Raven Chapter 31 Matchmakers and A Madman 387 #2
She just blinks at me in confusion before giving a hesitant nod. No longer able to stand here, I grab Izzy’s hand and drag her to the door.
Miriam meets us at the door and informs me Selena is in the library. I have no idea where that is, so I let her lead, a parade of hot warrior women in my wake.
I bust through the library door and waste no time. I grab Izzy by the shoulders and shove her gently toward Selena, who’s perched on a sofa.
“This is Izzy. Izzy, Selena.” I gesture between them like a game show host. “And this is Enra, Flare, and Numbra.” The three women file in around me, flanking their tall, willowy commander.
Selena is only slightly shorter than they are—which is surprising given who her brother is.
As I watch them stand there, the urge to lock them all in a closet together immediately eases. The energy in the air between them is practically buzzing.
They just… stare. For a long, charged moment. Then Izzy seems to reboot. She offers a hand. “Hello, Selena. It’s a pleasure.”
When their hands clasp, a visible little jolt passes between them. The other three women shuffle closer as one unit. My smile is so wide it threatens to crack my face in half.
“Och, is that it?” Kieran materializes beside me, winking. “I was wondering what you were scheming while you were runnin’ through the house like your arse was on fire. Well done, Wisp.”
I just aim the smile I can’t seem to get rid of at him, motioning to the artwork I’ve created in front of me.
The only thing that eases the intensity of my smile is Anik’s face when I realize he’s followed us as well.
He’s looking at the ladies and Selena like he wants to give them space while simultaneously ripping them apart.
The shadows at his feet writhe in a reflection of his tension.
I take a step back and into him, hoping I can help.
When my arm brushes up against him, I’m proven right. His shadows still. Then, as if drawn by a magnet, they curl up my legs in a cool, intimate embrace.
My eyes dart back to Selena and her future girlfriends, because I’d bet my non-existent fortune on that happening.
When my eyes fall on Numbra, I see she’s staring at Anik’s shadows, raw horror flashing across her face before she masks it and takes a sharp step back—away from Selena, away from all of us.
Oh, hell no . She does not get to pull a Forrest. One self-righteous, emotionally constipated asshole is my limit. I open my mouth to call her out just as Forrest, Dre, and Em file into the room, their arms laden with heavy boxes.
“Are there more books in the car to be unloaded?” Izzy asks.
“A few,” Dre says, already turning for the door.
Izzy holds up a hand. “My team can retrieve them. I need to know what has happened since Raven regained her body.” Her hand comes to rest softly on Numbra’s shoulder as the shadow mage moves to leave. “I’ll need you here. You’re the only other person who understands the type of magic she wields.”
Numbra shakes her head, a sharp, definitive motion. “No. I will not be in a room with him.” She juts her chin toward Anik. “He’s some sort of harvester. I want no part of that.”
I look between them, utterly lost. Anik is locked up tight, his entire body vibrating with something I can’t place.
I glance at the other guys and watch them all go rigid.
Forrest takes two deliberate steps to stand in solid, unspoken solidarity with Anik.
I can see the scathing reply building behind his eyes, but Selena beats him to it.
“Don’t. You. Dare.” She seethes, stepping forward.
“You know nothing about my brother. Nothing about what he’s been through.
” She jabs a finger toward Anik, then back at herself.
“Without him, I’d be rotting in some tiny jungle village, treated as prime breeding stock by alphaholes who only care about my bloodline. ”
Forrest’s arm snaps up like a barricade in front of Anik, whose eyes flash with a feral, black light as he lunges forward a half-step.
The gargoyle’s gaze cuts to Selena. “Please don’t paint vivid pictures of your own violation when we’re trying to keep him from devolving.”
Her eyes go wide as she truly sees her brother. “Shit,” she whispers.
I’m getting ready to climb Anik like a tree when Kieran slides in front of me to stand between the massive shifter and his target.
He doesn't touch him. He just leans in, his voice a confidential stage-whisper clearly meant for everyone in this room.
“Och, steady, Niko,” he says, the name holding a gravity I don’t fully understand.
“Eyes on the prize, big man.” He gives a slow, deliberate glance toward me, then back to Anik, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Do you want to scare off our future missus by goin' full beastie before she's even agreed to it?
