The Ravens of London by Ryen Santana

Author:Ryen Santana [Santana, Ryen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ryen Santana
Published: 2025-04-08T00:00:00+00:00

29

Nora

1500 years ago

The Seelie Court was breathtaking, I’ll give them that. Beneath their golden sunlight and crystalline spires, you might almost believe in their myth of eternal beauty and benevolence. Mortals often did, enchanted by tales of the fair folk with their gleaming smiles and gilded lies.

But I knew better. The beauty of the Seelie Court was a mask, carefully cultivated to hide their rotted core. They were as cruel and treacherous as their unseelie kin, only they were better at pretending otherwise. And Oberon, their king, was no different.

He sat upon his throne, carved from the living wood of an ancient oak. Vines and blossoms twisted around the edges, shimmering with the light of summer’s dawn. His crown of golden ivy gleamed as he studied me, his emerald-green eyes sharp and suspicious.

“You speak boldly, goddess,” Oberon said, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the chamber. “Why have you come here to meddle in fae affairs?”

I tilted my head, letting my golden hair cascade over my shoulder. “Meddle?” I repeated, feigning offense. “I wouldn’t dare meddle, King Oberon. I’m here out of concern. Concern for your daughter.”

Oberon’s expression hardened, his grip tightening on the staff he held. “Ottilie has made her choice. She chose the God of Nightmares over her own kin. Her banishment was her own doing.”

I stepped closer, my movements slow and deliberate. The light of the court caught on the pale glow of my skin, a carefully calculated reminder of my divinity. I had learned long ago that the fae respected power above all else.

“Perhaps,” I said, my voice softening, “but have you considered the price of that choice? Of what she has suffered since leaving your protection?”

Oberon’s eyes narrowed. “What are you implying?”

I lowered my gaze, letting a shadow of sadness creep into my expression. “I wish I weren’t implying anything. I wish I could tell you that your daughter is happy, that she is loved and cared for. But that would be a lie.”

The court murmured, their whispers weaving through the chamber like the rustle of leaves in the wind. Oberon’s expression darkened, and I knew I had his attention.

“Speak plainly, goddess,” he demanded.

I looked up, meeting his gaze with calculated hesitation. “Calum is not the man you think he is. He hides his true nature, even from those closest to him. Your daughter… Ottilie… has paid the price for trusting him.”

The murmur of the court grew louder, the fae leaning closer as if drawn to the drama unfolding before them. Oberon’s knuckles whitened around his staff, his jaw tightening.

“What has he done?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

I hesitated, just long enough to make it seem like I was weighing the cost of revealing the truth. Then, I let the words spill from my lips like poison.

“He’s broken her,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “She thought she could tame him, but you cannot tame a god of nightmares. He has taken her love and twisted it, using it to control her, to make her dependent on him.

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