Raven Guard Quotes

I thought you hated demons. Now you use them like servants. The Ravener, the Drevak demons, Agramon-they‘re your employees. Guards, butler-personal chef, for all I know.” -Jace to Valentine, pg.260-

If instead you feed the wolf and tame him and turn his pups into your guard dogs, they will protect the flocks when the pack comes ravening.

It's a rare man who can guard against beauty.

Unanswered vox hails requested medical aid and supply, but the line of Astartes at the top of the north ridge was grimly silent as the exhausted warriors of the Raven Guard and Salamanders came to within a hundred metres of their allies. A lone flare shot skyward from inside the black fortress where Horus had made his lair, exploding in a hellish red glow that lit the battlefield below like a madman’s vision of the end of the world. And the fire of betrayal roared from the barrels of a thousand guns.

For the first and the last time in his life, Corax cried. He cried not for the loss of life, though it was great. He cried not for the degradation that has been heaped upon his dead warrior, though it was obscene. He cried for all Astartes, for the shame that Horus has brought upon them. They had been the Emperor's trusted sword, and they had betrayed him. It mattered not that Corax himself had remained loyal, he was Astartes and the shame of one was the shame of all. 'Will they ever trust us again?' A tear rolled down his cheek and dropped onto the fallen Raven Guard. Should they trust us, was the next question.

Ravenous curiosity was moving like a sort of groundswell beneath his conscious determination to stand on guard.

Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I repeat against his chest. He saved me. My quiet, stoic guard just killed a king to save my life.

For ourselves, Mighty Father, I pray you keep us from the sin of hatred, keep us from the sin of vengeance, keep us from the sin of despair, but protect us from the wicked schemes of our enemies. Walk with us now on this uncertain road. Send angels to go before us, angels to go behind, angels on either side, angels above and below—guarding, shielding, encompassing.” He paused for a moment and then added, “May the Holy One give us the courage of righteousness and grant us strength for this day and through all things whatsoever shall befall us. Amen.

I called Matt from Columbia when I needed help." "Yeah," Nicky said, unimpressed. "So we all heard. You called Matt, gave him your 'I'm fine' song and dance routine, and then hitchhiked with strangers back to campus. Maybe you remember?" Nicky waited, but Neil couldn't defend himself against an accusation like that. "Anyway, you're welcome. I just saved you at least two hundred dollars in intensive therapy." Neil didn't think Nicky wearing down his guard was something to be grateful for, but he obediently said, "Thank you." "You ever say that like it's not a question?" Nicky asked, looking pained. "Oh well. I'll take my victories where I can. Focus on the battles first, then win the war, right? I don't know how the quote actually goes but you know what I mean. So where was I?" It didn't take him long to remember. He chattered away a mile a minute about his upcoming presentation. Neil let it go in one ear and out the other. His mind was more on the phone still sitting in his hands than the put-upon tone of Nicky's voice. When Nicky finally turned away to harass Aaron about something, Neil flipped his phone open. He went past his packed inbox to his call history. It hadn't changed; Andrew's name was still the only one there.

When a wolf descends upon your flocks, all you gain by killing him is a short respite, for other wolves will come,” King Garth IX said famously. “If instead you feed the wolf and tame him and turn his pups into your guard dogs, they will protect the flocks when the pack comes ravening.” King

Few humans frequented the deep forest there because of its wild lands, wild animals, and wild legends. In the chamber below the earth, Gregori roused himself several times, always on guard, always aware, asleep or awake, of those around him and the region surrounding them. In his mind he sought the child. She was brave and intelligent, a warm, living creature shedding a glow of light into his unrelenting darkness. His silver eyes pierced the veil of sleep to stare up at the dirt above his head. He was so close to turning, far closer than either Raven or Mikhail suspected he was holding on by his fingernails. ..All feeling had left him so long ago that he could not remember warmth or happiness. He had only the power of the kill and his memories of Mikhail’s friendship to keep him going. He turned his head to look at Raven’s slight form. You must live, small one. You must live to save our race, to save all of mankind. There is no one alive on this earth who could stop me. Live for me, for your parents. Something stirred in his mind. Shocked that an unborn child could exhibit such power and intelligence, he nonetheless felt its presence, tiny, wavering, unsure. All the same the being was there, and he latched on to it, sheltered it close to his heart for a long while before he reluctantly allowed himself to sleep again.

