Chapter 35

Raven

I woke up the next morning still feeling that same anger.

The events of the previous night felt like a thorn stuck in my side. My phone call with my father should have made me happy, relieved even. I should have been over the moon to hear his voice and to know that my affairs were in good hands.

But instead, I just kept thinking about Nathan and Dani. How two of the people I once trusted most in the world had not only utterly betrayed me, but were now engaged. Publicly. Less than two weeks after the breakup.

I made my way to the training grounds early that morning, grabbing a bow and some arrows from the shed. The grounds were practically pitch black, the sun still hidden behind the horizon, but the methodical thwack of the arrows against the training dummy soothed me more than I ever thought it would.

By the time the others arrived, I had already been training by myself for nearly an hour—until the sun touched the sky and the wound in my hand slightly reopened, staining the bandage red once again.

“Raven?” Eric’s confused voice reached my ears first. “You’re here early.”

I jerked my head up from the training dummy, only just now realizing that it was riddled with arrows piercing its entire body. But I didn’t stop shooting as I saw the four of them standing there. I just grunted something resembling ‘good morning’ and nocked another arrow.

If Neil and the others took offense to my gruff attitude that morning, they didn’t show it. They just let me train archery until I was out of arrows, Ember occasionally giving me pointers, and then we moved to knife practice. Eric moved to the sparring ring with me.

After a few surprisingly deft maneuvers, I dropped to a crouch, swept one leg under Eric, and knocked him to the ground. A moment later, I was on top of him, one knife pressed to his throat.

“Goddess above,” Eric said, chest heaving as he held his hands up in surrender. “What happened to you overnight?”

I didn’t answer that. I just jumped to my feet and snapped, “Again,” before slipping back into a fighting stance.

From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Neil. He was standing off to the side with his arms crossed, watching me with a newfound intensity. He remained silent, but I could feel his eyes following me as I moved.

Eventually, though, I ran out of steam and Eric called an end to our session. I grabbed a nearby water skin with a huff and trudged over to a nearby bench, chugging greedily.

Neil appeared in front of me, his shadow blocking the sunlight.

“You’re blocking my sun,” I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“You have gotten better,” he said, ignoring me. “although you were more aggressive than usual today.”

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and shrugged. “I woke up feeling motivated,” I replied, which wasn’t actually a lie. Where that motivation came from, however… Well, I think he could figure it out on his own, at least to an extent.

Neil didn’t push for more. He just nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a second longer than usual before shifting the conversation. “The village needs help rebuilding after the attack. As a Lycan noblewoman and the betrothed to the prince, it’s expected that you make an appearance.”

The water caught in my throat, and I nearly choked. “Rebuilding?” I echoed, wiping my mouth. “You mean… with actual tools?”

“Yes, Raven. With hammers and nails.”

I stared at him, my mind flashing back to the handful of times my father had tried to teach me anything remotely related to building or fixing things growing up. I’d always found an excuse to slip away—usually claiming that I hurt myself or that I had my period.

“I’m not exactly handy,” I admitted.

Neil just shrugged and turned away. “Be ready by midday. We’ll all go together.”

The Lycan prince left before I could protest, and I had a feeling that nothing I said would make a difference anyway. So an hour later, I found myself in the village, surrounded by the sounds of hammering, sawing, and shouting.

The damage from the rogue attack was worse than I had realized. Several houses had been reduced to rubble, only the charred remains of their foundations left. Some of the structures had been partially rebuilt, with new beams and wooden planks propped up as villagers worked to restore what they’d lost. But there was a lot more to do.

What struck me the most wasn’t the destruction, though—it was how the Lycan villagers worked together. Despite everything, there was a sort of energy in the air, a sense of unity. People passed tools and materials between one another like they had been doing this for years, children running between the adults with small hammers or nails, eager to help.

And at the center of it all was Neil.

I watched him for a moment, almost transfixed by the way he moved through the crowd, offering help where it was needed and directing the villagers. He lifted beams with ease, his tanned muscles rippling, but what really caught my attention was how the villagers looked at him. Not with fear or deference, but with admiration and familiarity.

As I watched, a small girl darted out of the crowd, dragging along a piece of wood that looked far too big for her. “Prince Neil!” she called out. “Is this the right one?”

Neil knelt beside her, inspecting the wood closely. “That’s perfect, Emma,” he said, ruffling her honey-golden head of hair. “Take it to your father, okay?”

“Okay!”

The girl beamed, her face lighting up as if she had just been handed a trophy, and she scampered off. Despite myself, I found my lips twitching into a small smile.

“He’s good with them, isn’t he?”

Ember’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to see her standing beside me, fiddling with a pile of roofing shingles. The way she carefully glanced at Neil made something twist in my chest.

“Yeah,” I agreed, watching as Neil moved to lift another beam. “He is.”

An idea sparked in my mind then—a little reckless, maybe, but it was a distraction, and I needed as many distractions as I could get today. Neil was headed our way, so the timing was perfect.

I bent down and picked up a long plank of wood, pretending to struggle with its weight. “Hey, Ember, could you give me a hand with this?”

Rolling her eyes, Ember moved to help me and grabbed one end of the plank. And just as Neil walked past us, I ‘accidentally’ stumbled forward, sending the plank swinging toward her. Ember yelped in surprise, staggering backward—and right into Neil’s arms.

The look on her face was priceless. For a split second, time seemed to freeze. Neil’s hands grabbed her waist, his brow furrowing as she blinked up at him, wide-eyed and blushing furiously.

“I… I’m sorry,” Ember stammered, her voice a little too high-pitched as she scrambled to right herself. In her panic, she managed to step on Neil’s foot, causing him to wince.

“Ember, what in the hells has gotten into you?” Neil grunted, shaking off his foot. “Did you get into the ale already?”

“No, I’m just—Oh, look at that over there. I should go, uh… Handle that.” Ember squeaked out an excuse, her cheeks now an impressive shade of red as she all but fled the scene.

I watched her retreat, holding back a smirk. Maybe my little matchmaking scheme didn’t go quite as planned, but there was more where that came from.

Suddenly, a sound from behind me made me turn. Castor was leaning against a nearby post, chewing on a stalk of yellow grass as he shook his head in amusement. Eric was standing beside him, gripping the side of a half-built hut to steady himself, his face red as he tried to hold in his laughter.

Seeing them made my face split into a grin. And soon enough, I was laughing, too.