All Chapters of The Reaver Chronicles: Raphael (Book 2): Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Ramses' affinity for New Orleans was well-known, and it wasn't surprising that he'd chosen to make his home in this enchanting city. The air was alive with the pulse of magic, and the streets seemed to whisper ancient secrets to those who listened. The Witches of New Orleans, with their rich history and potent spells, were a major draw for Ramses. Everyone knew that New Orleans was a hub of mystical energy, and the Witches were the guardians of that power. Their presence was woven into the fabric of the city, and Ramses had always been fascinated by their mysterious and often misunderstood world. As we stepped through the bronze front gate, I couldn't help but notice the striking similarity between Ramses' entrance and our own. The large, intricate sun that adorned his gate was a familiar sight, echoing the symbolic motifs that marked each of our own homes. The sun, with its radiant rays and majestic presence, was a powerful emblem that resonated deeply with my brother’s cho

As I settled in beside her on the couch, she turned to me with an innocent smile, asking, "How was your day?" I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. My day had been nothing short of extraordinary, and I wasn't certain how she would react to the truth. Being held captive in a centuries-old Necromancer castle by Cryomancers who turned out to be old acquaintances wasn't exactly the kind of thing you shared with someone you cared about, at least not without some trepidation. "Would you really like to know?" I asked, testing the waters. Her response was immediate, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest. "Of course I do, why wouldn't I?" Well, I thought to myself, I suppose it's time to gauge just how much she can handle. I began to recount the events of my day, carefully observing her expression to ensure she was handling the information okay. "Well, the day started out with Raziel informing me that Ramses was missing. No one could mind link him," I explained, pausing to gaug

The moment Raphael's piercing silver gaze met mine, I knew he saw right through the facade. His eyes, those windows to his soul, betrayed a flicker of hurt, swiftly followed by a raging inferno of anger. It wasn't just any anger, but a deep-seated, all-consuming fury that seemed to burn hotter with each passing second. And yet, his chiseled features remained impassive, a mask of calm that belied the turbulent storm brewing within. But his eyes, oh, his eyes told a different story, a story of betrayal, of rage, and of a depth of emotion that left me breathless. "How was your Coven business?" I asked, the words feeling hollow as they left my lips. It wasn't what I wanted to say, but I had no control over my actions. I was trapped, forced to pretend that everything was fine. Raphael's eyes seemed to bore into mine, and I knew he could see the truth. He didn't respond, instead pulling me into a tight embrace. The familiar sensation of lightning and fire coursed through me, a ca

Atreyu materialized in the kitchen, his sudden appearance a brief interruption to the warm domestic scene unfolding before him. Roxy, poised with a serving spoon in hand, offered him a courteous smile. "Are you hungry, Atreyu?" she asked. He declined politely, his eyes flicking to me before returning to Roxy. "Oh no, thank you though, I'm just fine." I, meanwhile, remained still, my gaze fixed on Roxy as she set a plate in front of me. The savory aromas wafting from the dish were enticing, but my appetite had vanished, replaced by a growing sense of unease. I turned my attention to Atreyu, my voice firm and commanding. "I need to interrogate the Necromancer. I plan to spend considerable time down there, extracting every last detail from her. I require you to stay with Roxy while I'm away. Regardless of what she wants to do or where she wants to go, I need you by her side. Understood?" Atreyu's response was immediate and respectful. "Yes, sir." I nodded curtly, my mind

As I emerged from the tangled web of my nightmares, I clung to the desperate hope that it had all been just a terrible dream. But the harsh reality was quick to reassert itself, as tangible as Raphael's presence beside me. When he stirred awake, I attempted to recount the events of the previous night, to warn him of the sinister forces that lurked in the shadows. But instead of the urgent words I intended to speak, a cheerful "good morning" tumbled forth, accompanied by a warm, betraying smile. I was consumed by frustration, feeling as though I was trapped in a living nightmare, my body hijacked by some malevolent force that refused to relinquish its hold. Every attempt I made to broach the subject of the mysterious man or the horrors I had endured was met with a similar, maddening response, as though I was no longer in control of my own actions. As the morning wore on, I made attempt after futile attempt to convey the events of the previous night to Raphael, but every effor