As he listened to them, Neil realized he was happy. It was such an unexpected and unfamiliar feeling he lost track of the conversation for a minute. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this included or safe. It was nice but dangerous. Someone with a past like his, whose very survival depended on secrecy and lies, couldn't afford to let his guard down. But as Nicky laughed and leaned closer to talk about one of Neil's goals, Neil thought maybe he'd be okay just for a night.

She had three days to ponder what that truth might be.Three days during which Dragon scarcely let her out of his sight. He went so far as to try to accompany her to the queen's solar, only to be shooed away by Ealhswith even as she smiled and took pains to reassure him. "I promise you, my lord,the Lady Rycca will be as safe here as a babe in arms. Believe me, the quarters of the queen are not entered into by miscreants." "That is all well and fine, majesty, but-" "Should you not be aware,my lord, we had an incident here last year when the Lady Krysta was taken from Winchester by stealth. Since then, my lord husband has spared no effort to assure nothing of the sort can ever happen again." She gestured toward the grim-faced guards on watch in the corridor. "You will find the same beneath my windows, Lord of Landsende,and even above us on the roof. Not even an errant bird can enter here." Even as she spoke, through the open door where she stood Dragon saw a raven alight on the sill of one of the solar's windows. Rather oddly, he thought, Krysta walked over and began talking to it. "There are four new books in the scriptorium, my lord," the queen said, unaware of what was going on behind her, "and a young priest-a friend of Father Desmond, who is now at Hawkforte-who is responsible for one of them. By the way,he has a yen to travel." That said,she shut the door not quite in his face but as close to it as that gently lady could ever come. Dragon hesitated. He eyed the guards,who eyed him back,reminded himself that he was in the house of the king,and finally decided to go look at the new books. While he was at it,he just might have a word with the priest.

He couldn't find Matthew. He couldn't find Declan. He couldn't find Adam. He was trapped here. All this time, he had judged Declan for being so staid as he took extreme measures to keep his brothers safe. But all this time, that was what Ronan should have been doing. He had so much power before the ley line was shut down. He should have been guarding his family, not the other way around. Instead he acted like a petulant kid. He made up the task of guarding the world, which meant nothing to him, instead of guarding his family, which meant everything to him.

After six long hours of driving and three rest stops, Tiger pulls up to a snow-topped, metal speaker box just outside the State Penitentiary's first gate in Walla Walla. As he rolls down his window and snow flies in his face, Joshua starts begging for a Happy Meal. I turn around, snapping at him. "This ISN'T MCDONALDS and YOU AREN'T HUNGRY. NOW SHUT UP BRAT." A loud scratchy masculine voice blasts out of the speaker. "CAN I HELP YOU?" Tiger leans out the window, as he answers- We're here to visit Raven Chandler. "HAVE YOU BEEN HERE BEFORE?" "Yes sir. I've been here A LOT." "WHERE'S HIS MOTHER?" "I don't know.. I haven't seen her in months." "NOT THE PRISONER'S MOTHER. THE BRAT IN THE BACK SEAT OF YOUR JEEP." "Oh- HIM-" As he turns, smiling and sticking his tongue out at Joshua, I lean towards his window to answer the guard's question. "SHE'S IN VEGAS, SIR. I'M BABYSITTING. HE'S MY GODSON." When the speaker remains disturbingly silent for far too long, I continue. "HE'S A GOOD BOY SIR. HE WON'T BE ANY TROUBLE- I SWEAR." "THAT'S RIGHT," Tiger said. "HE SWEARS ON THE LITTLE BRAT'S MOTHER'S GRAVE.

. Unable to find a master list of what military assets they could use, NORAD personnel opened phone lists and began to call Air Force and Air National Guard bases across the United States one by one, asking if they had any planes they could get airborne. “There were Guard units I’d never heard of calling asking how they could help. And we said, ‘Yes, take off,’ ” recalls one NEADS technician. By the day’s end, nearly 400 fighters, tankers, and airborne command posts would be keeping watch from the sky, flying out of sixty-nine different sites around the country. Not even the height of the Cuban Missile Crisis had seen such a huge, rapid military buildup. VII. Even inside the agency, communication

- Why don't you live on the school guards? - Because I own these building, Gansey said. Its a better investment than paying for dorm housing. You cant sell your dorm after you are done with school. And where did that money go? Nowhere...

answer. The smallest smile tips my lips. “There’s my guard of few words,” I tease gently, even though it feels forced, even

It gives me no pleasure to do this,’ said Sharrowkyn. ‘You are nothing to me, simply a rabid dog that needs to be put down.

