Page 27 of Ravaging Red (Monsters of the Hollow Realm #1)

Treacherous Trails

RAEL

W e left at dawn the next morning.

Red wore a new dress, soft and flowing, cinched at the waist by a cord I’d braided from leather.

Her red cloak hugged her shoulders, the hood drawn low as the morning wind swept through the trees.

The blue scarf I’d given her was wrapped loosely around her neck, and the silver and crimson bracelet I had given her, shimmered on her wrist. Her hair was loose and looked like wildfire.

She was my mate, my equal, and my reason.

I wasn’t dressed in much. A thick, black linen wrap tied at the waist, slung low around my hips, reinforced with old hide and a blade sheath sewn into the fold.

My chest was bare, the scars of past fights exposed to the air, my body marked by time and war.

From my pack, I pulled a folded cloak, dark blue, the fabric was aged but strong, the gold emblem of my house stitched into the corner, the symbol of a dark past.

Red’s eyes narrowed as I draped it across my shoulders. “That looks important,” she said.

I shrugged. “It’s just protocol. The Council likes their old customs. This was my father’s. His seal. I left that name a long time ago.”

She stepped closer, fingertips brushing the edge of the cloak. “But you kept it.”

“I keep a lot of things,” I murmured. “Doesn’t mean I serve them.”

I didn’t tell her everything. I didn’t tell her that the gold seal stitched into the fabric belonged to one of the oldest bloodlines in the Hollow. That my father was once High Fang of the Hollow Court. That I, Rael of House Mavryn, was born to lead monsters, not run with them.

But I never wanted a throne. I never wanted to sit in some ancient keep, ruling over creatures who respected blood more than merit. I was a fighter, a hunter, a beast carved by instinct and rage, not diplomacy.

When I challenged my father’s way, when I refused the Rite of Binding that would have locked me to a Council chosen mate, I walked away from it all. Left my name, my House, my claim.

But they never truly let me go.

The Council might see my return as an opportunity to try and leash me again. To use my House as a way to gain control. If they can't tear Red from me with law, they might try to exploit legacy and twist honor into a weapon, forcing my obedience through bloodline.

And if they do…

They’ll learn just how far I’ve fallen from grace. And how dangerous that fall has made me.

She didn’t press further. Just nodded, her eyes lingering a second longer before slipping her hand back into mine.

We packed light, but carefully. Bread wrapped in cloth, a handful of sweet berries, dried fruit, salted meat. I added a flask of water, small bundles of magical herbs, flint, and the old coin pouch I never traveled without. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get us to the High Hollow.

I crouched low, and Red climbed onto my back, her arms wrapped tight around my shoulders, her legs curling against my sides. She weighed nothing. Not to me. I could have carried her through flames and flood for all I cared.

The journey would take three days. Three days through the realm. Three days with my mate exposed.

I carried her most of the way, not just because I wanted to, but because I had to. Her human legs weren’t made for the terrain. We crossed thorn-choked forests, twisted paths that disappeared into mist, bogs that whispered names no one should ever answer.

The first night, we slept under the open sky, wrapped in my fur, her breath warm against my throat.

“I’ve never seen stars like this,” she whispered.

I kissed her temple. “They burn differently here.”

The world changed as we moved deeper into the realm.

The trees thickened, growing taller, their trunks twisting toward the sky like limbs aching for freedom.

Some bled sap the color of rust. Others whispered in voices no one should ever hear.

The ground pulsed beneath our feet, alive in ways the human world had long forgotten.

Moss glowed faintly blue beneath our steps, and dark-eyed birds with bone-colored wings watched us from the canopies, never blinking.

Probably wondering what a monster and a human were doing on this path.

We crossed rivers that ran black as ink, stepping over stones etched with runes older than the Council. Time didn’t move the same here. The moon hung like a wound overhead, never rising too high, never dipping too low. Everything was waiting. Watching.

On the second day, we came across two ogres.

They stood just off the main path, near a smoking fire, their tusks gleaming, their yellow eyes narrowing as we passed. Both were enormous, their skin green, mottled and cracked, clothes barely more than hides wrapped around tree-trunk limbs.

And both carried a scent I didn’t expect.

Human.

Female.

The scent of human arousal clung to their skin, faint but unmistakable. I growled low in my throat as we passed, and they didn’t challenge me. Just grinned, sharp and knowing.

I gripped Red's hand tightly. "They have a human," I whispered to her.

“A human?” Red whispered near my ear, shuddering as she took a glance at them, quickly looking at her feet.

“Yes,” I murmured. “Ogres take mates sometimes. Not often. Not publicly. But I never thought they would be able to take a human. You can smell it on them, and I don't think they're a prisoner, yet I don't think they're with them of their own free will."

Red went quiet, and I felt her fingers tighten around me. She took a quick glance back and when she turned, a worried look furrowed her brow.

“What is it, my pet?”

“I thought I saw something I recognized, but…” She shook her head. “It’s probably nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

She stopped on the path, seeming to want to go back as she bit down on her bottom lip. “Do you want us to go back?”

“No,” she said quickly, gripping my arm. “I’m just seeing things. When we’re done with all this, I want you to meet someone.”

“Oh?” I smiled. “And who might that be?”

“A friend,” she whispered, taking another glance behind us before continuing on the path.

That night, we made camp beneath a hollowed tree, its bark smooth as bone. Red sat close to the fire while I kept watch.

“Don’t speak to anything that speaks in rhyme. Don’t take food unless I give it to you. And if something offers you a wish…run.” I warned her.

"Why? She quickly asked, and I was coming to realize that with Red it was best to give her an explanation when I gave out an order. She wasn't the type to listen without a reason. Rebellious little female.

“Because rhyme is a trap. The ones that speak it are bound to rules older than thought. They don’t lie, but their truths are wrapped in riddles, and if you answer incorrectly, they’ll take something of yours.

Your voice. Your name. Your memories. You’ll bleed and never know where the wound came from. ”

She shivered, wrapping the cloak tighter.

“And wishes?” she asked.

“Wishes are worse,” I said. “No one gives without taking. And in the Hollow realm, what they take is never what you think. You ask for love and lose your face. Ask for strength and forget your name. Don’t wish for anything, Red. You already have everything that matters.”

She leaned against me, warm and silent, her fingers brushing mine.

By the third morning, the forest turned ancient.

The trees were white now, their bark like bone, blood-colored moss hung along their crooked branches.

Stones jutted from the earth, carved with runes that glowed when the wind howled.

The air was colder here, thinner, and the Veil shimmered as though something waited just beyond it.

The trees parted into a clearing and there it was.

The High Hollow.

It sat against a massive ridge that rose like the spine of a buried beast, carved with spiraling arches and broken statues. The entrance was a gate, menacingly tall and silent, made from black stone and veined with red crystal. Old magic clung to it, sensing us as we approached.

Red climbed down, standing beside me. She adjusted her cloak, brushed her fingers over her scarf, and looked up at the towering gate with a calmness I didn't expect. It even soothed my own worries.

Her hand slipped into mine.

“You’re not losing me,” she whispered.

And gods help me; I wanted to believe her.

The doors opened slowly, groaning as though resisting the weight of what we brought with us. And as we stepped through, I gave a low growl, because I vowed to myself, I would not walk out without her. Not even if it meant dragging her through blood and ruin to keep her.