Page 9 of Ravaging Red (Monsters of the Hollow Realm #1)

THE MESSAGE

RAEL

T he pain in my bones was a living thing that kept gnawing at me. It was insistent and begging for a release that wasn’t coming. The past few days had been torture without her as I waited for the cursed moon to subside, to leave me alone.

But it hung bright in the sky, and with each heartbeat it drove me further past bloodlust, past reason, somewhere between hunger and madness.

I needed answers. I needed to know what in Hades' name was going on, and the only ones who would be able to tell me what the fuck I was experiencing, were the Old Ones.

The Old Ones were not gods, but they were tied to the Hollow Council in the deepest of ways.

They were something older, something far more ancient than worship or prayer.

You could call them primordial forces bound in the roots of the Hollow, consumed by shadow, and bone.

Their names had been long forgotten, burned from memory by time and terror, but their presence lingered, etched into the cracked stones that circled the Hollow Woods.

Whispering through the blood of every monster born beneath the Blood Moon.

I had to be cautious around them since their purpose was to keep humans and monsters apart, unless a bond was fated. A bond beyond their control.

When the Blood Moon rises, it signals that the balance has tipped, and the Old Ones were always watching to see what it brought with it.

They feared another merging of realms, a breach where hunger, lust, and violence would destroy what remains of the Hollow.

The last time it happened, entire lineages of monsters were wiped out, and humans forgot magic existed.

They never spoke directly at you. Their messages come through blood-runes, moonlight alignments, or prophetic possession.

Only witches and the Veilbound could interpret their warnings correctly.

Monsters were bound by their ancient bloodlines to heed the Old Ones' laws.

Defying them didn't just carry physical consequences, it warped the soul. But the Veilbound were chosen by birth or cursed by fate. They were another level of monsters, tethered to the boundary between worlds. They were considered guardians, but also prisoners. They bled with the veil, dreamed about it, and suffered under its weight. The mark of the Veil wasn’t visible, but it burned beneath the skin like a buried rune, flaring to life in the presence of its mated soul, one bound by fate.

I was a Veilbound . I was marked from birth.

Chosen by a bloodline that once served the Old Ones as Veilkeepers.

I had fought them and their chains my entire life.

I’d felt the Veil in the throb of my mark, in the pulse of my cock when Red moaned my name, in the ache that twisted behind my ribs every time I defied their laws.

The Old Ones demanded obedience. They enforced balance.

They were the architects of binding magic, the same magic that stitched mating marks into flesh and made monsters hunger not just for sex, but for soul-deep possession.

But the Blood Moon defied them all, and its message was clear: Bind what is yours, or lose what you were.

I left the safety of the Hollow Woods early the next morning, striding through gnarled trees until I came upon a branch, a familiar red cloak hung from it.

I quickly yanked it down from the tree, pressing it to my nose, engulfed in her scent.

I knelt on the ground, a low howl ripping from my throat.

The Veil shimmered ahead, a reminder of what I had left on the other side.

A half day's journey to the town of Hollow Glen.

I arrived in the middle of the night. The streets were no longer lit by the pale moonlight but by the crimson hue of the Blood Moon.

Flickering lanterns carved from creature’s skulls, aligned the streets, bone runes glowing at their bases. Charcoal signs hung from crooked roofs, scrawled with warnings in several monster tongues. I was one of the few breeds to speak Old English.

TOUCH NO HUMANS. LISTEN TO THE OLD ONES.

CONSEQUENCES WILL FALL UPON THOSE WHO CLAIM

I had walked these streets a thousand times before, but tonight they felt different. The air smelled like iron and mildew. This town was meant for creatures who knew how to live in shadow but now uncertainty and fear dwelled among them.

I passed by the Guttergate, a bar where Ogres liked to stop at. They served Gorebrew Grog, a type of sludge-like ale brewed from fermented bloodroot, smoked bone marrow, and swamp malt, that had a kick strong enough to drop a troll. And a stench to keep anyone away.

They stood lounging on bone benches; trading clubs carved from demon femurs.

Their tattoos glowed faintly in the dark, a spiral of runes around massive arms, each a seal of their purpose.

I approached an Ogre with yellowed horns and scarred skin.

He grunted at me in acknowledgement, and I handed him a red scale coin.

“The Blood Moon wanes above the realm,” I spoke in his tongue. “What does that mean to you?”

He sneered, Grog dripping from his tusks. “The Old Ones speak of it. A warning to all that dwell in the Hollow Realm. They speak of a new dawn, for our kind, not the humans!”

The Ogres around him hollered in triumph, always loud. Always seeking chaos and war.

“What of its pull on us?” I pressed. “What do we do about that?”

He spat on the cobblestones near my paws. “Humans wandering here are to be lured out. Never touched. Never claimed. They are not to see us.” He eyed me. “But the Blood Moon… it brings out the worst in all of us, doesn’t it? Old instincts. Why do you ask, warrior? Is your rod suffering?”

He glanced down between my legs, and I bent down to grip him by the throat. “That is none of your concern.”

He grunted again, signaling to the Ogres around us that he was fine. “You are a Veilkeeper.” He spoke in Old English, and it surprised me. Only the most elite in the realm knew the language. Unless he too, was a Veilbound.

