Roses and Vipers

The Wolf in the Cage

Raven's world tilted, crashing in on itself, until all she could see — could feel — was him. The monster who had ripped her mother from her arms. The man whose laughter had haunted her nightmares.

Her breath hitched, her body trembling, but it wasn't fear coursing through her veins anymore. It was fire.

Her father's voice echoed in her head, gravelly and certain: One day, Raven, you'll need to put fear aside. You'll need to stand tall. You are my daughter. You are Black Rose blood. And blood never forgets.

Her fingers curled against the ropes, nails biting into her palms until she felt the sting of skin breaking. She wanted the pain- it fed her fury.

The girl Jaxon had known — the one who laughed at his jokes, who sketched quietly beneath trees, who let herself hope to be normal — slipped away like a shadow at dawn.

In her place rose the heir of the Roses. The girl trained to survive, to outthink, to outlast. The one who carried her father's vengeance in her bones.

Her eyes locked on Jaxon's father, burning so sharp it almost tasted metallic on her tongue. She didn't blink, didn't flinch, didn't cower.

You took her from me. And one day, I will take everything from you.

Her body shook with the force of it, her rage spilling out, visible to everyone in the room. The Vipers seered, muttering to each other, not one of them dared to step closer. Not while her eyes blazed like that — two shards of molten fury staring down the devil himself.

Jaxon saw it.

His chest tightened painfully as he looked at her — not the Raven he thought he knew, but someone harder, sharper, dangerous. And yet... heartbreakingly beautiful in her cage. He could almost feel the distance stretching between them, tearing at him like claws.

"Raven..." His voice was low, strained, almost pleading.

Her eyes snapped to his, and for a heartbeat he saw it — the girl he'd held close. The girl who sketched his face like she couldn't stop herself. But then her gaze hardened again, and he understood: she wasn't his Raven anymore. She was the Roses' heir.

A predator in her cage.

The air crackled. The vipers waited for an order. Jaxon's mother smirked knowingly. And his father stood proud, oblivious to the storm he had just unleashed in the bound before him.

Raven clenched her jaw, the fury inside her settling like coals-hot, waiting. She couldn't strike now. But she would.

And when she did, she swore to herself, she'd make Jaxon's father bleed.