Page 22 of Raven's Dawn

“Rain did.”

“Well, I would’ve been shocked if she hadn’t given it to Rain. They’re clearly close.”

They’d only known each other for couple months, but yes. They had fostered a friendship during that time. Still, that statement didn’t sit right with me. “Véa doesn’t play favorites, Amara.”

“I didn’t say she does.”

In so many words, she had.

But that wasn’t fair. I knew Amara. At least, I knew who she was when we were kids. She didn’t seem much different now than she was then. And considering that, I wasn’t shocked that Laila told her she needed more time.

Amara wasn’t particularly kind. I wouldn’t call her evil. She’d extended kindness to me when almost no one else in our village had. But she could be rude. Snippy, to say the least. Judgmental. Holier than thou.

It didn’t affect how I saw her. Usually, her aggression was well-placed. She wanted to do the right thing, balance the scales between good and bad. But that didn’t change that her methods were often wrong.

“Maybe ask her why she said no. Then work on yourself for a while,” I said. “Ask again in a few years.”

“Maybe.” Grabbing the log behind her for stability, Amara started to her feet. “I gotta piss. Don’t pass out while I’m gone.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

Forest crackled under her feet as she walked off behind me. And I sat with that for a while. The comfort of nature.

Reclining against the log, basking in the heat that floated from the fire at my legs, I turned to the sky above. My gods, the beauty of it here. Back home, even on Warren’s acres and acres of land, you still couldn’t see the stars like this.

On Earth, where the land was polluted with light, you could only ever make out speckles of stars sprinkled against the cerulean backdrop. Here, you could see it all. Just above me, a galaxy shone. Every star burned like its own sun. Encapsulated by orange and yellow smoke—which Ezra had once informed me was called a nebula—the sky beamed like creative light shows at a rave. I’d only been to one of those, when I was seventeen with Jake. It had been the closest I’d felt to home since I’d left, and I’d relished in sharing the view with my best friend. Now I was back, and Jake was not beside me, but it was more beautiful than the rave lights could ever be.

All around, much like the stars in that nebula, this world seemed to hold me. On Earth, I got pleasure from sitting outside, but not like this. Not like home.

It was like the entire landscape breathed its life into me. That cool wind cutting through the warmth of the fire—a simple and yet intrinsic combination. It smelled faintly of the sea, and somewhere in the distance, waves crashed against the shore, controlled by that orange, full moon. I could almost taste the salt in the air. Every few minutes, a dragon’s call would echo off the mountains.

On Earth, when I heard an animal in the wild, there was a moment of fear. What if it had rabies? What if it was hungry?

Not here. Here, it was such a simple exchange of life for life. We were all one within each other, and there was a part of me that never wanted to leave. A very small part, but a part nonethel?—

“Somebody’s out—” Amara screamed. She yelled, and then she screamed, and I remembered why I left.

No matter how beautiful, this was the reality of the Fae Realm.

Fear. Not of nature, but of the enemies that lurked behind each tree.

At my side sat a blade of Elvan ore. I snatched it up and sprung to my feet. “Everybody up! Get the fuck up!”

9

RAIN

Screams.

I woke to screams. Graham’s voice, saying something that didn’t register. Laila yelling something, then voices I didn’t know.

A bright flash.

I shot up in my sleeping bag, but all I saw was white.

I couldn’t see.

The whiteness blinded me. My irises burned, and even when I shut my eyes, I could still see the light.