Chapter 39
RAVENA
“I’ve never seen a unicorn before.”
The sound of his voice pulls a smile from me, even with everything hanging over us.
The unicorn nibbles on the berries in my palm, its soft lips brushing against my skin. I glance over my shoulder and see him standing there, wearing that charmingly handsome grin. His eyes shine with a light that makes it impossible not to feel love—pure and unshakable—with every beat of my heart.
He’s beautiful—always has been—in that unfair, pretty-boy way that makes it difficult not to look at him.
But now… now he’s something else entirely.
The stubble along his jaw softens and sharpens him all at once, rugged in a way that makes my chest twinge, because he shouldn’t be allowed to look this good.
His hair has grown out just enough to fall into a messy tangle, dark and wild, and every time it slips into his eyes, I want to reach up and push it back.
I want to touch him constantly—run my fingers through it, trace the lines of his face, remind myself he’s real, that he’s mine.
“Come closer. Stroke him—he won't bite,” I say, tilting my head at Ronan and daring him.
He quirks a brow, a grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, that’s usually the line right before somebody loses a hand. Pretty sure I’ve seen that movie.”
I smirk, not letting him off easily. “What’s the matter? Afraid of a unicorn?”
His laugh is low and teasing. “Afraid? Cherry, I’ve fought monsters twice my size and uglier than Malrik on a good day. I just don’t usually cuddle with things that have spears growing out of their heads.”
I bite back a smile. “Then prove it.”
He steps forward and the unicorn studies him warily, but Ronan's focus never wavers—it’s on me, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist to him.
When he finally stops by my side, his warmth envelops me, steady and overwhelming at the same time.
His eyes drift down to my mouth, lingering there as if he's battling with himself. It’s unclear why, because I am his, and he is mine.
Then, he leans in, closing the distance and stealing the breath right out of me.
The kiss is unhurried at first, careful in a way that makes me want to hold onto him, and then his tongue brushes over my bottom lip. I can’t help the smile that curls against his mouth, a quiet surrender, a soft laugh caught between us.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips.
“I love you too.”
I don’t think I will ever tire of hearing those three words.
The unicorn nudges my hand again, pulling a small laugh from me. “Alright, alright,” I murmured, offering it the rest of the berries. My fingers trail through its silken mane, slow and careful, as if I press too hard, the moment might shatter. Its trust feels fragile. Precious.
“Did you know they’re hunted for their blood and horns?” The words slip out quietly, and when I peer up at Ronan, there’s a sad curve to my smile that I can’t quite hide.
His brow furrows, but I keep going. “Humans think their blood is magic—cures for sickness, bottled miracles. And shifters.” I exhale. “They kill them for sport. That’s why they are endangered.”
“And how do you know all of this?” Ronan asks curiously.
His hand finally brushes the unicorn’s neck, tentative at first, and the creature lets out a soft, pleased sound, its horn flickering with a faint glow under the light. For a moment, the world feels impossibly still—him, me, and this fragile bit of magic caught between us.
“When you spend a lot of time alone… moving from place to place,” I murmur, letting my fingers drift down the unicorn’s silken back, the motion steadying me, “you notice things. Learn things. Beats staring at walls all day.”
It’s also better than waiting to be captured or killed.
Ronan’s eyes linger on me, scanning, like he’s seeing pieces of me I hadn’t meant to show. Then a crooked grin spreads across his face.
“You’re incredible, you know that? Drives me insane sometimes… but yeah. You’re incredible.”
Would he still think that if he truly knew me?
He shifts closer without breaking eye contact, my hand hovers near his chest, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart.
“You really think so?” I tease softly, though my voice betrays me, catching just slightly.
“Absolutely.”
His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing gently against my skin. “Pretty sure I’m screwed for life when it comes to you.”
“Are you complaining?” I loop my arms around his neck, letting the warmth of the sun—and him—ground me in this rare moment of peace.
“Never, Cherry.” His nose brushes against mine.
He’s silent for a moment. “I heard you and Kieran.”
I trail my fingers over the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “And what exactly did you hear?”
His touch slides down my sides, settling on my hips with that easy, possessive confidence. “Pretty much everything.”
I am not surprised that he was listening.
“Eavesdropping again? No wonder you and Malrik get along so well,” I tease.
“Hey,” he pinches my side, making me squeal. “We are nothing alike.”
