Raven Carter ran through the dense woods, her strides effortless, her boot barely making sound on the forest ground. The morning air was crisp, tinged with the faint scent of wet earth, and the sun's rays filtered through the trees in sharp, golden streaks.
This stretch of land sat on the outskirts of the city. It was private and quiet enough for focus.
This wasn't just exercise. It was discipline—training, testing herself. Every muscle, every reflex, every heartbeat was sharpened for a moment she didn't yet know was coming.
She allowed a faint smile. Her body moved smoothly, perfectly in rhythm with the world around her. Birds scattered as she passed, startled by her speed, and the wind rushed through the leaves, carrying only the sound of her breathing. Still, something felt wrong.
A subtle shift in the air. A faint crunch behind her—something out of place in the forest. Raven slowed, her senses sharpening, instincts snapping into alert. She stopped. Silence stretched around her.
"Come out," she said evenly, not turning around. "Now."
The air shifted, and figures stepped out from between the trees—five at first, then more. Their movements were controlled and precise. Demon-trained assassins. Their eyes glinted with killing intent as they raised their weapons, ready to strike.
They attacked, Raven moved first. What followed next was not a fight—it was execution.
She vanished, reappearing behind the first attacker in a blur. Her hand cut through his neck, decapitating him before he felt pain. She twisted, disarming another in mid-lunge and snapping his spine with brutal force.
Steel flashed. Blood sprayed. Bodies fell.
She moved faster than their eyes could follow, stronger than their reinforced frames. A blade grazed her shoulder—she caught it, crushed it in her grip, and drove her elbow into the attacker's chest. Bone shattered. He dropped.
Within seconds, it was over, the forest returned to silence.
Heads lay separated from bodies, dark blood soaking into the earth. Raven stood among them, breathing calm, unshaken. Not a single assassin remained standing.
"Late," she said coolly.
From behind a thick oak tree, Gunnar stepped into view, completely unbothered. He held a water bottle in one hand, posture relaxed, eyes scanning the carnage with mild interest.
"Aren't you my bodyguard?" she added dryly. "You're supposed to protect me."
"Mistress," Gunnar replied, tossing the bottle toward her, "you don't need saving."
She caught it without looking, rinsed the blood from her hands, and capped it again.
"Get your intel moving," she said, already walking away. "I want to know who sent them—and why they thought this was a good idea."
"At once."
She checked her watch. 7:30 am, right on schedule.
Raven exited the woods without a backward glance. Waiting for her at the edge of the road were two black Cadillac Escalades, engines idling. The doors opened the moment she approached.
She slid effortlessly into the back seat of the first vehicle.
"Drive."
The convoy pulled away smoothly, disappearing toward the city—and the mansion that stood as both her residence and her fortress.Whoever had sent those assassins had made a mistake, andd they were about to learn just how costly it would be.
The Escalades moved in smooth formation, tires whispering over the asphalt as the city came into view. Raven sat in silence, one leg crossed, her gaze fixed on the darkened window. Her reflection stared back—sharp eyes, calm expression, no sign of the fight.
Gunnar sat in the front passenger seat, working on his tablet. Surveillance feeds and encrypted data scrolled across the screen.
"The perimeter breach was clean," he said without looking up. "No trackers."
"They weren't amateurs," Raven replied evenly. "Someone paid for that attack."
"Yes," Gunnar said. "And they misjudged you."
The convoy left the main road and passed through a discreet security gate built into the landscape. Cameras tracked the vehicles as the road narrowed, bordered by sculpted greenery and stone walls that concealed advanced wards beneath their polished design. They passed row after row of luxurious houses, each meticulously maintained, before the mansion finally came into view.
The mansion rose ahead modern and sleek, with dark walls and large glass windows. A wide stone driveway led up to a tall, dark front door. Minimalist landscaping with neatly trimmed bushes framed the entrance. Subtle lights highlighted the building's clean lines, giving it a polished, luxurious look.
The Escalades glided to a stop in front of the mansion. Raven stepped out, her boots silent on the stone driveway, moving with effortless authority toward the entrance. Waiting for her were Ms. Whitney, the elderly house manager with an air of quiet efficiency, and Leila, her young, attentive maid.
"Good morning, Mistress," they greeted in unison, their voices respectful but warm.
Raven's sharp eyes swept over them.
"Breakfast ready?" she asked, her tone casual but commanding.
"Yes, Mistress," Ms. Whitney replied immediately, her voice steady.
At that moment, the young chef appeared, carrying a tray of carefully arranged dishes.
A full French breakfast—croissants, fresh fruit, omelets, smoked salmon, and steaming coffee—was spread neatly on the patio, overlooking the perfectly manicured gardens.
Raven nodded approvingly. "You outdid yourself."
The chef gave a small bow. "Thank you, Mistress."
She slipped off her boots with a soft thud, resting her feet on the warm patio stone. Morning sunlight glinted off the silverware, highlighting the neat table. Raven sat, relaxed but controlled, allowing herself a brief moment of satisfaction. Out Here, in her sanctuary, she could finally breathe—if only for a moment.
Raven noticed Leila standing hesitantly at the patio edge.
"Sit," Raven said simply.
Leila stammered, "Ma'am, I—"
"You're not my maid right now," Raven interrupted. "You're my guest. Sit and have breakfast with me."
Raven poured her coffee and studied her. "Leila, I know you love to go to school. I've seen you reading my books in the library. I like that—I see your passion for education. That's why I've decided to enroll you in any academy of your choice. Feel free to choose. The is not a problem."
Leila's eyes widened. "Ma'am… I—"
"You're smart and capable," Raven said. "Go for what you want. You deserve it."
Leila nodded, a shy smile forming. "Thank you so much ma'am."
"Good. Now eat. You'll need your strength," Raven replied.
Outside, the city carried on, unaware of the morning's chaos—the failed assassination, the blood spilled, and the storms of power Raven always faced. Here, she could finally breathe.