I realize that there’s an entirely different reason I need to stay guarded against him. And it has everything to do with the way warmth is spreading through my chest, with the way chills have scattered over my skin from the purr of his voice.

The men of our parish believed the birds to be an omen of death. They believed the same of me, too, so maybe I shared a kinship with the foreboding creatures. It was said that, on the day I’d been found near these woods, ravens had flocked around my basket. I liked to think they were guarding me, but some thought it a sign. A terrible sign. The whole parish had branded me as cursed ever since. The lorn.

As for Elm, you won’t get your hands on him. He won’t be coming with us. What makes you think I’d hurt him? Ravyn scoffed. He’s a Rowan. Descendant of the man who stole your throne and killed your kin. You’ve had five hundred years to imagine your revenge. His stomach turned as he looked at the old blood beneath the Nightmare’s fingernails. Surely you want him dead. I had plenty of time to hurt him. Only I didn’t. The Princeling sensed me—saw my strange eyes—and recoiled. He understands, far better than you, Captain, that there are monsters in this world. He let out a long breath. My claws would find no purchase in a Rowan who is already broken. When Ravyn’s rigid jaw didn’t ease, the Nightmare grinned. Above rowan and yew, the elm tree stands tall. It waits along borders, a sentry at call. Quiet and guarded and windblown and marred, its bark whispers stories of a boy-Prince once scarred. His voice in Ravyn’s mind went eerily soft. And so, Ravyn Yew, your Elm I won’t touch. His life strays beyond my ravenous clutch. For a kicked pup grows teeth, and teeth sink to bone. I will need him, one day, when I harvest the throne.

Apparently, traitors don’t get three meals a day, and sometimes not even one. Especially not after attacking a guard and trying to steal his sword.

My stoic guard is blushing. I never thought I’d see the day.

The guards might as well be holding their dicks instead of swords for all the good it does them.

One second, I’m staring at Digby as he barely keeps it together, and then Auren has launched herself into his arms. He staggers back from the shock and her hold. But when he realizes who’s hugging him, when he realizes it’s real, he wraps his arms around her, and his face crumples as the old guard cries. Cries.

Inside, the tent was sectioned off by cloth walls. In the main area where they entered, there was a table with four chairs and an arming stand that held the knight’s chain mail, helm, and sword. “Ioan?” Christian called. No one answered. As they turned to leave, they were confronted by what appeared to be a young archer who was surely no older than the boy who had led them here. Several inches shorter than Adara, he was gangly and thin, with raven-black hair and brown eyes that watched them warily. He held his bow at the ready with an arrow already nocked. “Who are you and what business have you with Lord Ioan?” he asked in a gruff, low tone. “We are old friends,” Christian said calmly. Phantom moved toward him. The archer turned quickly and let fly the arrow. Phantom caught it midflight, but before he could take another step, the archer swung the bow and caught him upside his head with it. Phantom staggered back from the force of the blow. The archer struck again and knocked him to the ground. Christian moved toward them. Before Adara could blink, the archer had another arrow nocked and ready to fly into Christian’s chest. “Corryn, cease!” The Welsh-accented voice rang through the room like thunder. Adara looked at the entrance to see a tall, well-muscled man there who bore a striking resemblance to the archer. His wavy black hair fell to his shoulders and a full beard covered his cheeks. He looked wild and untamed as he put himself between the archer and Christian. “What has gotten into your head, Spider?” he asked the archer in his thick, rolling accent. “They came here looking for you,” the archer said brashly, as if the larger man’s anger didn’t concern him at all. He finally unnocked the arrow. “After the message from Stryder saying there were assassins out to kill you, I thought I was protecting you, brawd.” The man she assumed must be Ioan made a disgusted noise at him. “God save me from your protection. Did it never occur to you that an assassin wouldn’t bother to come into my tent and announce himself?” He said something in a language Adara didn’t understand, but by Corryn’s reaction, it must have been a curse or reprimand of some kind. “Now apologize. You almost took the head off the Abbot, and it’s the Phantom who you’ve knocked to the ground.” The archer’s face went pale at that. Ioan stepped away from the boy to offer his hand to Phantom, who took it. He helped him back up to his feet. “You’ll have to forgive my brother, Phantom. He’s a damned fool.” “Are you the Abbot?” Corryn asked Christian. “Aye.” The boy’s lips quivered before he threw himself into Christian’s arms. “May the saints guard your blessed soul throughout all eternity!” Christian looked awkward as he frowned at Ioan. “Brother?” Ioan’s gaze turned dark, dangerous as he pulled Corryn back. Still Corryn stared at Christian with hero worship. “Thank you, Abbot, for bringing my brother back to me.” “Get out of here, scamp,” Ioan said gruffly, “before I skin you.” Corryn curled his lip at Ioan. “I spoke too soon, Abbott. Curses to you, that you brought his surly hide home. Methinks you should have left him there to rot.” He turned to Phantom. “My apologies to you, sir. I hope you’ll forgive me.” Phantom shook the boy’s arm. “I admire anyone who can get the better of me. It doesn’t happen often.” “Corryn!” “I’m leaving,” he snapped. “To the devil with your hoary hide.” -Christian, Corryn, Ioan, & Phantom

