35. Ryan
35
Ryan
“I would say the normal amount,” I respond hesitantly. “Female warrior spirits responsible for identifying the most worthy of the slain to head to Valhalla.”
She hums, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. “Yeah, that’s part of it.”
Whatever she has to tell me, I can see the stress it’s putting her under. Her body is rigid in my lap. I smooth my hand down her spine, trying to ease some of the tension that ails her.
She spins in my lap, giving me her back. “Take off my shirt, Ryan.”
My heart stops.
I’m breathing manually, having to force the breaths in and out. My cock swells rapidly at the thought of her bare before me, and I do my best to angle it away from her, but there is no doubt she feels it.
She’s kind enough not to acknowledge it.
“You… why?” My voice is thick, and my fingers trace the bottom of her shirt without conscious effort.
“I need to show you something.” I must move too slowly because she grabs the hem and pulls it over her head. She unsnaps the back of her bra and bends forward slightly, leaving me an unobstructed view of the smooth skin of her back.
Down her spine are a series of five geometrical tattoos, all in black except for the one in the middle, which is green. My gaze lingers on the second symbol, and my hand is immediately drawn to it.
I trace my hand down the lines, my mouth going dry. A large, double-lined triangle, with a small circle on the top and several lines and smaller triangles edging it, sits between her shoulder blades. But it’s what’s within the triangle that has my heart stuttering.
A single, large eye.
“What’s this?” I ask quietly, tracing its curves.
“I’ve drawn these symbols for what feels like my whole life. They’ve been in my head for as long as I can remember. I’d scrawl them on notebooks and see them flash in my dreams. When I turned eighteen, I got them tattooed on me. It wasn’t even a conscious decision. I just knew I needed them.”
She doesn’t look at me as she speaks, and I continue my ministrations, tracing every line of the strange triangular symbol.
“Michael, Professor Jessup, gave me a book about how the Valkyrie of old all had a Raven with them. The Raven and the Valkyrie worked together on the battlefield as a symbiotic pair.”
“I think I read about that.” I wrack my brain to where I saw it mentioned. “That the Raven would be almost like a servant of the Valkyrie.”
“A Valkyrie needs her Raven,” she whispers, “or so the book said. The book also said it’s not a bird. The Raven is a name for a group of spirits bonded to the Valkyrie.” Her voice drops even more, and I lean forward, my chest pressing against her back, to hear the next words. “Her lovers.”
My whole body stiffens. “Lovers? As in multiple?”
“The book he found suggests that the Raven is comprised of several spirits, all of whom bring a different skill set to assist their Valkyrie.” She wiggles uncomfortably, and I lean back, forgetting how much pressure my weight would’ve been on her back. “Long story short, Ryan, I have confirmed that the book was correct.”
My mouth dries up. “How did you do that?”
“The tattoo in the middle there?” My finger traces the green, exceedingly complex symbol in the center of her spine. “It used to be black.”
“What?”
I’ve lost all my eloquence. This is all a lot of information, and I don’t know how to process it. This certainly isn’t what I expected when I entered her room tonight.
“Tonight, that symbol changed from black to green and appeared on Michael’s chest.”
I take a beat to process.
She’s patient and doesn’t speak as my mind tries to wrap around her words.
“Are you saying Professor Jessup is a member of this Raven?”
Is she saying he’s her lover?
Jealousy fires up in me.
But the symbol. The eye…
Could that be me?
“Yes,” she says quietly. “And I think you may be, too.”
“The eye.” It’s a little obvious, but there is no denying that it could very well represent me. “You think that’s me?”
“I do. The Raven is said to be many things for the Valkyrie. A bringer of ill omen, a bearer of knowledge, a shapeshifter, a trickster, and a carer of lost souls.”
Which of those could possibly be me? The professor is a shifter. Clay is likely the carer of lost souls, being a Reaper.
“Am I the bringer of ill omen?” Why does it hurt to think that she may think I am bad luck?
She spins around, and I fight hard not to look at her peaked nipples. The curve of her breast.
“No, I don’t think so. I believe you are the bearer of knowledge. You’re one of the smartest spirits I know.”
While I appreciate her words and know I am not stupid, a Cyclops couldn’t possible be a representation of knowledge. A thread of insecurity weaves through me.
It can’t be me.
I can’t be a part of her Raven.
