Raven Without Hood Novels & Stories

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.”

The brothers were laughing, shouting over the engines, and strapping their bags onto the backs of their seats. Raven was already sitting proudly on the back of Jax's motorcycle near the front of the line, her long dark hair flowing out from under her helmet and her arms crossed confidently over her chest. She looked over at the porch and caught sight of me, her eyes narrowing into a cold stare as she saw the property patch on my back. But I didn't look away this time. I stood my ground, keeping my chin high.

I pause a half-breath, then knock. Raven answers with her hair in a haphazard braid, still damp from a shower. She’s wearing a faded t-shirt that once belonged to Jax, the old pack insignia almost indecipherable from repeated washes. She lifts one eyebrow, a quick, surgical appraisal. “Did you come to get me for training today?” she asks. No preamble, no hospitality, but I sense her awareness—she’s already clocked the intensity of my presence. “No,” I say, “but may I come in? There’s something I want to discuss.”

I said, hurrying to the bed to get my shirt before we hurried outside together. Outside, Raven stood beside her bike, her back turned against us. Her black leathered clothes clung to her skin, shimmering. Sunny tapped me quickly and whispered. “ Ghost's in a bad mood today. Don't trigger it” I nodded, fixing my attention on Raven who stood leg akimbo. I wondered why she was in a bad mood. It can't be about yesterday right? But Raven didn't act like someone who was mad. What happened to her overnight?

"I'm not leaving there without you, Raven. Whatever it takes." The absolute conviction in his voice sent both comfort and terror through her. She knew he meant every word—if this plan failed, he would burn the world down trying to save her. As evening approached, Raven found herself in the clubhouse bathroom, staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror. She'd chosen her outfit carefully—a black dress that was elegant enough for Venom's party but practical enough to fight in if necessary. The knife strapped to her thigh was hidden by the fabric, and the small communication device Ghost had given her was concealed in her jewelry.

Pride versus patience. I lose. With a huff, I get in. He slides in beside me. “Benn y’s place, Dave.” The driver nods and starts the engine. “Where are we going?” I ask. Roland doesn’t look at me. “You’ll see.”