In the chamber below the earth, Gregori roused himself several times, always on guard, always aware, asleep or awake, of those around him and the region surrounding them. In his mind he sought the child. She was brave and intelligent, a warm, living creature shedding a glow of light into his unrelenting darkness. His silver eyes pierced the veil of sleep to stare up at the dirt above his head. He was so close to turning, far closer than either Raven or Mikhail suspected. He was holding on by his fingernails. All feeling had left him so long ago that he could not remember warmth or happiness. He had only the power of the kill and his memories of Mikhail’s friendship to keep him going. He turned his head to look at Raven’s slight form. You must live, small one. You must live to save our race, to save all of mankind. There is no one alive on this earth who could stop me. Live for me, for your parents. Something stirred in his mind. Shocked that an unborn child could exhibit such power and intelligence, he nonetheless felt its presence, tiny, wavering, unsure. All the same the being was there, and he latched on to it, sheltered it close to his heart for a long while before he reluctantly allowed himself to sleep again.

While most of the town were settling down to their dinners that evening, Hannah, a raven-haired servant girl, hurried across the marketplace and up the path to the ordinary, where she knocked on the door. Candlelight gleamed through the cracks in the closed shutter after a second knock; the door opened and she slipped inside. Tears started down her cheeks as soon as she tried to speak. “What is it?” said the widow Jennison, keeper of the establish¬ment. “What on earth is wrong?” “Tobias is in trouble.” Hannah sat at one of the trestle tables. Sniffing back her tears, she told the story of her lover’s misadventure. They’d been planning for several months to break away from their servitude and look for a better situation in the West Indies. He’d taken to theft to raise money for the trip, but his master, the tallow chandler Aaron Tuck, discovered his transgressions, and Tobias went into hiding. “There’s men a-lookin’ for him now,” Hannah said as tears came to her eyes again. “We can’t stay here another week. People are sayin’ dreadful things about us that just ain’t true.” “Where is Tobias now?” Nancy asked. “On the neck somewheres. I’m supposed to meet him at midnight.” The widow touched her friend’s hand. She herself had been in trouble years before, so she understood the errors to which the girl’s turbulent feelings were likely to bring her. “Yes, life must seem a prison to you. I can see why you want to leave.” “We’ve gut to leave!” Hannah said. “Just tonight they arrested Marthy Hubbard. Mr. Ridley may want to use us for an example, too.” Nancy went to the cupboard for a pitcher of cider. “I don’t like what’s happened to Martha either. I’ll help you, but you’ll have to promise to be patient and not make things worse.” “What do you mean?” Hannah looked around the dusky room with a frightened glance. Experience had taught her that her elders often resorted to compromise when they meant to help. “I’m going to talk with Governor Willoughby. Now don’t fret, child. He’ll be more sympathetic than you think. Besides, you don’t have any choice but to wait unless you want to live in the woods. There won’t be a ship headed south till next month.” Hannah frowned and took a quick swallow of cider. The two friends talked for a while longer by the light of an iron betty lamp, then Hannah went outside to look for Tobias. But all her hopes went for naught. The constable’s men found him just before midnight on the slender strip of marsh and pasture that connected the Botolph peninsula to the mainland. Now happy that they would get to bed at a decent hour, the men in the search party brought Tobias to the guard-house on the edge of town, where he sat till dawn on a slat bench, dozing or clutching his head in his hands.

