I can clearly tell that by looking at muscles that were popping out of his short sleeve black cotton fitted shirt, his caramel tanned skin was complimenting his shirt color, he had shoulder length dark brownish black hairs which were loosely gelled, from side I could see he had a very sharp jaw line with thick beard and moustache, he was wearing deep blue colored denim and a Mojdi beneath that (Traditional Indian foot wear) j

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.

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.

I try to peer through the curtains, but it just looks like every other bit of rocky land we’ve passed through since leaving for the border of Escuro. ‘What is it?’ I ask. ‘It looks like the Haze.’ My stomach drops. That’s not possible. I just turned twenty-one a couple of weeks ago. I figured the dream was… I don’t know, an early warning. There was no sign of the Haze rolling in. ‘That should make things more exciting,’ Raven says tiredly. She really shouldn’t be out here in the first place. She’s almost seven months pregnant, and sure, the nausea has stopped, but she’s as big as a boulder and just as slow. But of course, she refused to wait when she had the ability to help her people.

First of all, she wasn't even on the floor and then all the bottled that were on the floor were shattered into pieces so yes, there were several shards of broken glass everywhere. My breath hitched. It felt like I could almost sense what was coming. Raven, weapons and guards didn't quite mix tell. I took a cautious step forward, my eyes scanning the room. The air was thick with the scent of blood, sweat, and something else, something dangerous. One of the guards, a burly man named Joran, stepped ahead of me, peering around. “She couldn’t have gotten far,” he muttered. But I knew better. Raven was unlike anyone else. If there was a way out, she would find it. If there wasn’t, she would carve

Raven placed the wide-brimmed hat on Gia’s head, lowering its brim to shield her face from view. “We’re going incognito,” Raven replied with a wide grin.

The headlights cut through the dark. Raven looked back at the cabin. The door was wide open. And standing in the doorway was a figure. A dark hood. A shadowed face. Watching. Raven's heart stopped. The figure raised their hand. Slow. Deliberate. Taunting. They waved.

Guns. The raven purge has begun.

“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.”

“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.”