Chapter 22 Raven
Raven
Istood with Vin at the edge of the woods, the air thick with the kind of tension that makes your skin prickle.
We locked eyes, a silent conversation passing between us, all the words we didn't need to say hanging in the charged space.
I felt it then, that familiar itch under my skin, the call of the wild that no leather jacket or clubhouse could tame.
With a nod that was more felt than seen, we let go of our human shells.
The shift was like shedding a too-tight skin, muscles stretching and snapping into place with an ease that belied the violence of bones realigning.
Fur sprouted where inked skin once was, and the world sharpened into an array of colors beyond the spectrum of human sight.
The primal energy ripped through me, a torrent of power and instinct colliding with the remnants of humanity I clung to by a thread.
As wolves, Vin and I hit the ground running, leaving behind the world of asphalt and engine oil for one of earth and instinct.
The forest floor gave way beneath our paws, cool dirt, and fallen leaves crunching softly with each stride.
The scents hit me like a freight train—pine needles, damp soil, the musty decay of logs returning to the earth, and somewhere, the telltale tang of prey.
We moved as one, two shadows slipping through the trees with the freedom that came from being untamed and utterly alive.
Each breath was a drink of wild fragrances, every sound a symphony played on leaves and wind.
The forest was alive around us, and so were we, predators guided by senses honed over millennia.
There was a rush in the unity, a sense of completeness that human words couldn't capture.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Vin's thought brushed against mine, rough and exhilarating.
"Like coming home," I replied without missing a beat, my voice a growl that rumbled deep in my chest. It was the truth.
Out here, with the earth beneath our feet and the vast sky above, we were nothing but what nature intended—beasts born to run, to hunt, to live hard and die free. And damn, did it feel good.
Vin padded around me as I stood still, only turning my head to watch him, his wolf eyes nothing like his human eyes. He sniffed my ass and I chuckled. “What are you doing, Vin?”
“Not an opportunity I can let go, Rave,” he said.
“Seriously?”
“I know you’re thinking the same thing.” He sniffed me again and I steadied my paws.
“Yeah, I am now.”
“Ready?” he asked.
“When have I not been ready?” I said.
Vin mounted me and his thick cock pushed inside me.
I howled. We both howled, two creatures of the woods doing what came naturally.
As Vin and I continued our passionate encounter, the forest seemed to pulse around us, mirroring the intensity of our primal desire.
The taste of each other filled our mouths, the scent of earth and musk blending with the tang of sweat and excitement.
Our bodies moved together effortlessly, each stroke pushing us deeper into the moment.
"You're so tight, Rave," Vin growled, driving himself deeper inside me. “Like you were made for me." His voice was raw with emotion, and his eyes burned with a heat that matched my own.
"You belong to me," I whispered raggedly between breaths. "Body and soul."
Vin's hips snapped forward in a sharp jerk, his cock hitting my sweet spot with punishing force. He groaned deeply, the sound echoing through the trees. "And you belong to me," he panted against my neck. Each thrust brought us closer to the edge, the rush of pleasure building with every motion.
Our pace quickened, the forest fading away as we lost ourselves in each other's touch.
The cool air rushed over our bodies, carrying with it the sounds of our ragged breathing and soft moans.
Sweat beaded on our skin, mingling with dirt and fur as we claimed what was ours in that moment—each other's bodies and hearts.
The world seemed to slow down as we reached our peak together.
Our movements grew more frenzied, fur brushing against fur in a flurry of sensation.
Time stopped completely as we surrendered to the animal within us; our human selves forgotten in the haze of desire and passion that consumed us both completely.
Finally, it was over too soon. With a cry that echoed through the trees, Vin released himself inside me with one final thrust that sent shockwaves coursing through both of us. We stood there for a moment, breathless and spent beneath the canopy of leaves overhead.
"I thought we'd never get outta these woods in one piece," Vin chuckled hoarsely as he nuzzled my neck affectionately before moving beside me.
“That was fucked up,” I said. “Can’t wait to do it again.”
