Velvet Rwby Novels & Stories

Rowan’s POV My eyes didn't leave the silhouette stumbling through the rain toward me. I leaned against the matte-black hood of my SUV, the cold drizzle soaking into my tactical shirt, but I didn't feel the chill. I felt her. Veda Bennett was a flicker of dying light in the middle of a graveyard, her white dress stained, her hair plastered to her cheeks. She should have been halfway to the High-Rise by now. I’d given her the exit. I’d given her the escape. Instead, the stubborn little fool had gone back inside to face the wolves who had just finished tearing her heart out.

Celeste’s fingers trembled as she clutched the small bouquet of wildflowers Kaelan had given her earlier. The pale blue petals with silver edges were already starting to wilt at the tips, but she couldn’t bring herself to set them down. They sat on the small table beside her bed like a fragile reminder that the ruthless Alpha of Ravencrest had done something unexpectedly gentle.

when you weren't allowed to leave. ​I shifted, the midnight-blue velvet robe heavy on my limbs. The fabric was soft—impossibly soft—but every time it brushed against my skin, I was reminded of the way Xavier had looked at me when he draped the blanket over my shoulders. Like I was a masterpiece he had finally finished stealing. ​Velvet.

Even from here, she could smell their sweet, fragrant scent. She turned back to Rave. “It’s a bed! Hanging from the trees! I don’t believe it.” Rave grinned. “That is not just any bed, my love. It’s a bed of the Tylwyth Teg—an invitation to take part in a piece of Azure.” He walked toward her. “The bed itself is a minor otherworld dimension within Azure. It softens all other magic—including volkaane fire.” As they approached the bed, it slowly lowered to the ground. Rave circled his arms around Leesa’s waist from behind. She leaned into him and he softly kissed the back of her neck.

The dusk-blue velvet was the colour of the western horizon at the small last hour before night, and it fell from her thin shoulders in a long careful soft line, and the cut at the throat was high and round and modest and was edged with a small careful line of pale silver thread that did not catch the eye but caught the soft autumn afternoon light from the tall windows in a way that made the velvet look very faintly as if it were lit from the inside. Ysolde brushed Elowen's dark hair until it shone the way it had shone in the small chamber at Vayne Hold when she had been a girl, and Ysolde pinned it back loosely with two small carved silver combs that had been in a small velvet box in the bot

They walked freely, proudly, adorned in robes spun from gold threads and moonlight. Their hair wasn’t simply dyed, it glowed in soft magical shades: lavender, cerulean, pastel pink. Some had flowers growing from their braids, others wore feathers that changed colors with their emotions. They moved through the land in peace, unaffected by the chaos that plagued the outside world. Velmora was more than a place. It was a sanctuary, a song sung in color and light. My breath caught in my throat. We didn't linger in our awe for too long. Zevarion gently guided me toward one of the villagers, a tall werewolf with a halo of white curls.

Raised them to his lips. And licked them clean. “You just made this more fun.” Caelum glared, chest rising and falling like a dying star. “No,” he rasped. Velis’s smile was a blade unsheathed. He leaned in, his breath all heat and sin, and whispered against Caelum’s ear— “That was the wrong safeword.”

Another voice: “Then why do the roots bleed?” Stares turned on me— Not pity. Not reverence. Doubt. I reached for Kade’s arm. Desperate. He flung me off. And when his eyes met mine— They weren’t Kade’s anymore. They glowed—broken violet, heavy with rage and loss. Ryven was fully awake. Claws split flesh. Bones cracked. Teeth tore through the gum. His scream shattered ceremonial glass. And then he collapsed. The priest rushed to him.

* Raven couldn’t hear it, but she felt it in the vibration of Victoria’s back, in the way the princess leaned into her embrace for one heartbeat before charging forward again. The hell-beast roared—louder, angrier. Raven’s vision narrowed. The cold place inside her burned bright—stronger than ever. She whispered the final command—soundless, but sharp as a blade: *End it.* Her thralls surged. And the Widow’s Veil became a graveyard that fought back. Raven clung tighter to Victoria. Whatever waited on the other side of that rift… They would close it. Together.