Page 10 of The Raven's Alpha

"I'm kidding," he says with a chuckle. His eyes sparkling with amusement. But then his expression turns serious. "Actually, I think I do know who your raven is," he says, his voice low and conspiratorial.

I raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

Ezra's eyes lock onto mine, his voice low and conspiratorial. "As far as I’m aware, there aren't many raven shifters in Everlong, and even fewer who match your description. But there's one who stands out - Darcy, the owner of the gothic mansion at the top of the hills. You know the one I'm talking about? The one that seems to loom over the town like a spirit?"

Of course, I know the place he’s talking about. I’ve never been to the mansion but the place is huge and is well known throughout the village for its unique architecture, although I thought the place was abandoned.

I nod thoughtfully, my mind racing to think up a plan. "Yeah, I know the place. But I'm not sure if just showing up at his doorstep is a good idea. I don’t want to scare the poor guy."

His grin grows wider. "Exactly. That's why we should send him something instead. A bouquet of rare flowers and a handwritten note might be just what we need to get his attention."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his idea. "You know, that's actually a really good idea. I can see it now - a bunch of exotic flowers and a note that says something like 'I’m sorry I was an idiot’."

Ezra chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Something like that. And who knows, maybe he'll be impressed by our... creative approach."

I smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment after wrapping up my conversation with Ezra. "Tomorrow morning, I'll bring you some treats from Grizzlies," I say, already looking forward to our next encounter.

As I head towards the door, I glance back at the shelves and spot something that catches my eye.‘Ah, Darcy would love this,’my bear says, its voice low and rumbling. I nod in agreement and grab the gift.

While I make my way back home, I can’t help but think about my little bird's name.Darcyhas a certain ring to it, don't you think?

Chapter Five

Darcy Mortlake

It’s been a couple of days since the official introduction with my fated mate. Every time I think about him, I remember that I sprinted away with my tail between my legs.

The thought of him being in a relationship with someone else feels like a punch to the gut. I feel a pang of jealousy, mixed with a dash of uncertainty. How had I never noticed that he was already taken? I’d been snooping in that forest for weeks, and yet I'd never seen his partner around. Maybe it was a new relationship, one that had started recently? The uncertainty gnawed at me, making me feel restless and anxious.

I burrow deeper into my blankets, the softness a poor substitute for the comfort I'm craving. Since I returned from Eddy's cabin, I've been trapped in this mansion, unable to muster the energy to venture beyond its grounds. Even my usual sanctuary, the calm atmosphere of my conservatory, feels like a prison cell today.

The memory of Eddy's cabin still lingers, haunting me with its serene silence and the gentle rustle of leaves. I recall the way the warm golden light of late afternoon filtered through the trees, casting spotted shadows on the forest floor that seemed to stretch out like tiny fingers. The scent of pine and woodsmoke that wafts through the air, like a sheet that soothes my frazzled nerves but only now serves to remind me of what I've lost.

As I relive those memories, I'm struck by the irony of it all. The peace and tranquillity I once found in those woods now feels like acruel mockery, a reminder of all that I've failed to achieve. The shame and embarrassment I feel are like a heavy weight pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.

The thought of Eddy's absence makes me feel like a threadbare sweater, worn thin and fraying at the seams. I can sense the invisible string that once connected us beginning to unravel, its tiny fibres snapping one by one. My heart is a heavy weight in my chest, a dull ache that throbs with every beat.

As I think about losing Eddy, I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of uncertainty. The silence is deafening, a void that yawns open like a chasm. I can almost hear the thread of our connection whispering its final goodbye, the sound echoing through my mind like a mournful sigh.

The doorbell's chime slices through the stillness, jolting me awake from the weightless sleep that's become my default state. I didn't mean to drift off again, but with no purpose to anchor myself, my days have become a blur of aimlessness. The pillow still bears the imprint of my head, and I can almost smell the stale scent of my skin.

As I swing my legs over the side of the high-rise sofa, my feet dangle in mid-air, searching for a foothold as I rub my eyes, trying to shake off the haze of disorientation.

I drag myself off the sofa, my joints protest with a chorus of groans, and my skin feels parched and dry. The hallway is a blur thorough tired eyes, but I manage to make my way to the door, my fingers trailing along the worn countertop as if seeking comfort from the familiarity.