That's a daft plan. Let her see the prize first, aye? "
Kieran’s words hang in the air. For a heartbeat, the only sound is Anik’s ragged breath. Then his eyes—still dark but clearing—flick from Kieran’s knowing face, to me.
He gives a single, sharp shake of his head, as if physically dislodging whatever just took him over. Something I, personally, would really like to understand. Why couldn’t the universe have supplied me with novels regarding the guys when I materialized onto this plane?
Because the pantheon is a bunch of bored, immortal teenagers, and I'm their favorite Sims character. Why give me a manual when they can just drag the pool ladder away and laugh?
I watch as Anik takes a deliberate step back, breaking the slow, lethal forward momentum from a moment ago. His hand finds my waist, his touch firm and very welcome.
I know Kieran told him he shouldn’t ruin his chances with me by going full feral, but a part of me—all of me, really—wants to see him lose it.
I want all that energy directed at me, because I know, without a sliver of doubt, that he wouldn’t hurt me.
Which means the energy has to go somewhere, and there’s only one other place I can think to direct it.
Note to self: figure out how to get Anik to flip his feral switch when we’re alone next.
In one smooth motion, he draws me back with him, pulling me into the solid wall of his chest. A low, rolling growl vibrates through him—and straight to my clit.
As the growl subsides, I realize that the rest of Izzy’s team has already left to grab the rest of the boxes, and now both Izzy and Numbra are just looking at me expectantly. The shadow mage’s earlier hostility is definitely still there, but it’s been softened by confusion.
Right. I missed the part where I was supposed to start talking.
“Oh! Yeah, you wanted to know what happened.” I tap my lips, scrambling.
“There were pretty lights, lots of pain, a face plant, Forrest went all asshole commander, and there was chocolate. I learned how to do laundry, and I’ve discovered that my favorite texture is something called waffle knit.
I’ve learned I prefer natural fibers, but velvet is definitely an exception…
” I trail off, mentally rifling through the chaotic filing cabinet of my last few weeks.
“None of that is helpful,” Izzy says, adopting a perfect Forrest-power-stance: arms crossed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Oh, Selena. I might have set you up with the female version of our resident hard-ass. My bad.
Just as I think of the man himself, he steps forward and turns to me. “May I?” he asks.
I just gape and nod dumbly. The fact that he asked before taking over sends me reeling. It feels similar to when he gave me that half-admission, half-apology while I was only a single bottle of champagne deep.
Both moments feel like a fever dream, but at least this time I'm not wondering if there's some fine print I'm missing. It also makes the hope that kindled during his apologetic admission flare a little brighter.
"Alright. If we're doing this, we do it with facts. Chronology only. From the moment she became corporeal."
He doesn’t look at me again, and I’m more than okay with that. Am I disappointed there’s not even a single mention of pretty lights and cool textures? Sure. But he’s building a wall of procedure, and I’m happy to hide behind it. Let the grown-ups talk.
I follow along with his clinical recap, but can’t help perking up when Em starts interjecting with his own extremely accurate, wildly obscure details.
Like, apparently, my circadian rhythm was on a 28-hour cycle for the first week and only averaged out to 24 hours once the ‘training from hell’ started. I have no idea how he found time to measure that, or even how he measured it. Stopwatch? Bedside vigils? Did he just... watch me sleep?
Do I want the answer to that?
The little tingle down my spine says I definitely do but I shove it aside because now is not the time to get hot and bothered over Em’s unhinged obsession with me.
When they’re done, Umbra’s intense black eyes meet mine.
“Do you have anything to add?” she asks, her tone flat enough to belong to a necromancer.
“Is there something wrong with my familiars?” I chew my lip. “They’ve been really quiet since we got here. Since the whole… invisible electric fence hug happened. I’m worried.”
She blinks slowly, the physical equivalent of a system reboot.
"Based on the briefing," she begins, her voice a monotone of pure why-am-I-explaining-this, "you gained a body, immediately bonded with two high-level familiars, then—without acclimating—forced them to dampen multiple city-leveling power surges.
You were then physically and emotionally pushed to your limit for nearly two weeks.
After which, you had what amounts to a nap and a granola bar before crossing into a sanctuary city and expending immense stores of power into said city's protective barrier. "
A sigh escapes her, definitely a little judgy. "Fuck, I'd be napping, too. Your birds are smarter than you are."
And that was just straight judgment.
Rude. Even though she's right.