Fancy Heart My Royal Love

The night I should’ve died began with a whisper.

Not a scream. Not a bang. Just… a voice. Low. Male. Right behind me.

“Raven.”

I turned fast—too fast—my boots slipping on the moss-slick forest floor. No one was there. Just trees. Cold. Watching. Too still. The full moon hung above like an open eye, bleeding silver down on the world.

I shouldn’t have been out here. The GPS had cut out miles ago. The invitation—the one that showed up on my twenty-first birthday with no return address, just my real name, Raven Blackthorn—led me to a half-dead road, a bus stop, and now… this.

“Come home,” the letter had said. “Your blood remembers.”

What blood? I was a foster kid, a nobody with too many case files and not enough answers. But standing in that forest, heart slamming against my ribs, I felt it. A pull. Like the earth itself was calling me by name.

Something moved up ahead. Fast. Quiet.

I froze.

Another whisper.

Not a voice this time—something in me. A thrumming in my chest, ancient and wrong. Like a locked door cracking open inside my soul.

I backed up—and slammed into something solid.

Someone.

A hand caught my elbow before I could scream. Cold. Strong. Unshakably calm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a voice murmured, deep and refined.

I turned and saw him.

Tall. Broad. Dressed in black like the night had tailored itself to him. His eyes—icy blue, inhumanly sharp—glowed faintly in the dark.

Lucian.

I didn’t know his name yet. But some part of me did.

His gaze pinned me in place. Possessive. Knowing. A little furious.

“You’re early,” he said, stepping back. “The blood shouldn’t have called you yet.”

My throat dried. “Called me?”

He didn’t answer. His eyes flicked to the trees. “We need to move. Now.”

And that’s when the howling started.

Low. Distant. Dozens of voices. Not dogs. Not coyotes.

Wolves.

And they were getting closer.

“Who are you?” I demanded, heart punching my ribs.

Lucian’s jaw clenched. “The only one who can keep you alive.”

Behind him, something else emerged from the trees—bare-chested, tattooed, wild-eyed, and smirking like this was fun for him.

Kade.

Where Lucian was ice, this one was fire—mischief and muscle and danger wrapped in a snarl.

“Or you could come with me,” Kade said, looking me up and down. “And live.”

Lucian growled. Actually growled.

The forest around us tensed. Shadows thickened. Eyes blinked open in the dark.

“Too late,” Lucian hissed. “They found her.”

“Guess that invitation wasn’t as private as we thought,” Kade muttered.

I didn’t wait for another cryptic threat. I turned and ran.

Straight into the wolves.

The clearing hit me like a trap—too open, too silent, ringed with trees like an audience holding its breath. The second I crossed the edge, the wolves emerged.

Not animals. Not even close.

Half-shifted forms, bone cracking over muscle, fur crawling across skin, eyes glowing red and gold. Five… no, six of them, circling like sharks scenting blood.

Mine.

Lucian was suddenly in front of me, coat flying like a cloak of shadows. Kade flanked the left, his tattoos igniting like green fire across his chest and arms.

"Stay behind me," Lucian commanded.

"I’d listen," Kade added, voice a growl. "Unless you’re into dying in your favorite hoodie."

I couldn’t move if I wanted to. My body was frozen. Not in fear—okay, maybe a little fear—but more in recognition. Like some wild, buried instinct had slammed the brakes.

I knew these things. Not their faces. But the way they moved, the way they looked at me—like they’d tasted my soul before.

Lucian shifted first.

One blink he was a man. The next, a monster.

A black wolf, massive and sleek, fur rippling like liquid night. His eyes blazed frost-blue, and the ground cracked under his paws.

Kade followed, his shift raw and violent—bones snapping, fur bursting through skin, his lean form coated in streaks of glowing ink even in wolf form. He looked like war incarnate.

And then they lunged.

The wolves clashed midair, snarling and snapping, teeth flashing. Blood hit the dirt. A body flew past me, slammed into a tree, and didn’t get up.

I just stood there.

Shaking. Heart in my throat. Fists clenched.

Until one of the rogues broke from the fray—and ran straight for me.

“Raven!” Kade barked.

Too late.

The rogue leapt.

And time cracked open.

The world slowed. My vision blurred, not from fear but from light. White-hot light pouring through my skin, racing down my arms, crawling across my palms like fire that couldn’t wait to burn.

I threw up my hands to block the attack—

And the wolf hit an invisible wall of flame.

It shrieked, recoiling midair as its fur lit up, the fire mine. The air pulsed with heat and something older—something holy and terrifying.

The rogue dropped, howling in agony, flames still licking his side as he limped away.

Lucian broke from the fight to stare at me, shifting back into human form mid-sprint. He didn’t look scared.

He looked stunned.

"You awakened," he whispered.

I stared at my hands. My veins glowed silver. My fingertips smoked.

"What the hell is happening to me?" I asked, voice trembling.

Kade shifted back, panting, bleeding, a slash across his collarbone.

"You just summoned hellfire," he said, eyes wide. "That’s supposed to be impossible."

Lucian stepped forward, gaze locked on mine.

"Not for her."

The last rogue saw the flames still dancing around my fingers—and ran.

Smart.

The rest lay scattered. Broken. Not dead. But they wouldn’t be coming back.

My hands finally stopped glowing. The heat vanished. My knees buckled.

Lucian caught me before I hit the ground.

Kade was already at my other side. “We need to move. More are coming.”

“No.” Lucian's grip tightened. “They’ll all feel it now. Her bloodline just screamed through the forest.”