“I am a Wolf,” I corrected. “And I seek answers.”

“We all seek answers,” he grunted. “All we know is that they are rushing to close the barriers.”

“That’s impossible,” I stated.

“That’s what has been proclaimed by the Old Ones.”

“Well, they don’t know what they’re talking about, and neither do you.” I snarled angrily.

“Take it up with the witches then. I have nothing more to say to a Veilbound ,” he spat the word out as if it disgusted him.

Him . A brute Ogre.

Then again, I disgusted many, yet few who knew who I really was.

“You too are one, aren't you?”

He looked up, giving me a hard stare. “I am an Ogre.”

I glanced down at his cloth and a familiar crest glinted at me beneath his armor. “Veilbound or not. That crest gives you away Ogre.”

He stood and a few of the Ogres around us stopped their conversation.

“I at least have a pack, where is yours?” He snarled, making it clear that he had back up.

I simply gave him a smile, filled with warning. “I killed the last Alpha who overstepped his place. I've killed others for a lot less.”

He paused, giving me a hard stare. “You are Rael.“

“I am no one to you,” I snarled, taking one step forward, forcing him to sit back down.

“The Blood Moon calls out to us, those of noble blood. I don't know why, but what I've told you is true. Be careful of that pull, it will ruin you as it has me.”

I stared down at him for a minute, but we were then interrupted by a female scream in the distance, followed by a chuckle from the Ogres. We glanced at one another, but not another word was spoken between us as I turned and left, continuing on my path deeper into town.

The Market square lay ahead and in the center of it, a gothic amphitheater made of stone and iron.

Its platforms were carved with webbed insignias of the Old Ones.

Tonight, a crowd had gathered on dark benches, circling a wooden stage draped in blood-soaked banners.

Creatures of every shape and shade murmured in the gloom.

I ascended the stone steps, pressing through the crowd, until I could see the face of the speaker.

It was an elder witch, pale as bone, with long silver hair and eyes that were as black as midnight.

She raised a black, carved staff, topped with sharp claws.

Waving her hand around in front of her, the tips of her fingers also tainted black, announcing she was prolific in her magic.

“Tonight,” she rasped, voice echoing, “the Blood Moon bursts over us. It signals an omen. The Old Ones are speaking. We have heard their message.”

They all waited silently for her to continue.

“We cannot let new creatures cross without heed,” she continued. “They come hungry, and they are known to claim land that is not theirs. If we stand together, they will not cross the Veil.” Her eyes flicked over the assembly.

A Wolf-kin behind me shifted. “What of lust ?” he growled. “It’s said that the Blood Moon doesn’t just pull at blood and madness. It’s carnal and it holds a purpose. What are we to do when it consumes us all?”

No one answered. Eyes were lowered to the ground. They all feared the unknown. Only those of us who'd been called understood it.

The witch’s staff glowed. “We offer ritual and restraint. The Old Ones seek to reinforce the Veil. To seal the fracture. We must obey, but I agree. The pull is strong and will not be resisted forever. I can tell that a few of you have already had the calling.”

Her eyes locked on me and I did not move an inch, for it would give me away. “I can feel it burning you alive.”

A raven took the stage then, taking her eyes off me. Obsidian wings fluttered and midnight blue feathers glittered beneath the firelight.

“Fellow kin,” his voice was gravelly. “We do not kill humans, not unless forced. They take what is not theirs, but we do not become what they fear. We must become what they respect .”

“They already fear us!” Someone called out.

“At the cost of the Veil?” Another monster spoke, a Fae.

“We must protect the Veil!” Was shouted out among the crowd.

A chill spread across the square, and I felt the pull in my own blood, black and bitter. My fists clenched, and my muscles flexed.

One by one, others spoke. Vampires pounded their chests. Fae murmured charms. Beasts roared in their concerns. At the end, we were all in agreement, the Blood Moon was going to destroy everything we’d ever built by exposing us.

When it was over, and all had dispersed, I stayed behind. Walking up to the stage, I pressed my palms to the rune-engraved stone floor. Its power simmered beneath the cracks, and I breathed it in, asking it for a semblance of control.

The Monsters would plan rituals. They’d chant, they’d bind, they’d bleed. They’d attempt to control the frenzy and try to close the Veil again. But in the end, they could not fight the Blood Moon and its calling.

I would not . I couldn’t. It called out to me to do its bidding.

I would claim.

Because in my chest, the knot was pulsing. My mind fought it and the Old Ones had spoken but I was too far gone, and I knew it. I couldn’t give up what was meant for me to take.

NO TOUCHING HUMANS. NO CLAIMING. CONSEQUENCES.

But the Blood Moon had other plans. It chose me. It demanded for me to take what was being offered.

I turned away from the square, retraced my steps through crooked alleys and drunken Ogres. The bones beneath the lanterns seemed to whisper, Traitor .

I closed my eyes. My cock throbbing as I returned home, the first gray fingers of dawn bled into the sky. My hands shook from the pull of what I’d learned, what I’d felt in the last few nights without her.

I knew, in every cell of me, that I would defy their laws again. I could never resist the pull.

I would mark her and make her mine.