Vin chuckled, the fur around his eye tightening as he winked. “Next time, I have a little surprise. Didn’t want to break you the first time.”
“Never, baby,” I said and froze. The wind shifted, slicing through the underbrush with a whisper that prickled the fur along my spine.
A scent snagged on the breeze—a ghost from a life I'd left behind.
I halted mid-stride, nostrils flaring, every fiber in me vibrating with recognition. It was him. My father.
"Raven?" Vin's voice intruded, his concern a low rumble in our silent communion.
"Father's scent," I snapped back, my wolf's voice taut with urgency.
The sound of his name alone was enough to jolt my heart into a gallop.
Gone were the lazy thoughts of freedom; this was personal.
Vin didn't ask questions; he never did. With a nod that barely rippled his grey fur, he fell in line behind me, his presence a steady force at my back.
We plunged deeper into the woods, our pace unrelenting, driven by the need to uncover why my past had suddenly invaded our present.
Tracking the scent became an obsession, each new gust pulling us closer to answers I wasn't sure I wanted.
But hell, the die was cast, and we were all in—no turning back, no second-guessing.
That's how we rolled—full throttle or not at all.
As we wove through the dense foliage, our movements mirrored each other—silent, lethal, attuned to the slightest shift in the air.
There was no need for words when your souls were entwined as deeply as ours.
His shadow danced with mine, a dark ballet choreographed by instinct and trust.
"Careful," I thought, feeling the tension coil within Vin. He was protective, always had been, but this was my fight, my past. He understood that, respected it even.
"Always," he replied, the edge of his mind razor-sharp against mine.
We pushed forward, the scent growing stronger and thicker until it hung around us like a tangible shroud.
Each breath I drew was laced with memories—cold marble floors, whispered political schemes, and the suffocating weight of expectations.
I'd traded those for leather and steel, for the roar of engines and the embrace of the night.
And yet here I was, chasing ghosts through the forest, with Vin at my side—my ally in chaos, my partner in the dance of danger.
"Whatever comes," I vowed silently, "we face it together."
"Until the end," he agreed, his conviction a silent roar that echoed through the woods.
The trees thinned out, and there it was—a cabin along the river, as if the forest had coughed it up. It sat there, hunkered down among ancient pines like a secret too dark to tell.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath, my wolf eyes catching the glint of metal.
Men moved like shadows around the cabin, their bodies tense, rifles cradled like lover's limbs.
This wasn't some weekend getaway—it was a fortress, hidden away from prying eyes, stashed here in nature's blind spot. Vin’s presence at my side was a silent storm.
We both knew the drill—observe, assess, plan.
But this? This was off-the-charts messed up.
My father's scent had led us here. What game was he playing at?
We paused, our four-legged forms crouched in the brush, silver moonlight filtering through the canopy above. Vin's ears twitched toward me, waiting for that unspoken signal we'd come to rely on—a subtle shift in stance, a quiet growl barely escaping my throat.
"Looks like Daddy dearest has made some dangerous friends," I thought, knowing Vin would catch every nuance of my concern without a single spoken word. His low snarl was agreement enough.
"More than friends looks like an army," Vin countered silently, his gaze sweeping over the armed guards with tactical precision. "We go in now, we're dog chow."
"Then we don't go in—not yet." My response was a growl laced with frustration. To barrel forward was suicide, but to retreat felt like cowardice.
"Back to two legs, then, make a plan?" he suggested, the idea already forming in my mind before he finished the thought.
"Two legs. Plan. And soon," I confirmed, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. This was more than just another run-in with trouble; it was personal, and it cut deeper than any knife ever could.
"Your call, Raven," Vin assured me, and I knew he meant it. He was with me, come hell or high water, and that kind of loyalty you couldn't buy—it was earned, mile by bloody mile.
"Let's circle back, see what else we can find before we crash this fucked-up party," I decided.
"Lead on," he obliged, and together we turned, slipping back into the darkness of the woods. Every instinct screamed to charge in, to confront the heart of the mystery head-on, but the chill in my bones told me patience would be our salvation—or our doom.