And it has nothing to do with the prospect of sharing her with other males. Clay and I discussed it, and I’ve come to accept that as a reality. Besides, he’s my best friend. I trust him with Stella.
But if one of her Ravens is Professor Jessup, that gives me pause. He’s a simplynatural. Sure, he’s different from the others, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s working for the institution we’re trying to topple.
Can we ever fully trust him?
I am sure that Stella does, and I need to defer to her, but I do not know if I can trust him with her. She is precious to me, a gemstone among boulders, and I don’t know what I’d do if anything were to happen to her.
But who am I? I am nothing when it comes to her.
No, I do not think this symbol represents me, despite how obvious it seems. The eye could be symbolic.
“I don’t think I’m a part of this, Stella,” I tell her quietly. “It’s someone else.”
Hurt drips down her face, pulling the corners of her lips towards the floor. She crosses her arms over her bare chest protectively. “You… I thought you wanted me?”
“Of course I want you! But it’s clear you are meant for great things. You need a Raven that can support you and grow you through it. You need strong males… or females. I just realized I don’t know if you’re interested in females.”
“I’m not. I tried.”
“Oh. Well, regardless, I don’t think I am worthy of this. I have nothing to bring you, nothing to offer you.”
“And you believe you know that more than Fate?” There is a sharp bite to her voice that sets me on edge.
“Fate?”
“What else could it be that sent these symbols to me? If one of them is you, that is Fate, is it not? And you will spit in her face and deny this connection between us?” Anger now trembles at the edge of her voice, and I want to soothe it.
I can’t stand the idea that she is angry with me.
“When we kissed, I felt connected to you,” she says as she grabs my face. “Like a link of chain ran between us. Unbreakable. Unyielding. I don’t know what it means, but I know it must be something.”
Kissing her has felt like coming home. Relaxing into her touch is a luxury that I am undeserving of.
“I feel it, too,” I whisper. “But what does this change between us?”
She shrugs, finally reaching around me to grab her shirt and pull it back on. Momentarily, she pulls her wings in before settling them loosely around her body. I mourn the loss of her skin as much as I am grateful for the reprieve.
My cock is so hard it was getting painful.
“I don’t know,” she replies, sliding off my lap to sit beside me. “I don’t even know how Michael activated it. It changed color and then branded itself on his chest.”
“What were you doing when it happened?”
A red flush travels up to her hairline, and she can’t make eye contact with me. There’s only one thing that could mean.
“Oh.”
She buries her face in her hands. “We were intimate. We didn’t fuck, but we got close. And then afterward, he made sure I knew he was happy to be a part of the Raven.”
“Are you saying we need to..”
“No! Well, not unless you want to. Or are ready to. I’m not looking to rush this.” She places her small, calloused hand on top of mine. “I’m not saying I know what’s going on. I’m overwhelmed, scared, and honestly straight-up confused about this whole thing. But after seeing what happened to Sia, I know something big is coming, and if Fate has decided to give me a Raven to handle it, I have to be willing to accept her gift. But I won’t force you to be a part of this.”
A part of this.
Of something bigger than me.
What are the odds that I am here at the same time as Stella, as Clay, as Professor Jessup? It certainly feels like an intervention of Fate if the three of us are intended to be part of her Raven. Which if I am, I am certain Clay will be, too.
Who am I to pretend I know more than Fate? That I am smarter than her?
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay?” she echoes.
“Yeah, okay. If that symbol is me, then I would be honored to be a part of your Raven.” I cup her face and bend down to place a soft kiss on her pouty lips. “But I should tell you… I’m a virgin.” My face heats, and I duck away, looking anywhere but at her.
She runs a hand along the back of my neck, eventually gripping it tightly turning me to face her. “I know. There’s no rush right now. Nothing tells me we have to cement your place in the Raven right now. I’m happy just to know you’re okay with this.”
I kick off my shoes and scoot back on her bed, resting against the headboard before I pull her up with me and rest her on my chest. “How could I not be happy to know that you have picked me to be a part of you?”
“Well, when you put it like that,” she chuckles. As she settles onto my chest, her body growing heavy with exhaustion, she yawns and looks up at me. “Tell me something. Anything about you.”
I smile and stroke a hand down her hair before launching into a story about the first time I went to a library when I moved to Rigent.
It doesn’t take long before she drifts off to sleep.