Page 57 of Reaper’s Curse

And now I was thinking about Raven. Shit.

Maybe I needed to head down to the pub and get drunk. Or…my eyes blinked wide. Remembering the crow-delivered message I’d received moments before jumping into the ring with Raven and the Killian, I pulled the scrolled letter from my thigh pocket.

My throat immediately thickened.

Maybe, instead of getting drunk, I’d read her message…and then, quite possibly, get drunk after. Maybe.

With my nerves strung too tight and my emotions warring in an arena unfamiliar to me, I settled into a seated position with my back pressed against the short surrounding rise of the rooftop and unrolled Raven’s correspondence.

Hello Curse Chaser,

Thank you for alleviating my many concerns. They have been weighing heavily upon me these past few days. I had begun to fear the worst.

Her many concerns? Weighing heavily upon her? Was I reading too much into her words? Given that they were part of the same small team tasked with an outrageous reap, unease would be understandable. But many and weighted?

I was clearly reading too much into her words. I continued with the rest of her message.

My perch, as you so called it, is a (hopefully) temporary necessity. It is not a gilded cage, and it does not confine me. Although, it does busy my days…for now.

I wonder if these “things” you say we must discuss should cause me to worry? I shall find you as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Black Bird

Not a prisoner. That was good. Although I didn’t know what to make of the way the palace guards had pulled her off the street earlier. Glad they did, though, given what had happened next.

In fact, with all that had transpired—the appearance of the wicked bastard and…that other thing, our exchange…I preferred that she not try to meet me somewhere in the citadel but that she remained safe behind the palace walls.

With Winter.

Was the prince responsible for whatever had been ailing Raven?

A snarl erupted in my throat.

Still safer, I reasoned with myself.

We could correspond via crow delivery. That way she would be protected from experimenting evil torturers and me. At least until I stopped dwelling on the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin, the heat between her…

I groaned, then I slipped free a pencil and blank page I’d taken to keeping on my person for this very reason. Crow messaging with Raven.

After a moment of thought and composition, I dragged my teeth over my lower lip and began to write.

Hello Wild Black Bird,

And I use that term with the utmost respect. You were wild in the most unexpected and exciting way. I cannot recall any exercise or enthusiasm ever leading my heart to pound with such excess.

I wonder where things might have led had you not⁠—

Ignore that last bit.

Are you all right? It is now my concern that is weighted greater than I care to admit. And yet, apparently, I am. Admitting. (Insert my sigh here.)

Per the circumstances: I recommend you remain near the safety of your new perch…for now. Walls can provide protection. Dangers are lurking in the surrounding spaces, and our eldest buzzard has been called upon by the al Sada. Our numbers have changed.

I rubbed my chin between my thumb and forefinger. She would know what the al Sada was, wouldn’t she? The death owl was part of our required learning, as another messenger to the god of death and the god of the underworld. Less common than the crows and ravens, but more specialized.

I pursed my lips and nodded. She would understand. I had faith she would.