Raven Moon

Chapter 18: A Moment's Respite

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows against the walls of Raven's shop. The air still hung thick with the weight of their previous conversation, tension clinging to them like a second skin. Rogue leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, while Conner stared down at the wooden table, lost in thought. Raven, ever composed, stood near her shelves, absently running her fingers over the spines of old tomes.

"We need a break," she finally said, breaking the silence. "Sitting here stewing over the plan isn't going to help us. Let's head to the bar, clear our heads while we go over the details."

Rogue smirked. "Drinking while strategizing? That's a dangerous game."

Raven shrugged. "Danger is all we know."

Conner huffed a quiet laugh. "Fine. But only a few drinks. We still have a lot to figure out."

With that, they left the shop, stepping into the cool night air. The streets were quieter now, the city settled into a hushed lull. The Crooked Tankard was only a short walk away, its windows glowing with warm candlelight, the hum of voices spilling into the street.

Inside, the tavern was alive with energy. Patrons crowded around tables, laughter and murmured conversations blending into a steady buzz. They found a corner booth away from the thick of the crowd, settling in with tankards of ale.

Raven took a slow sip of her drink, her sharp eyes scanning the room before she leaned in slightly. "I've been thinking," she said, voice just loud enough to be heard over the noise. "We might need an extra witch on our side."

Rogue lifted a brow. "You have someone in mind?"

She hesitated. "A few. But I don't know if I can trust them."

Conner studied her face, noting the rare flicker of uncertainty. "Then why even consider it?"

"Because we might not have a choice," she admitted. "If things go south, we need all the help we can get."

Rogue sighed, taking a swig from his tankard. "Great. More unknowns."

The conversation drifted, but Conner found himself watching Raven more than listening. There was something about her—something untouchable, yet so dangerously alluring. He had spent years convincing himself that he didn't care, that whatever he felt for her was fleeting. But as she sat there, framed by the glow of candlelight, he let himself wonder.

What would life with her be like? If she ever chose him, if she let him in—not just as an ally, but as something more.

Raven, gifted as she was, felt his gaze, felt the longing woven into it. She didn't acknowledge it. Not yet.

Instead, she pushed her drink aside and stood. "I need to run back to my shop," she said. "There's a book we'll need—something with spells that might come in handy."

"I'll come with you," Conner said quickly.

She shook her head. "No. I won't be long. You two stay and keep going over the plan."

Rogue drained the last of his ale and stood as well. "I'll take the opportunity to check in with a Fae friend. Might be able to get some insight on the Nexus."

Conner exhaled, watching as they both prepared to leave. He didn't like the idea of splitting up, but he trusted them.

"We meet back here in an hour," Raven said. "No detours, no unnecessary risks."

Rogue smirked. "When have we ever taken unnecessary risks?"

Raven shot him a knowing look before slipping into the night, leaving Conner alone with his thoughts—and the weight of emotions he wasn't ready to face.