After an enticing erotic performance in the grand ballroom, the Raven King, the Twins, and I proceeded upstairs to the musician’s footsteps. Several mask guards greeted guests at the top of the stairs, before guiding us to an adjoining room to change out of our costumes, which were carefully stored away. A cloakroom assistant directed us to a changing area, where we disrobed. Naked as a jay-bird, each partier was given a number, written in black marker on our ankles as identification for our eventual clothing collection. Two options were provided to the upstairs revelers: either to wear our mask at all times or be blind-folded securely before exploration of the premises was permitted.

Bringing the horse to a stop, Lucetta leaned forward and looked down a well-maintained lane that led directly to what seemed to be some type of a gatehouse, but a gatehouse built to look exactly like a mausoleum, complete with stained-glass windows, stone sculptures on either side of it—not of the expected angels, but of . . . ravens. Turning to Abigail, Lucetta arched a brow. “Should we drive closer?” “I don’t think this could possibly be the lane leading to Bram’s castle,” Abigail said. “I mean, why would anyone build a mausoleum to mark the entrance to their home?” “I have numerous answers to that, but none I’m going to voice until we discover whether or not your grandson resides here. Which, I’m sorry to say, could be a distinct possibility, since the castle’s name is Ravenwood and there are two ravens guarding that building, and . . . if you look over the door, Ravenwood is etched into the stone.” “Oh . . . dear.” Abigail pulled a pair of spectacles out of her pocket, shoved them on, and then looked closely at the building in front of them before immediately pulling the spectacles off again and repocketing them, shuddering ever so slightly as she did so. “Would it be safe to say that your grandson possesses a slightly morbid nature?” Lucetta asked. “Of course not. Bram’s charming, and . . . the ladies find him to be completely delightful, from what I’ve been told—as I do believe I’ve mentioned to you a few times.” Before Lucetta could reply to that, the door to the mausoleum opened with an ominous creak. Abigail grabbed hold of Lucetta’s hand and squeezed it, the squeezing becoming more pronounced as a man stepped through the door—a man who just happened to be carrying a rifle.

The secret Canadian Central Emergency Government Headquarters, known colloquially as the “Diefenbunker,” after Prime Minister John Diefenbaker, had been built beginning in 1959, buried seventy-five feet underground about thirty-five minutes west of Ottawa. Known as CFS (Canadian Forces Station) Carp, the $22 million facility operated under the cover of an innocuous communications base. Next to a small parking lot in Carp, behind barbed wire fences, a small tin shed and a series of antennas were all that appeared aboveground. One of the only hints of its special function was the unit’s crest, dominated by the three-headed dog Cerberus, who according to legend guarded the entrance to the underworld.

The Song of the Swan and the Raven They called themselves poets, They were great grammarians, They spoke very well with their mouths, But, They didn't speak with their hearts, And the princess Sought the Alpine Star, From the North, the South, The East and the West, But they did not find it, From the lands where men, Forgot their Love for War, And learned to love gold more, More than Love itself, Now, they lose wars and win Alms, And sell their Nordic and Mediterranean beauty, To be loved at the Altar of Aphrodite, But Aphrodite, Loved War and married the lame Blacksmith, Who gave her alms (of affection) And from the stolen Rose, From the Daughter of the King of Phoenicia, Taken to the Tropics, From the Sons of Caesar, To Tropical Lands, Was born a Scion of Hades, Who harbored darkness within, But also kept an infinite love, And he Looked at all this, And contemplated so many times, The Face of Medusa, That his gaze turned to Stone, Everything he couldn't see, And what became immobile, Moved everything else, Moved Georgios, Who listened to the soft music, Of Satyrs in Carnival, And blasphemed, Mocked and threw stones at those, Bacchantes, For the wine no longer inebriated, It became juice, Music, like Water, Needs to flow, For Bacchus of this land, Made it his Abode, And banished the other Gods, And said that in the Earthly Eden, There would only be drunkenness and indolence, And everyone was happy, But, they discovered that, Even in Bacchic Lands, One hears the Sad suffering, For in the Festivities, There was no joy, They were masked balls, In which everyone cried, But the masks showed joy, And Mirrors were placed on the walls, Narcissus, however, Refused to see his image, He knew that drowning again, In his own vanity, Would bring back the Apple, The golden apple, And the Goddesses, Would war, And there would be no more peace, In that Constant War, And we were made captives, Of drunkenness, Watched and Hounded, For, The King's Face was Guarded, Cured of Leprosy, But, His disease was Love, The love for those Christians, Who no longer believed in God, The priests who lost Faith, The Daughters of Eve who choked, On the apple, And the sons of Adam, Who in the deepest cave of Erebus, Were bound, And seeing the shadow of distant lights, Were blinded, And even if, Like Argos, They had a hundred eyes, They would see nothing, Beyond what their scant minds, And their scant hearts, Were incapable of Beholding.

