The intruder's words hung in the air like venom.
"Well, well. Hello again, Selene."
Behind Raven, Selene stiffened. He could hear it—the sudden spike of her heartbeat, the sharp intake of her breath. The bond between them pulsed violently, dragging her fear into his chest until it coiled tight around his ribs.
It made him want to kill.
"You dare," Raven snarled, stepping forward, crimson eyes igniting like flame, "to speak her name."
The intruder's smirk only deepened. He was tall, his presence coiling through the chamber like smoke, his amber eyes gleaming with insolent amusement. "Touchy. You always did guard your toys too closely." His gaze slid to Selene again, and the cruel humor in his voice sharpened. "But this one… this one knows me."
Selene's heart lurched at those words, and the bond stabbed through Raven again—confusion, terror, recognition. He ground his teeth, fury twisting in his gut.
He couldn't let this continue.
Raven moved in a blur, slamming the stranger against the stone wall so hard the ground shuddered beneath them. Dust rained down, the crack spreading like a spider's web where the intruder's body struck. Raven's hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing until bone creaked.
"You should not be here," Raven hissed, his voice raw, guttural. "No one enters these walls without my leave."
The vampire's lips curved, even as Raven's grip threatened to crush his windpipe. "Oh, Raven," he croaked, mocking, "you and your precious rules. But wards are nothing… when someone inside holds the door for me."
Raven's grip faltered for a heartbeat. Betrayal. The word scorched through him like fire. Who in his court—who among his own—would dare? His fury deepened, but his control wavered, slipping like blood through his fingers.
"Who?" Raven demanded, tightening his grip until the man's eyes flashed with pain. "Name them."
The intruder only laughed, low and cruel, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Raven's vision blurred red. He could end this now. One twist, one snap of the neck, and the chamber would be silent again. He longed for it—for the release, for the silence that came after slaughter. His instincts screamed to tear, to rip, to feast until nothing remained but ash.
But then—her.
Selene's presence brushed his mind like fragile wings. Her fear, her breathless panic, pressed into him through the bond. She was watching. Every ounce of his fury, every savage impulse—she felt it.
And for the first time in centuries, Raven hated himself for what she would see.
With a snarl of disgust—at the intruder, at himself—he released his grip. The vampire dropped to the floor and landed too gracefully, straightening as if Raven's hold had been nothing more than an inconvenience.
"You've grown weak," the stranger said softly, brushing stone dust from his collar. "The Raven I knew would never have let sentiment stay his hand. A human girl has softened your claws."
Raven's fangs bared. "Careful."
The man chuckled, unshaken. "Oh, I am careful. More than you know. But she—" He gestured lazily toward the curtain where Selene hid. His amber eyes glowed faintly. "She remembers more than you want her to. And when the truth surfaces… she'll look at you not with fear, not with hunger—" His smile widened, cruel. "But with hate."
The words struck deeper than any blade. The bond inside Raven twisted like a knife, dragging Selene's confusion into him. He wanted to roar, to silence the voice poisoning her mind. But he couldn't—not without confirming the seed the intruder had just planted.
He lunged again, but this time the stranger dissolved into mist, his laughter echoing as he swept through the shattered window and into the night. Gone.
Raven stood motionless, chest heaving, hands clenched so tight his nails drew blood. He could still taste the ash of rage in his throat.
The chamber was silent again, but not still. Selene's presence pulsed against him through the bond—her fear, her shock, her doubt. He didn't have to look to know she was staring at him from behind the velvet curtain, wide-eyed, trembling, her mind spiraling with questions he couldn't answer.
Slowly, he turned.
Their gazes locked, crimson against wide, uncertain eyes.
And for the first time in longer than he cared to admit, Raven felt something cold and foreign slide into his chest.
Not fury. Not hunger.
Fear.
Not of the intruder who had slipped past his walls, not of betrayal within his court.
But fear that when Selene finally learned the truth—whatever she thought she recognized in that man's voice—her bondmate would become the monster she could never forgive.
The memory struck like lightning—
A night years ago. Rain pounding the cobblestones. Screams splitting the air.
Her mother's hand gripping hers, warm and desperate.
"Run, Selene!"
The sound of breaking glass, the scent of blood, the darkness swallowing her as she stumbled.
And then—
That voice. Smooth. Mocking.
The same words whispered into her mother's ear before the light in her eyes went out.
Selene's breath hitched. She pressed a hand to her chest, trembling violently. The face of the intruder tonight was not the same as in her memory—sharper, crueler, touched by immortality—but the voice was identical. The sound that haunted her dreams.
It was him. The one who had stood over her mother's body.
Her lips parted, but no words came. She couldn't tell Raven. Not yet. Not when the truth might tear open wounds she wasn't ready to bleed again.
Instead, she dragged in a shaky breath and forced her body to still, hiding her shaking hands in the folds of her dress. Raven's eyes lingered on her, sharp and unyielding, as though he could see every secret she tried to bury.
"Go to bed," he said finally, his voice low, clipped. "You are safe here."
Selene almost laughed—bitter, hollow. Safe? She had never felt less safe in her life.
But she nodded anyway, retreating toward the bed with measured steps. Raven turned his back, his crimson eyes narrowing at the shattered window where the intruder had vanished.
Selene slid under the heavy covers, her body rigid, her mind whirling. She closed her eyes, but all she saw was her mother's face. All she heard was that familiar voice, promising death.
And now he was here.
Watching her.
Waiting.