CRAVES

THE RAVEN RING

Morning came quietly.

Amelia woke with one thought already waiting for her.

The black fabric.

She had left it on the kitchen table before going to bed, convinced that sleeping on the problem would make it seem less frightening by morning.

It hadn't.

The little strip of fabric still lay exactly where she'd left it.

She sat at the edge of the bed for a while, staring at it from across the room.

The silver raven caught the first light coming through the curtains.

She finally got up.

The apartment was cold.

She slipped her feet into slippers and walked into the kitchen, stopping beside the table.

She didn't touch the fabric.

Instead, she reached for her phone.

There was still no message from the unknown number.

She opened her contacts.

Scrolled.

Stopped.

There was no Bryan.

She stared at the empty search bar.

Then locked the phone again.

Ridiculous.

She had known him for weeks, lived with him, signed a marriage contract with him, and somehow still didn't have his number.

She almost laughed at herself.

Then her eyes returned to the fabric.

The laughter disappeared.

She picked it up carefully.

The raven was embroidered with fine silver thread.

It looked expensive.

Old.

Not something someone had picked up at a random shop.

She turned it over.

Nothing.

No initials.

No explanation.

Just the bird.

She placed it back down.

Then she noticed something else.

A tiny smear of dark red stained the edge of the fabric.

Her stomach tightened.

She stepped away from the table.

The memory of Bryan's reaction when she had first seen his ring came back to her.

The raven.

The same symbol.

She needed answers.

And there was only one person who could give them to her.

...

Ravenwood Manor had been awake for hours.

Servants moved through the corridors more quietly than usual.

Doors opened and closed.

Footsteps passed beneath the tall arches.

The atmosphere had changed.

Nobody said why.

Nobody needed to.

Bryan stood at the long dining table while six members of his household waited around it.

Cassian stood at his right.

Benedict remained near the fireplace.

The others kept their eyes lowered.

On the table lay the raven ring.

Bryan looked at each person in turn.

"Who has access to the family crest?"

No one answered immediately.

A woman seated near the end of the table finally lifted her eyes.

"Every member of the inner household."

Bryan nodded.

"Who has access to the old vault?"

Silence.

Cassian answered.

"Only you, me and Benedict."

Bryan's gaze shifted toward the butler.

Benedict didn't flinch.

He simply inclined his head.

Bryan looked back at the ring.

"Then someone copied it."

One of the younger vampires shifted uncomfortably.

"Could it have been taken from an old document?"

"Possibly."

Bryan's voice remained calm.

"Find out."

The order was simple.

The young vampire nodded.

Bryan picked up the ring.

His thumb brushed over the raven.

"There is one more thing."

Everyone waited.

"From now on, nobody approaches Amelia without my permission."

Cassian's eyes moved toward him.

Bryan noticed.

He didn't explain.

He didn't have to.

The room slowly emptied.

Only Cassian and Benedict remained.

Benedict approached the table.

"You are becoming protective."

Bryan looked at him.

The old butler's expression was neutral.

Almost innocent.

Bryan placed the ring back on the table.

"She's my wife."

"For one year."

Bryan's gaze sharpened.

Benedict's mouth twitched.

"Of course."

He turned away before the expression could become a smile.

Bryan watched him leave.

Then looked toward the window.

One year.

That was the agreement.

One year.

No more.

He had repeated those words to himself since the contract began.

They were supposed to keep everything simple.

They weren't working anymore.

...

Amelia arrived at the café early.

The owner noticed immediately.

He looked at her face.

Then at the little plant tucked beneath her arm.

Then back at her.

She gave him a small smile.

A silent reassurance.

He accepted it.

She placed the jasmine beside the register.

The white flowers Bryan had given her the previous night sat in a jar beside it.

The combination made her think of him again.

She tried not to.

It lasted less than a minute.

The morning passed without incident.

No strange messages.

No unfamiliar faces lingering outside.

No black car.

Nothing.

By midday, her shoulders had finally relaxed.

She was carrying two cups toward a table when the bell above the entrance rang.

She looked up.

Bryan walked inside.

