Page 139 of The Moonborn's Curse
Clear as a bell, dropped like a brick into her mind:
"Gods, that's an arse. How I'd like to bend that over the..."
Her eyes widened—just slightly.
Too much.
She winced internally and tried to shut the channel off, mentally fumbling with the gift like someone slamming a radio dial to mute.
Some things were better left unheard. Griff's gaze didn't waver.
Seren suppressed a smile.
"You'll do," he muttered, without really looking at her. "Talk to Rhea. She'll train you. Don't steal. Don't mouth off. Don't get eaten."
"Noted," she said, standing.
"And don't go near Ryn's stash of cherry bourbon. She'll kill you slow."
Which is when she met her.
Ravaryn.
Tall—almost six feet—with raven-black hair pulled into messy braid, silver piercings threading up both ears and through her septum. A single white streak cut through her fringe like lightning on a stormy night.
She wore a black tank that showed off a full sleeve of black-and-grey tattoos: wolves, roses, runes, and the skeletal wing of a raven perched on her wrist on her left arm and forearm. A finely drawn open eye looked out at the world, unblinking from the shoulder of her otherwise pristine right arm. Her skin was creamy white, with pale blue eyes sharp and unreadable, lined in kohl that made her stare feel like a challenge.
"Another stray," she muttered. "Perfect."
"My name is Seren," she offered.
Ravaryn just grunted. "Try to keep up."
Then there was Saryana—"Call me Ana."
She was the warmth to Ravaryn's shadow. Golden-skinned and curvy in all the ways Seren wasn't, with glossy dark-gold hair and whisky eyes that sparkled with mischief. Her smile could melt ice, and her voice was always half a purr, half a smirk.
"Oh, look at you," she said, looking Seren up and down with a grin. "You're like a baby fawn lost in the wolf den."
Seren blinked. "I'm tougher than I look."
Ana winked. "Good. You'll need it. The regulars love fresh blood."
Then she leaned in, whispering, "Don't worry. I'll teach you the good tricks. Like which booth lets you flirt your way to triple tips. And which one to avoid unless you want to hear a very passionate debate about tail lengths."
Seren snorted. "Seriously?"
"Dead serious," Ana said with mock solemnity before her grin returned. "Also, word of advice? Show a little more boob. Cleavage is a currency in this place. Doesn't have to be slutty—just... generous."
Seren blushed, glancing down at her hoodie.
Ana rolled her eyes fondly. "Honey, you're built better than you think. Stop hiding it like you're smuggling contraband."
From the other side of the room, Ravaryn, who had clearly heard everything, flipped them off without turning around.
"See?" Ana grinned. "She approves."
Chapter 52
