All Chapters of The Reaver Chronicles: Raphael (Book 2): Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

A growing sense of unease settled in, like a whisper in the darkness, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off-kilter. At first, I wondered if I was losing my grip on reality, but I pushed the thought aside. I knew I wasn't going crazy. What I was, however, was on edge. The tension had been building for a while, and I'd attributed it to being stuck in this forsaken place with the Necromancers. Their very presence seemed to crawl under my skin. But if I was honest with myself, there was another factor at play, the lingering sexual tension. Giving up my plaything had been a mistake, one I was now regretting. The memory of her touch, her submission, still lingered, a tantalizing whisper in my mind. Haven's image flashed through my mind, and my jaw clenched in frustration. She was a masterful tease, always dancing just out of reach, leaving me wanting more. But as I pondered our interactions, a nagging thought crept in. What if there was more to it than just a sim

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the landscape, I found myself thinking about Roxy. Earlier, I had reached out to Atreyu through a mind link, inquiring about her whereabouts. He had informed me that she was currently sitting alone at a diner just a stone's throw from my house. My curiosity piqued, I decided to swing by the diner and check in on her myself. The prospect of "accidentally" running into Roxy at the diner brought a spark of excitement to my otherwise tumultuous day. I had no intention of making it seem like I was following her, instead opting for a more casual, coincidental encounter. As I approached the diner, Axel stirred to life, his interest piqued at the prospect of seeing his chosen mate again. I couldn't deny that my mind was still reeling from the events with Marina, and the distraction of seeing Roxy again was more than welcome. I solidified my form a block away from the diner, opting to walk the remaining dista

I stood there, frozen in awe, as the surreal landscape of the dreamwalk unfolded before me. Yet, despite knowing that this realm was prone to distortions, I was still utterly astonished by what I saw. The girl who came into view as I rounded the corner was unmistakably Haven, the same fiery spirit I remembered, with her wild red hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of flames, and her deep green eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. But it was her essence that shocked me to my core. The Haven I knew was a Necromancer, a wielder of dark magic. Yet, in this dreamwalk, she was something entirely different. She was a Forsaken, a being of shadow and darkness, forged from the very essence of the underworld. The Forsaken, an ancient and revered clan of old, were said to possess the extraordinary ability to wield absolute control over the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. Their mastery was rumored to be unparalleled, allowing them to manipulate the very fabric o

Raphael held a special place in my heart, a distinction that was not solely due to the mark he had left on my skin. I had deliberately chosen him to be the first Reaver to mark me, drawn to the complex depths of his character. Beneath his tough exterior, I had sensed a deep-seated vulnerability, a pain that he kept hidden from the world. His past was marred by tragedy, a brutal murder that had claimed the lives of his family, leaving him shattered and broken. The memory of his wife and three-year-old twin boys, taken from him in a senseless act of violence, still lingered, a wound that would never fully heal. Despite the overwhelming grief that threatened to consume him, Raphael had managed to present a stoic exterior to the world, a façade that hid the true extent of his suffering. But I had seen beyond the mask, sensing the depth of his pain when I first approached him. And when I delved into his memories, the true extent of his anguish was revealed, leaving an indelible mark o

I dissolved into the shadows, reappearing instantly in the nearby closet, my ears straining to catch the conversation that was about to unfold. Blaze's voice, laced with frustration, echoed through the room as he called out to Haven. "Haven, baby, come here." The door creaked shut behind him, and I could sense the tension emanating from him. Haven, of course, obeyed, her footsteps quiet as she approached Blaze. He enveloped her in his arms, holding her close as if seeking comfort. The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with unspoken emotions, as Blaze simply held Haven, his frustration and concern simmering just below the surface. I watched, hidden in the closet, my mind racing with questions and suspicions. As I watched from the closet, Blaze's lips brushed against Haven's, a soft, gentle kiss that seemed to speak volumes about his feelings for her. But I felt a surge of indignation on Haven's behalf, my anger simmering just below the surface. How dare he? I though