Page 73 of Raven

I sat back in the corner of my cell, my panther so curled up inside with all their fucked up lies. So torn apart. He wailed like a wounded animal, shattered in a way I didn't know was possible.

I fell for it. I fell for it, and my mother had been right, and I... God, Mum. If only I'd listened.

Their games, their lies. They'd woven a web so intricate, so believable, that I'd walked right into it, blind and willing. And now, the truth was a dagger, twisting in my gut, each revelation a fresh wound.

My fists clenched and unclenched, knuckles white with the force of my grip. I wanted to hit something, to tear this cell apart with my bare hands. But what good would that do? The real damage wasn't to the walls around me, but to the walls inside me—the ones I'd built to protect myself, the ones Tia had so carefully dismantled.

Tia. Her name alone sent a fresh wave of agony through me. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise—all lies. Mypanther keened, a sound so full of anguish it felt like it was being ripped from my very soul. He'd trusted her too, had seen her as our mate. Now, he recoiled from the very memory of her scent.

I slammed my fist into the wall, welcoming the sharp burst of pain. It was real, tangible, unlike the nebulous ache that consumed my chest. Blood trickled down my knuckles, but I barely noticed. What was a little more blood, when I was already bleeding inside?

"Fuck," I roared, my voice echoing in the empty cell. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK."

The rage bubbled up, hot and violent. I wanted to shift, to let my panther take over and rampage until there was nothing left of this pain. But even that was denied to me. I was trapt, in this cell, in this body, in this nightmare of betrayal.

My father's words echoed in my head. "I'm sorry we had to go to such lengths to get to you, Raven." Sorry? He was fucking sorry? A bitter laugh escaped me, bordering on hysteria. Sorry didn't begin to cover it. Sorry wouldn't erase the memory of Tia in Rick's arms, wouldn't undo the weeks of lies, wouldn't bring my mother back.

Mum. God, I'd failed her. She'd tried to protect me from this, and I'd walked right into their trap. The guilt was a leaden weight in my stomach, mixing with the grief and anger until I thought I might be sick.

I slid down the wall, my legs no longer able to support me. My panther paced restlessly within, alternating between snarling in fury and whimpering in pain. For once, we were in perfect sync—both of us shattered, both of us lost.

The tears came then, hot and angry. I didn't try to stop them. What was the point of pretending to be strong now? They'd seen me at my weakest, had orchestrated this whole charade to break me down. Well, congratulations to them. Mission fucking accomplished.

But as the tears flowed, something else stirred within me. A spark of defiance, small but fierce. They might have broken my heart, shattered my trust, but they hadn't broken my will. Not yet. Not ever.

I I wiped my eyes roughly, taking a deep, shuddering breath and closed my eyes, letting everything drown right through me in a cold heat that went through my body.

I visualised it, felt it like my father had done to me when he'd taken my mother from me. When he'd overwhelmed me. I was like him, right? He'd said that. I had his abilities, which meant I could do what he could do. So I played. Every piece of anger, every sliver of hurt that ran through my body, I used it, and then I sent it out, like little red angry marching ants. I sat cross-legged in the middle of my cell, like I was meditating and let my ability roam, let it spread from me like lava seeping across the ground.

Tia came down later. Alone. No Rick. I didn't get up. I don't even know how long I'd sat there, pushing the threads of power out, pulling them back in. Opening and closing my hands, mastering control. It'd become like breathing. I was sure I could wield the power with my hands, hold it like a ball of light and send it out. Control it.

"This hasn't been to hurt you," she said to me.

I lifted my head to stare at her, to feel that coming off her, but to see her.

"Your father tried to get to you. He wanted you back, but your mother had you so hidden."

"Well, you managed to get to me. If you can manage it, then why couldn't he? You all knew where I worked, where I went to college. You all ..." I trailed off, shaking my head at myself. "I don't want to talk to you. I bet you and Rick laughed at me, right? You'd come back and laugh at how stupid I was?"

"No. I would never ..."

"You would never?" I rose then, to walk over to the cage door. "You would never what, Tia? You're just like they are. You're pathetic, you're cruel, you're a fucking selfish viper, just the same as them. Oh, so my dad wants me back? Tough fucking shit. I will never be part of this pack. Not like this." I eyed my cage. "You can all keep me here, if that's what you want. Keep me prisoner. Whatever. I don't give a fuck, but the rest ... no. So fuck you, Tia. Just fuck you and fuck off. I never want to see you again."

I felt her recoil at my words, but sympathy was beyond me now. I didn't care if they hurt her.

"I did care for you. It wasn't a lie."

"Yeah? Well, you and I both have very different definitions of what caring for someone looks like." My words came out harsh, and I wished I could use them to physically hurt her, to make her heart ache the way mine did. I inhaled deeply, pulling the air right down as I gave Tia one last look and then I turned from her, went back to the middle of my cage and sat, resuming my position. I closed my eyes. I had nothing else to say to her. Nothing she could say to me.

I went to that place inside, where my ability lived, and I grabbed for it. I held onto it, to anchor myself. And then I pushed it out again, this time directing it straight at Tia. All the pain, the betrayal, the crushing weight of her lies—I channelled it all, flooding her with the raw, unfiltered agony that consumed me.

I felt her stagger under the onslaught of emotions. Her breath hitched, a small, choked sound escaping her lips. Good. Let her feel it. Let her drown in it, the way I was drowning.

"Raven ..." she gasped, her voice thick with the pain I'd forced upon her. "I ... I can't ..."

I didn't respond. Didn't even look at her. I just kept pushing, wave after wave of anguish and fury. Her footsteps, stumbling and uneven, as she retreated.

Good.

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