My hands wander over his strong shoulders, feeling the hard planes of his chest beneath my palms. “Well… you two do work pretty well together.”
The memory of all three of us together is something I will never forget.
He chuckles, then kisses my nose. “No changing the subject… but yeah, that… that was pretty fucking amazing.”
I glance away, Kieran's voice still echoing in my head like a ghost I can't shake. “We talked, okay? It got heated. He said his piece, I said mine. That's it.” I try to pull back, but Ronan's grip on my hips tightens, dragging me closer, refusing to let me run.
“Kieran’s complicated. He had a hard time growing up… but Cherry, just be patient with him.”
I press a gentle kiss to his lips, a promise more than a comfort. “I will. I won't give up that easily.” I force a smile, even though Kieran’s words are still carved into me like fresh wounds. He’s meant them to push me away, I know that—but it doesn’t make them sting any less.
Ronan's hands linger on my waist like he’s reluctant to let go. Then, with a sigh, he steps back, digging into his pocket.
“Malrik wanted me to give you this. That's why I came looking for you.”
When his hand emerges, the sun catches on the chain, a deep red stone dangling from it like a captured star.
“He figured it mattered—and judging by your face, he was right.” He presses the stone into my outstretched hand, his touch lingering for just a second longer.
My fingers curl around it, and relief floods me—like the air finally breaking free in my lungs.
With this stone, Vespera can’t kill Xarothar.
“When?”
“Apparently,” Ronan continues, eyes crinkling as he talks, “he swiped it the same night you saved me and Kieran. Planned on keeping it, maybe selling it off, but the second you mentioned Vespera and how she killed those dragons—he knew it was worth more in your hands than his pockets.” He rambles on, and I can’t help it—my lips curve into a grin.
“Well, looks like the crazy one is useful after all,” Xarothar grumbles in my mind, though the bond thrums with his relief, warm and fierce.
“You can come back now,” I tell him, throwing my arms around Ronan. He catches me and spins me with a laugh.
“Soon, Raven.”
“Soon? You’ve been gone too long already—I need you.”
Ronan sets me down, his arms still locked around me, but Xarothar's deep sigh cuts through. “I’ve been told… not yet.”
I shut my eyes, frustrated, as I released Ronan's shirt. “Tough shit,” I snapped the bond. “You tell whoever’s keeping you away that I don’t care. I need you now, Xarothar.
“Raven, it’s not that simple.”
I rip myself from Ronan's hold and spin away, anger and grief tangling in my chest. “Yes, it is. I need you tonight. Not for me—for them.”
I already know how tonight ends for me. If he knew, Xarothar would stop me without question.
“What are you planning?” His voice cuts through my thoughts.
Ronan steps in front of me, his brow creased, worry etched across his face. I chew my lip, swallowing down the sadness.
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll talk later.”
Before Xarothar can argue, I slam the bond shut. The silence that follows cuts deeper than his growl ever could, leaving me hollow and pissed that he still can’t come back to me.
“Everything alright?” Ronan asks, his voice careful, eyes searching mine like he already knows the answer.
I square my shoulders, forcing myself upright. “Just a disagreement with Xarothar,” I say, brushing it off with more steadiness than I feel.
He doesn’t push me for answers—he just turns around, bends a little, and pats his back with an exaggerated wiggle of his hips. “Hop on.”
I blink at him, caught between confusion and a laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”
He pats his back again, smirking over his shoulder. “Giving you a lift. And for the record, I don’t do this for just anyone. So, hop on, Cherry.” He throws me a wink that’s so shameless I can’t help but giggle.
Shaking my head, I step up behind him, grip his shoulders, and jump. His hands slide under my thighs with ease—settling just beneath my ass, where he gives the most unapologetic squeeze.
“Ronan,” I hiss, though I’m laughing against his neck.
“What? I’ve got to make sure my precious cargo’s secure.”
He starts walking through the forest, stepping over fallen branches and rocks. I lean forward, pressing the lightest kiss against his neck, and the warmth that floods me is instant.
This is why I love Ronan. He’s my happiness in chaos, my anchor when everything else threatens to pull me under.
He knows how to make me laugh when I forget how, how to be ridiculous just so I’ll smile, how to turn the darkest moments into something bearable.
He’s comfort and fire wrapped into one, and I will never stop being grateful that in the middle of this madness, I found him.