My husband killed my soul-bound crow, and then he regretted it.
Language: en
In the master bedroom of the Harrington mansion, I was feeding the raven in its cage with ancient magic and drops of my own lifeblood. The raven, nourished by my sacrifice, pulsed with a faint golden glow. Years of blood loss had left my face pale. “Five years,” I whispered, my voice a mere breath. “The life-binding spell is finally almost complete. It's just a shame... that I have to leave.” My gaze lifted to a framed photo of Julian and me on the bedside table. My eyes filled with a deep, bitter sadness. I was a descendant of an ancient magical lineage, revered by all in our…