Page 49 of Raven

"Hold it still," I barked at Lachlan.

"Trying," he grunted, grabbing my discarded pole and holding one in each hand, straining against the current. Veins rose in his arms and neck from the effort. He wouldn't be able to hold it for long.

"Turn and sit on the edge of the boat," I instructed the girl. She complied, her movements slow and careful. "Lean back."

I caught her, lifting her and the boy with ease. I carried them backwards, hyper-aware of my footing until we were clear of the water. Turning, I gently set her down on solid ground.

We cleared the boatman, then escorted the girl to the car, settling her and her son in the back. I offered her something to eat and drink, but she refused. I noticed she didn't have much with her—just a small black bag containing her meagre belongings.

The boy slept through it all, oblivious to the events. I caught the girl's eye in the rearview mirror and offered a reassuring smile. Her gaze felt like it pierced right through me, but I think they were just eyes that had seen far too much in too few years. She laid the boy's head on her lap, stroking his hair tenderly. The gesture reminded me of long-ago trips with my own mother.

I'm not sure which memory exactly. Maybe the night when Malcolm came and picked us up, almost like this, though we didn't come from Exile. My recollections blurred, so many similar nights rolling into one. But I remembered being in the backseat with my mother, curled in the corner, feeling older than my years and resentful about being shipped around once again.

I recalled watching the lights as we entered the town, the tower coming into view, the silhouettes of hills and trees against the night sky. I remembered the myriad smells that came with it. And I remembered my anger. God, was I mad about being moved again.

This girl wasn't angry. Her fear kept prodding at me, trying to worm its way in. I focused on keeping her calm, projecting soothing energy as best I could, and asked myself, is this how my mother had felt? Was she the same? Was I too busy with my own bullshit back then to realise what she might have been going through?

I smiled at the girl, my eyes meeting hers in an attempt to offer some reassurance. We were the good guys, but the fear radiating off her told me she wasn't convinced. I had no idea what horrors she'd endured; that information wasn't mine to know. But for her to be shipped back this way and not to Exile, it must have been pretty fucking serious.

In my personal life, I didn't know anyone who had come from Exile. No one down in the underground, that was for certain. I'd helped plenty go the other way, for them to escape everything that oppressed others here. I'd only helped a pregnant shifter escape, and those who had been wrongly accused of things, but the humans don't give a damn. I've helped those the humans seem to be gunning for and the only way to save their lives was to send them to the barren place we all fear. That place with its large chimneys and camp-like accommodations. What I imaginefrom what I've heard, the place was desolate, with areas that resembled Nazi camps.

As Lachlan rolled the car to a stop on Holly Road, the engine's purr fading into the night, I turned to the girl. "We have to walk a couple of blocks," I said, my voice low and steady despite the nerves twisting in my gut. "It's for security. The fewer people who know where you are, the better."

Her eyes, wide and wary, flicked to Lachlan. "What about him?"

"I'm just gonna wait for Raven and then we'll get the car back home," Lachlan said.

Her exhaustion pushed against me. "I can carry the little one for you if you want," I offered, nodding to the sleeping child in her arms.

"It's okay," she murmured, her grip tightening. "I've got him."

I understood her reluctance. To her, I was just another stranger in a long line of threats. But fuck, she looked ready to collapse. Her face was pale as moonlight, dark circles etched beneath her eyes like bruises. She wasn't a shifter, but magic hummed beneath her skin. Some kind of witch, I guessed. Her power was silk against my senses, making my panther stir restlessly.

"I'm Raven, by the way," I said as I helped her out of the car, her movements slow and careful.

"Anika."

Something in her eyes caught me off guard. Behind the fear, there was a strength that made my panther want to reach out, to comfort her, to let her know she was safe. But I knew better than to crowd her. Instead, I kept a protective distance as we walked, close enough to defend her if needed, but not so near as to make her more uncomfortable.

The night air was crisp and still, the streets eerily quiet. Anika's eyes darted around constantly, searching for threats in every shadow. At one point, Lachlan gave us a wave before melting into the darkness, the car disappearing from view.

Anika's bag was light in my hand—she literally had nothing to her name. When I got home, I was going to hug my mother. And when I saw Tia ... fuck. I was going to promise her the world, vow that our child would never know this kind of fear and desperation.

The old tenement building loomed before us, freshly painted but still modest. As I punched in the key code, the smell of paint and new wood assaulted my nose. Inside, the floors gleamed pristine white, a stark contrast to the darkness we'd left behind.

Anika's room was at the top of the stairs. When I opened the door, the similarities to my old home with my mother hit me hard. One room with everything crammed in—bed, kitchen, sofa. At least we'd had a bedroom and a bathroom.

"The bathroom's two doors down," I explained, gesturing. "I'm afraid you have to share it."

Anika nodded, her eyes taking in every detail of the small space. "It's okay."

I handed her the key and Malcolm's contact card. Malcolm will check on you in a day or two.” Then I showed her the meagre supplies in the fridge and cupboards—milk, eggs, cereal, some fruit. It wasn't much, but it would keep her going. I gave her the envelope of cash Malcolm had provided, explaining its purpose.

Anika stood in the doorway, still cradling her sleeping child, hesitant to fully enter the room. As I turned to leave, something held me back. It wasn't my panther this time, but a deep, inexplicable need to make sure she'd be okay.

"Lock up behind me," I said, my voice gruff with emotion. "There's a chain and bolt on your door. Keep those fastened. Nobody knows you're here but me and Malcolm. If anyone elsecomes, it's a lie." I nodded to the phone. "Use that if you need anything, anytime. Someone will answer, someone will help."

A flicker of a smile crossed Anika's face, though I saw her hold her son tighter. He stirred, blinking sleepily. I hadn't meant to scare her, but I needed her to stay safe.

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