The conversation around the café seemed to soften.

Not because anyone knew who he was.

Because he carried himself differently.

Dark coat.

Black shirt.

A watch that probably cost more than everything inside the café combined.

He looked out of place among the small tables and handwritten menus.

His eyes found Amelia immediately.

Something in his face softened.

So quickly that she almost wondered if she'd imagined it.

He approached.

She looked at the clock.

"It's barely noon."

He glanced at it.

"Is that a problem?"

She shook her head.

He took the empty chair at the corner table.

The same one she'd noticed him using before.

She walked over with a menu.

He didn't take it.

"Coffee."

She nodded.

Then paused.

"Anything else?"

His gaze remained on her.

"No."

She turned.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

She didn't see it.

...

The coffee arrived a few minutes later.

Bryan didn't touch it.

Amelia noticed.

"You don't like it?"

"I do."

"Then why aren't you drinking it?"

He looked at the cup.

Then at her.

"I'm waiting."

"For what?"

He glanced toward the clock.

"You."

She stared at him.

His expression remained perfectly serious.

She looked away before he could see the smile forming on her face.

"I'm working."

"I know."

"Then why are you waiting for me?"

His fingers rested loosely around the cup.

"Because I came to see you."

She stopped.

There was nothing dramatic in his voice.

No flirtatious smile.

No attempt to make the words sound important.

He had simply said them.

Her heartbeat changed.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You could have called."

A pause.

"I don't have your number."

She blinked.

Neither of them spoke.

Then she laughed.

It was quiet at first.

Then she covered her mouth, trying to stop it.

Bryan watched her.

The smallest smile appeared on his face.

She reached for her phone.

"Give me yours."

He did.

She typed the number into her contacts.

When she looked at the screen, her thumb hovered over the name.

"What should I save you as?"

He looked amused.

"Bryan."

"That's boring."

"It's my name."

She smiled.

"Fine."

She saved it.

Then sent him a message.

A second later, his phone vibrated.

He looked at the screen.

Her name appeared there.

For some reason, the sight held his attention longer than it should have.

He locked the phone.

She returned to work.

Bryan finally took a sip of his coffee.

He hated it.

He drank the entire cup anyway.

...

Late afternoon arrived.

The café grew quieter.

Amelia was arranging the flowers when Bryan's phone vibrated.

His expression changed as he read the message.

He stood.

She looked over.

"Something wrong?"

He slipped the phone into his pocket.

"No."

She studied him.

He walked toward her.

Then stopped.

His gaze fell to the flowers.

"These are beautiful."

She smiled.

"You bought them."

"I remember."

A tiny laugh escaped her.

Bryan reached toward one of the flowers.

His fingers brushed the petals.

Then he looked at her.

For a moment, something passed silently between them.

She didn't know what it was.

Neither did he.

But it was becoming harder to pretend there was nothing there.

His phone vibrated again.

This time, his jaw tightened.

He looked at the screen.

A photograph.

Amelia's apartment building.

Taken from across the street.

Beneath it were five words.

You should have stayed away.

Bryan's face became completely still.

He locked the phone.

She noticed.

"What happened?"

He looked at her.

For a moment, he considered lying.

Then his gaze moved toward the windows.

"No one is taking you home tonight."

Her smile disappeared.

"Why?"

He reached for her bag.

She didn't resist.

He placed it over his shoulder.

Then offered his hand.

She stared at it.

He waited.

After a moment, she placed her hand in his.

His fingers closed around hers.

Warm.

Steady.

Protective.

He led her toward the back door.

She followed without another question.

Outside, the evening had already begun to darken.

A black car waited at the curb.

Bryan opened the passenger door.

Before she climbed inside, she looked up at him.

"Are you going to tell me what's happening?"

His eyes met hers.

"Yes."

"When?"

His hand rested lightly against the top of the door.

"When I know exactly who I'm protecting you from."

She climbed into the car.

Bryan closed the door.

For several seconds, he stood beside it.

His face was calm.

But his eyes had changed.

Someone had threatened her again.

And this time, they had made one mistake.

They had given Bryan a reason to stop waiting.