Page 13 of The Prophecy
Chapter Six
Raven had spent the night and the following day going over the meeting. Maybe it had all been a figment of her imagination.
Did she want that to be true? Did she want Kael Hunter with his offer of freedom to be nothing more than something conjured up from a damaged mind?
And could her father really be alive? All these years believing he was dead. Would her life have been different if she’d known he lived? Would the hope have remained with her longer? Helped her through the long years.
But convinced of his death, she had given up hope a long time ago. Now it scratched at her insides, clawed at her mind. Told her maybe she didn’t have to die. That there could be a future for her.
All she had to do was believe in Kael Hunter.
And let him have sex with her.
Then somehow find a way to live with the guilt and the shame. She couldn’t do it.
Be strong, Raven.
There was that voice again. Another figment of her deranged mind?
Probably.
She got to her feet and paced the few steps her chain would allow her. Then back. Over and over, trying to fight the frustration, until she sank to her knees again.
Would he return? The time dragged even more than usual, the darkness a solid thing. She just wanted it over with now. An end to her existence.
Didn’t she?
She had no idea how long it had been before she sensed a faint movement in the room, and then the light appeared. And there he was.
For long moments she just stared. He was dressed the same as his last visit, though unlike hers, his clothes appeared clean. Had he been back to the Council? Had he seen her father? Her mind filled with questions, but she bit her lip to keep them inside until she tasted the sharp, metallic tang of her own blood.
“Are you here to finish this?” she asked. One way or another.
“No. We’re still waiting for word from the Council that the attacking force is in place. I just wanted to see you again, so you’d know what’s happening.” He took a step closer and held something out to her. “And I brought you a present. From your father.” A small, black box tied with a red ribbon.
“Oh.” Reaching out a hand, she took the box, her fingers fumbling as she pulled at the ribbon. She sat back on her heels, then slowly raised the lid. Inside was a silver locket on a black velvet ribbon. Her eyes pricked as she stared at it for long moments, then picked it up, turned it in her hands. It was circular and engraved with an intricate design. She ran her fingers over the surface, then found the latch at the side, pressed, and it sprang open. Inside was the picture of a woman. A stranger.
“Your mother,” Kael said.
“I didn’t know he had a picture. He never showed it to me before…”
“He didn’t. He asked your aunt.”
“My aunt?” Her father had rarely spoken of her mother’s sisters. She knew there had been bad feelings between them.
“He also says to please come back to him. Whatever you’ve done—it’s not your fault, and there is nothing to forgive.”
The words made her chest ache. She wanted to believe them. She just wasn’t sure they were true.
She studied the picture; the woman was beautiful, with blond hair, a pointed chin, and high cheekbones. There was nothing of Raven in there. Except for the eyes, silver and rimmed with black.
“You have her eyes,” Kael murmured.
“Witch’s eyes? That’s what my father always said.” She smiled. “It never sounded like a compliment.”
“No, your father has no reason to love the witches, but he wanted you to have a picture. To show you what she was like.”
“Thank you.”
