THE RAVEN | avengers

[82]

ACT 1
Chapter 82
Two Decades

It had been 20 years since Raven last saw a version of herself that aged. Twenty long, relentless years, filled with missions, conflict, and barely a moment to breathe. The serum coursing through her veins ensured that she remained physically untouched by time. Rowan, too, hadn't aged a day, his energy just as boundless as it was the day they met. Caelan, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. His appearance barely changed, thanks to the experimental serum he had been injected with. It gave him more muscle, a slower aging process — but it wasn't the same as the one Raven and Rowan had received.

Over the last two decades, she had been sent on mission after mission, sometimes with Rowan, sometimes alongside Winter, and occasionally just the two of them. Their lives had become one continuous cycle of covert operations, infiltrations, and tactical strikes. Yet, between the missions, when the world wasn't watching, Raven and Winter found moments for themselves. Stolen hours, fleeting touches, and whispers in the dark kept their connection alive through the years.

But that had all stopped three years ago.

Winter disappeared — no word, no mission, no explanation. The absence gnawed at Raven like a wound that wouldn't heal, but she couldn't let it show.

Her mind drifted back to one of the last nights they had together, a moment etched in her memory.

The night was quiet, the stillness only broken by the occasional crackle of firewood burning in the old fireplace. They were far from the chaos of their missions, nestled in an isolated safehouse deep in the mountains. The air was cool, but inside, wrapped up in one another, it felt impossibly warm.

Raven lay on her side, her body curled into Winter's, his arm draped loosely over her waist. Their bodies were pressed close, sharing the same steady rhythm of breathing as they lay in the dim light, the world outside forgotten. The night had been filled with an unspoken understanding — intimacy that spoke louder than words.

Winter's fingers traced lazy circles on the bare skin of her back, his touch soft, almost absent-minded, as though he didn't want to break the moment. Raven felt the tension melt from her muscles, her guard lowered in a way she never allowed with anyone else.

"You know," Winter's voice was soft, almost a murmur against the stillness of the night. "I never thought I could have this. Not again. Not after everything."

Raven shifted slightly, turning her head to meet his gaze. His expression was raw, his eyes searching hers for something unspoken. He rarely allowed himself to be vulnerable, but in that moment, he was stripped bare before her. She saw it all — the pain, the years of conditioning, the weight he carried with him always.

"Have what?" she whispered, her fingers brushing a strand of his hair away from his forehead.

"This... you," he said, his voice hushed as though saying it too loud might make it all vanish. "I didn't think I could feel this again, but you—" he stopped, taking a deep breath. "You make me feel human."

Raven felt a knot form in her throat, emotions she had buried deep down bubbling to the surface. She had never expected this — never thought she'd let someone in like this, let alone someone as broken as him. And yet, here they were, intertwined not just physically, but emotionally, in a way she had never allowed herself to experience.

Winter shifted, pulling her closer so that their foreheads touched. His breath was warm on her lips, their faces so close that every inch of her felt tethered to him.

"I love you," he said, the words slipping out in a raw, unguarded whisper. His blue eyes locked onto hers, filled with a vulnerability he rarely showed. "I love you, Raven."