My claws would find no purchase in a Rowan who is already broken. When Ravyn’s rigid jaw didn’t ease, the Nightmare grinned. Above rowan and yew, the elm tree stands tall. It waits along borders, a sentry at call. Quiet and guarded and windblown and marred, its bark whispers stories of a boy-Prince once scarred. His voice in Ravyn’s mind went eerily soft. And so, Ravyn Yew, your Elm I won’t touch. His life strays beyond my ravenous clutch. For a kicked pup grows teeth, and teeth sink to bone. I will need him, one day, when I harvest the throne.

The rescue team was to consist of Lord Raza, myself, Tiernan, Sarah, my Star's Guard, Frederick, Aidan, Elder Wasutke, Tristan, Lord Eadan, and his team of Hunters.

One of the other guards starts telling him a story about last night’s drinking debacles that involved a magical brew responsible for giving someone named Himiny uncontrollable glitter flatulence. Yep. Sparkle farts. Apparently, it’s a thing.

Bryce demanded, “And summoning the kristallos these months? The murders?” Micah drawled, “I summoned the kristallos to nudge you both along, making sure it kept just enough out of camera range, knowing its connection to the Horn would lead you toward it. Injecting Tertian, the acolyte, and the temple guard with the synth—letting them rip themselves apart—was also to prompt you. Tertian, to give us an excuse to come to you for this investigation, and the others to keep pointing you toward the Horn. I targeted two people from the temple that were on duty the night Danika stole it.” “And the bombing at the White Raven, with an image of the Horn on the crate? Another nudge?” “Yes, and to raise suspicions that humans were behind everything. I planted bombs throughout the city, in places I thought you might go. When Athalar’s phone location pinged at the club, I knew the gods were helping me along. So I remotely detonated it.” “I could have died.” “Maybe. But I was willing to bet Athalar would shield you. And why not cause a little chaos, to stir more resentment between the humans and Vanir? It would only make it easier to convince others of the wisdom of my plan to end this conflict. Especially at a cost most would deem too high.

The royal guard’s head snaps to me, his furious gaze locking on my face, algae hair flung into his eyes. “Who dares interfere with the crown’s justice?” “I fucking do.

Your Seven are leal men and valiant, but they are men, and there are places men cannot go.” The king could not disagree. A raven flew to Duskendale that very night, commanding the new Lord Darklyn to send to court his bastard half-sister, Jonquil Darke, who had thrilled the smallfolk during the War for the White Cloaks as the mystery knight known as the Serpent in Scarlet. Still in scarlet, she arrived at King’s Landing a few days later, and gladly accepted appointment as the queen’s own sworn shield. In time, she would be known about the realm as the Scarlet Shadow, so closely did she guard her lady.

The rain continued throughout the day. The precipitation was natural and fell in a steady drizzle that cast the land in a gray, depressing hue. Few animals ventured out under the relentless downpour. The storm had been far too long, unpredictable, and dangerous. Around the small cabin in the woods, an uneasiness warned all life forms away from the area. Few humans frequented the deep forest there because of its wild lands, wild animals, and wild legends. In the chamber below the earth, Gregori roused himself several times, always on guard, always aware, asleep or awake, of those around him and the region surrounding them. In his mind he sought the child. She was brave and intelligent, a warm, living creature shedding a glow of light into this unrelenting darkness. His silver eyes pierced the veil of sleep to stare up at the dirt above his head. He was so close to turning, far closer than either Raven or Mikhail suspected. He was holding on by his fingernails. All feeling had left him so long ago that he could not remember warmth or happiness. He had only the power of the kill and his memories of Mikhail’s friendship to keep him going. He turned his head to look at Raven’s slight form. You must live, small one. You must live to save our race, to save all of mankind. There is no one alive on this earth who could stop me. Live for me, for your parents. Something stirred in his mind. Shocked that an unborn child could exhibit such power and intelligence, he nonetheless felt its presence, tiny, wavering, unsure. All the same the being was there, and he latched on to it, sheltered it close to his heart for a long while before he reluctantly allowed himself to sleep again.

