Chapter 13 Raven #2
He paused, eyes on the horizon. "I hadn't played in years. Not until I saw you at Cover Girls. You got stuck in my head, and suddenly music made sense again." Mynx smiled at him, wrapping a blanket around her shoulder and settling back to listen.
He glanced at her, voice softer now. "So, I learned this song. Didn't know if you'd ever hear it. But you were on my mind so much, it just felt right to put it somewhere."
He gave her a crooked smile. "If it's not perfect… bear with me."
The first few notes came out shaky. Raven winced, laughed it off, and started again.
This time, the intro to "Yellow" by Coldplay came through—fragile, but honest. Every note said what he hadn't figured out how to—that he saw her—and everything that made her who she was: the fire, the beauty, the dedication she had to her family.
When he finished playing, Raven looked at her and saw the tears in her eyes—quiet, unspoken, but real.
He knew she understood him. Not everything.
But enough. Enough to shift something in him.
She mattered. If not to the rest of the world, then to him.
And in that moment, he decided. He would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
Claim her. Marry her. Pay off her debt. Whatever it took.
She was the woman for him, and he wasn't about to let her slip through his fingers.
The music faded, but the feeling lingered. They didn't say much after that—didn't need to.
Eventually, the night folded in around them. Stars overhead. Her head on his shoulder. His fingers were still tingling from the strings.
And somewhere between the last note and the first light, Raven made peace with the choice he'd already made.
***
By morning, the air had shifted. The world was softer and brighter. Held the kind of calm that came after something real. Raven woke early, the guitar still beside him, and Mynx curled close like she'd always belonged there.
Today was different. Raven could feel it.
He had to head back this afternoon, but not yet.
First, they needed to eat. Sit in the daylight.
Let things settle. Let the night's honesty stretch into morning and see how it holds up.
After they'd both had a chance to breathe, to move around in it a little, and see how it felt not just in the dark, but in the real world.
"Butterfly," he said as he nuzzled her face, trying to wake her gently. "Time to wake up."
"Mm, I was having the most wonderful dream." Mynx rolled towards him, tucking the blanket under her chin. "It's cold."
"It's always a little cooler on the beach when the wind picks up. Let's get you inside. Was I in the dream?"
"You were, and so was my family. Even my dad. Everything was—perfect." She smiled.
"You wanna tell me about it?"
"Maybe, but first I need you to feed me. I'm starving."
Raven laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "Alright, food first. Dream later."
He stood, stretching the stiffness from his back, then reached down to help her to her feet.
The blanket slipped off her shoulders as she rose, and he wrapped it around her again without thinking.
The sun was climbing, casting long shadows across the sand, and the breeze carried that salty bite that made mornings on the beach feel sharper than they looked.
They walked toward the house, barefoot and quiet, the kind of silence that didn't need filling. Raven glanced at her as she tucked herself into the blanket like armor, and he felt that same pull from the night before—steady, certain.
"How do you feel about Italian food?" Raven asked as they stepped into the house.
"It's one of my favorites," Mynx said. "Second only to sushi. Why, what do you have in mind?"
"Eek, raw fish. Not me." He made a face. "Go get dressed, meet me back here when you're ready. I'd love to take you to one of my favorite spots when I'm in town—Fellini's. They've got this mushroom and sausage tortellini that's borderline life-changing."
"Okay, sounds amazing. Meet you back here in like an hour?"
"Sounds good. It's a date. Our second date, to be exact." He winked, and she smiled—soft, easy, the kind that lingered even after she turned into her room.
In his room, Raven went straight to his phone. He needed to talk to Shelby.
"Hey, how are things going?" Shelby's voice was soft, familiar.
"Really good," Raven said. "Better than I thought, actually." He paused. "I called to ask if you could do me a favor."
"Anything. What do you need?"
"Can you call James at Arka Jewelry? See if he has time to create a piece for me by tomorrow."
"Oh," she said, her tone shifting. "It went really well then. What kind of jewelry are we talking about?"
Raven hesitated, then smiled to himself. "A choker. I want to claim her. Something with a raven motif, black diamonds on the collar. Beautiful. Tasteful."
Shelby was quiet for a beat. "You're serious about her."
"I am," he said. "More than I expected to be."
"I'm happy for you, Raven. Honestly, I wasn't sure the right girl was in the cards for you. But you know your father's not going to be thrilled."
"I'm aware. I'll deal with that later. For now, I want to protect what's mine—until Hector and I come to an agreement. Will you do it?"
"Of course. I'll make it happen. When are you back?"
"This evening. We're grabbing lunch, then flying out."
"Okay. I'll see you in the morning. And Raven—don't fuck this up."
"I won't," he said. "I promise."
They had just been seated. Raven ordered the wine—bold, smooth, something that lingered. They were scanning the menu when Pierre Le Grange decided to interrupt.
"Raven," he said, voice smooth but edged. "Didn't expect to see you here."
Raven looked up slowly. "Pierre."
Pierre's gaze flicked to Mynx, then back. "I see you've found company this trip. Who's this, a new performer perhaps?"
"I have, and none of your fucking business."
"Fellini's," Pierre said, glancing around. "Bold choice. Not exactly discreet."
"Neither am I," Raven replied, folding his menu. "Was there something you needed?"
Pierre smiled, thin and practiced. "Just saying hello. And I wanted to remind you that we had an agreement, and you backed out on it. I want to be able to take the performers up to Elesia Fields again."
Raven didn't blink. "That agreement was conditional, and you broke the terms first. And now is not the time or place to have this discussion."
Pierre's jaw tightened, but the smile stayed. "You're playing semantics."
"No," Raven said, voice low. "I'm protecting what's mine. Blood Lust and its reputation."
Pierre's gaze flicked to Mynx again, lingering just long enough to make a point. "You always did have a soft spot for trouble. I'd like to see how trouble tastes on my lips."
Raven leaned forward, elbows on the table, calm but coiled. "Walk away, Pierre. While you still can."
Pierre held his stare for a beat longer, then gave a curt nod and turned, his exit as deliberate as his entrance.
Mynx exhaled slowly. "Who was that?
And why was he banned from Elysia Fields? I thought that was where the performers spent time alone with the members."
Raven picked up his menu again, eyes scanning but not reading. "He's a member of Blood Lust and an honorary with the Kings. Someone I want you nowhere near."
He leaned back, calm but coiled, the kind of stillness that held weight.
Mynx didn't speak right away. She watched him, watched the way his jaw tightened just slightly, the way his fingers curled around the edge of the menu like he was holding more than paper.
"Okay," she said finally. Not defiant. Not afraid. Just steady. "I trust you."
Raven nodded once, then looked up as the waiter approached. "We'll start with the mushroom and sausage tortellini," he said, his voice smooth again. "And another bottle of the Barolo."
The moment passed, but the tension didn't. It just folded itself into the silence as they were waiting.
Raven watched her as she spoke, the way her voice softened around gratitude. The way her eyes held his was steady and unguarded.
"Before we head back," she said, "I just wanted to say thank you. For the trip. The date. For opening up to me. I feel like my time at Blood Lust might not be so hard to manage… knowing I have someone on my side."
He didn't answer right away. He felt the words settle in his chest, heavier than they sounded. Not burdensome—just real. Just hers.
She trusted him. Said it out loud. And that meant something.
Raven reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers with quiet certainty. He didn't need to prove himself. Didn't need to dress up who he was.
She was his. And he was already hers in ways he hadn't planned.
"You're not alone in this," he said, voice low. "Not anymore."
He meant it—every word. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like he was bluffing when he talked to a woman.