the Ties That Bind

Chapter 15: The Ties That Bind

The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant tang of something burning—incense, perhaps, or something more arcane. Conner and Rogue moved swiftly through the winding streets, their boots silent on the cobblestones. The Crooked Tankard had felt claustrophobic, the weight of their father's sins pressing in on them. Now, under the open sky, it was no easier to breathe.

Raven's shop was nestled in the heart of the merchant quarter, though calling it a shop was generous. It was more of a sanctuary—hidden between a blacksmith's forge and a crumbling apothecary, its entrance marked only by a carved wooden raven perched above the door. The sign bore no words, but those who needed her knew where to find her.

Rogue stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against the heavy wood. A moment later, a voice, smooth and sharp as a dagger, called from within.

"Enter."

The door swung open on its own. Conner swallowed the unease curling in his gut and stepped inside after Rogue.

The room was dimly lit, the glow of scattered candles casting flickering shadows against shelves lined with vials, herbs, and books bound in strange leathers. The air smelled of sage and something deeper, something that lingered in the back of the throat. And at the center of it all, standing with arms crossed, was Raven.

She was just as Conner remembered—tall, with dark eyes that seemed to see more than she should, her black hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. Power clung to her like a second skin.

Rogue exhaled, his stance relaxing ever so slightly.

"Rogue." Raven's lips curled into a smirk. "I was beginning to wonder if you were dead."

"Not yet," he muttered.

Her gaze flickered to Conner. "And you brought company. I assume that means this is serious."

Conner nodded. "It's worse than we thought."

Raven gestured toward a worn wooden table, already cluttered with papers and an open grimoire. "Sit."

They did.

Rogue hesitated for only a second before speaking. "He's planning something big, Raven. He took something from the fae. Something called the Nexus."

She stilled, her fingers tightening against the edge of the table.

"The Nexus isn't just power, Rogue," she said, her voice hushed. "It's the heart of their connection to this world. It binds them to the balance of magic itself. If he has it…"

Conner shifted in his seat. "Then what?"

Raven looked between them. "Then the rules change. If the Nexus is severed from the fae, their power weakens. Their hold on the old magics crumbles. And in that void?" She let out a slow breath. "Something else will rise to take its place."

Something worse.

A cold knot formed in Conner's stomach. "Then we have to stop him."

Rogue nodded. "I'll go back."

Raven's head snapped toward him. "Absolutely not."

"It's the only way," he said firmly. "If I return, tell him I've reconsidered after hearing Conner left—" he shot his brother an apologetic glance "—then he'll let me back in. I can get close enough to learn what he's planning, maybe even where he's keeping the Nexus."

Raven shook her head. "It's too dangerous."

Rogue smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Since when have we ever been safe?"

Conner ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. He didn't like it, but he knew his brother was right. Their father would never let him return, not after everything. But Rogue… Rogue could play the prodigal son.

Raven stared at Rogue for a long moment before finally sighing. "Fine."

She turned, moving toward a shelf where small iron charms hung from black thread. "If you're going to do this, you're not doing it unprotected."

She plucked two from the row and returned to the table. The charms were simple—a circular pendant carved with ancient symbols, the iron cold against Conner's palm when she pressed it into his hand.

"These will shield you from divination. As long as you wear them, he won't be able to read your intentions. They won't make you invisible, but they'll give you a fighting chance."

Conner curled his fingers around the pendant.

"Thank you," Rogue murmured, fastening his around his neck.

Raven hesitated, then reached out, brushing her fingers against his wrist. "Be careful."

It was a simple touch, but Conner saw the way Rogue stilled beneath it.

And that was when he realized it.

The way Rogue looked at her. The way his fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary. The way his jaw clenched when she turned away.

Rogue was in love with her.

Conner swallowed. He hadn't expected that revelation to sting.

But it did.

It wasn't just admiration, or camaraderie, or trust forged in fire. It was something deeper. Something fragile and raw.

And the worst part?

Conner wasn't sure if he was jealous because Rogue had feelings for Raven… or because, somehow, he did too.

Raven turned back to them, her expression unreadable. "You leave at dawn," she said. "We'll meet again in three days. If you're not back by then, I'll assume the worst."

Rogue smirked. "And what's the worst?"

She met his gaze. "That you're dead."

A silence stretched between them, heavy and unspoken.

Then Rogue exhaled, pushing to his feet. "Then I guess I'll have to make sure I come back."

Conner stood as well, casting one last glance at Raven.

Three days.

That was all the time they had before everything either came together… or fell apart.

And as they stepped out into the night, Conner couldn't shake the feeling that something—everything—was about to change.