Earth, the ferocious hyena. Air, the cunning raven. Fire, the regal lion. Water, the mighty polar bear. She created the witches to guard over the Spirit element, and together they work in harmony to keep our world safe.

You are the only person on this planet I have given my allegiance to. You have always had my loyalty. I count you as my family and my friend. Until your woman or some other gives me my lifemate, you are the only person standing between the darkness and me. Gregori would never have admitted such a thing unless he considered the situation a dire emergency. He was giving Mikhail the only reason he could to reassure Mikhail that he could be trusted. Affection and regret welled up, mingled. Thank you, Gregori, I am in your debt. I intend you to be the father of my lifemate. There was a faint note in his voice, something Mikhail could not name, as though Gregori had already ensured that he would get his wish. I have the feeling Raven’s daughter would be more than a handful. Mikhail tested his intuition. I have no doubt I am up to the challenge. Gregori’s reply was purposely vague. I will send your lifemate to the sleep of our people so that she will no longer be tormented by her human limits. Gregori’s soft command was clear, imperious, impossible to ignore. Raven’s breath left her body in a soft sigh. Her heart slowed, missed a beat, ceased. Her mind was closed to the yawning terror, her body open to the healing power of the rich soil. Sleep now, Mikhail, I will know if you are disturbed. You do not have to guard me, Gregori. You have done much for our people, things they will never know. I can never repay my debt to you. I can do no other, Mikhail, nor would I want to. Gregori withdrew.

Before anything else, Raven must be safe and guarded while we take care of this problem,” Mikhail said abruptly. “Your woman is very fragile,” Gregori warned softly. “Bring her to the surface and clothe her before I awaken her.” Mikhail nodded. Gregori clearly read his intentions. There was no way he would have her awaken in what seemed to her a cold grave. Jacques and Gregori moved into the forest to give Mikhail privacy. Only after Raven was safe in his arms did Mikhail think to add her human American garb. He fashioned blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, made of natural fibers, easy for a Carpathian to manipulate. Gregori. Awaken her now.

If she was mine, I would guard her so close, nothing would have a chance to harm her. Have you considered that she could carry the lifemate to one of us? Perhaps my lifemate? Do not take chances with her just to give her the illusion of freedom. None of us are truly free, he warned. Jacques sent them both a look of reprimand and extended his hand to Raven with Old World gallantry. She took it and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Mikhail rose beside her, his arm sweeping her into the shelter of his body. She needed the contact, the closeness, the solid reality of his hard frame. Greogir, the instant bodyguard, scanned the air, the ground, moving fast as he did so. His body continually blocked the prince of their people and his lifemate from any possible threat. The three imposing figures surrounded the smaller one, moving as a unit, an honor guard, their paces slow and leisurely, their minds serene, with no hint of impatience or sign of their desire to get on to the night’s work. Hunger gnawed at Mikhail, but that too was kept at bay. When her mind touched his, Raven felt only love and concern, the desire to please her. Raven enjoyed the feel of the soft leaves under her feet as they moved through the forest. She lifted her face to embrace the wind, inhaled deeply to take in every secret the breeze could carry and would divulge. Every insect, every rustle in the underbrush, every separate sway of a branch, lightened the terrible dread in her heart, pushed the fearful memories a little farther away. “I can take them away completely,” Mikhail offered gently. Raven flashed him a small smile, meant to reassure. Her body moved briefly against his. She was well aware of what a temptation that had been for him, how the other two males thought him insane for not taking the choice from her. “You know I prefer to keep my memories. All of them.” Mikhail nodded, leaned over, and brushed a kiss over her temple. He felt the weight of Gregori’s pale gaze, his blatant disapproval. He knew he would be facing even more objections when they were alone. Carpathian males never allowed their mates to suffer needlessly. Only Gregori would dare to question or challenge the decisions of his prince. Mikhail usually welcomed the rare clashes. This time he had no way of defending his actions, at least not in a way Gregori would understand. Mikhail just knew Raven needed this semblance of normalcy and the time to come to grips with everything that had happened in her own way.

Curiosity tumbles through me like a windswept plant with no roots. I wonder how Commander Rip got here, what his purpose is. Is he simply King Ravinger’s hired guard dog, put out on a leash to snap and snarl at enemies? Or does he have another agenda?