The scent of danger was a tang on the tip of my tongue as we retreated into the forest's embrace. Vin and I moved in sync, our paws pounding against the dirt with the urgency of a ticking bomb.
"Got a bad feeling about this," I heard Vin's voice in my head—a growl wrapped in concern that didn't need a human tongue to be understood.
"Me too," I admitted, my thoughts a silent snarl as I led the way deeper into the woods, branches whipping past, leaving thin red lines on our fur that stung less than the thought of what awaited us.
We were hunters by nature, but even predators knew when to bide their time, wait for the dark to turn in their favor.
As the familiar clearing came into view, my heart pounded harder than my feet on the forest floor.
It was showtime. With a last glance at Vin, a silent nod passed between us, and the world blurred around the edges as we shifted.
Skin prickled and bones ached in that sweet agony of changing form, fur receding into flesh, until two humans stood where wolves once were.
We stepped out of the trees, barefoot and as ready as we'd ever be, the moonlight illuminating the hard-set lines of determination on our faces.
"Meeting," Vin barked out, his voice a serrated knife cutting through the thick air of cigarette smoke and liquor.
Heads snapped up, attention honed in on us as if pulled by invisible strings.
The crew knew that tone, the one that meant shit was about to get real, and they filed into the main room with the kind of efficiency born from too many close calls.
Several old ladies parked their asses at the bar.
I joined them but kept my ears pinned to the conversation at hand.
I watched them settle, a pack ready for the hunt, their faces etched with lines of lives lived hard and fast. Vin's presence filled the room, the leader, the eye of the storm we were all willingly caught in.
And when he spoke, it was like thunder rolling over the desert plains, demanding to be heard.
"We found a cabin. Guarded. Deep in the woods." His words were precise, like bullets loaded with the gravity of our discovery. "Raven's old man is there."
I stepped forward, feeling their eyes shift to me.
My place beside Vin wasn't just given; it was earned, and the respect that came with it could silence a room quicker than a shotgun blast. "We've got a narrow window to act," I said, my voice slicing through the tension.
"We need to hit them hard and fast before they see us coming.
" Nods met my words, the silent language of warriors ready to back my play.
I scanned the faces, every pair of eyes telling a story of loyalty, and something more—faith.
In Vin, in me, in the road, we were about to burn down.
We spent the next hour planning, talking with Jameson, and talking with other chapters.
My history with Vin taught me that when something went down with one chapter of an MC, every MC was affected.
Once we were satisfied with a plan, Vin and I stepped out of the clubhouse, and for a moment, I let the chaos behind us fade into the background.
The sun was sinking low, its last rays throwing long shadows across the gravel like fingers reaching out to drag the day into night.
Vin's hand pressed against the small of my back—solid, reassuring.
"Look at that," I said, nodding toward the horizon where the sky burned with a fire that matched the one in our veins. It was beautiful, in a savage kind of way, mirroring the storm brewing within us.
"Looks like the world's about to end," Vin replied, his voice rough, the way I liked it. I watched him as he watched the horizon. Beneath that rough exterior and rough voice, beneath the man who looked like he could crush another man’s skull, was a special human being.
He cared deeply for others. Even more so for me and the club.
When he wanted, his touch could be like the stroke of a feather, his lips satin against whichever of my body parts he placed them against. In essence, we were made for each other as if we were cut from the same cloth.
"It could be an omen," I mused. I leaned against his shoulder, and he moved his arm around me, shedding the world around us. I knew too many women who had never felt protected by their significant others. This was not my case. In his arms, the world belonged to us.
"Or a promise." Vin's reply was terse, but the corner of his mouth twitched up in a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Let's just hope it's not our sunset," I quipped, even though the thought had already crossed my mind. We were walking into the lion's den, and there was no guarantee we'd all walk back out.
He turned and wrapped his arms around me, his lips on mine, his large hands dropping to my ass. He chuckled. “Guess we gave new meaning to doggie style.”
With both of us laughing, we went back inside to prepare for the showdown. Live or die, we were going to do it our way.