Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
She takes a deep breath, her eyes glistening with emotion.
“My brother Falcon was my greatest support. When the doctors said the traditional treatments for my type of leukemia had failed and that I needed a bone marrow transplant, he was the only match out of three brothers and a twin sister. Without a second thought, he stepped up and gave me the ultimate gift.”
Without a second thought? Raven’s need got him an early release from prison, though I understand why Raven isn’t mentioning that fact. Everyone here knows anyway.
“His bone marrow saved my life. His selfless act cured me, and I stand here today, cancer-free, because of him. Falcon, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
Across the room, I see Falcon Bellamy stand up and nod at his sister. He looks good in a tux, but it’s so odd seeing him in anything other than ranch wear. My own sister, Savannah, is beaming next to him in a midnight-blue gown.
The audience applauds, some wiping away tears.
“But our journey didn’t end there,” she continues, her voice gaining strength. “Surviving cancer gave me a new purpose. I knew I had to give back, to help others facing the same battle. That’s why I founded the Raven’s Wings Foundation. Our mission is to fund research and provide treatment for blood cancers, to give hope to those who need it most.”
She pauses, looking around the room, her gaze firm and determined.
“I want to share a moment that changed my perspective during my treatment. The night after the transplant, I should have been ecstatic, but I was feeling particularly low. I was tired of the pain, the uncertainty. I felt like I was losing myself. My brother Falcon sat beside me, held my hand, and told me that it was okay to be scared, that it was okay to feel weak. He reminded me that being strong doesn’t mean never feeling fear or pain—it means pushing through despite those feelings. It was in that moment that I realized strength isn’t about never falling. It’s about getting back up every time you do.”
I can almost hear the words in Falcon’s voice. He was speaking about his time behind bars. According to Savannah—now Falcon’s fiancée—he learned that survival on the inside depended on internal as well as external strength.
The room is silent. I look around at the awed faces. Everyone seems captivated by Raven’s words.
“This foundation is not just about finding a cure. It’s about supporting patients and their families, about providing hope and strength to those in the darkest moments of their lives. Tonight, your generosity will help us continue this vital work. Together, we can make a difference. Together, we can give hope to those who need it most.”
She steps back from the microphone and the room erupts in applause. As she makes her way down from the stage, she catches my eye and smiles.
As the applause dies down, I know two things for certain.
One—I’ve given up Raven Bellamy for her own good, but I’ll never love another.
And two—
I will kill a man tonight to protect her.
1
RAVEN
A month earlier…
Being healthy feels awesome.
Seriously awesome.
I sit on the back deck outside my parents’ ranch house. It’s early, but this is nothing new. I was born on a ranch, and ranchers get up before the sun. But I haven’t been getting up before the sun since I got sick. I’ve slept a lot of my time away. Now that I’m cancer-free—so far at least—and my body is returning to normal, I love getting up early.
Was the sky always this blue?
I took so much for granted, like the color of the Texas sky. It’s not simply blue. It’s a brilliant blue—the kind of blue that makes you stop and stare. It’s like I’m seeing it for the first time. The colors around me are more vivid, more intense. The green of the trees, the bursts of color from flowers—they all seem to pop in a way I never noticed before.
The air feels different too. It’s fresh and crisp, filling my lungs with each deep breath I take. Another thing I used to take for granted—the simple act of breathing without effort, without pain. Now, every inhale is a gift, a reminder of how precious and fragile life truly is. A gentle and soothing breeze brushes against my skin, and I can’t help but close my eyes and savor the sensation.
I think about how far I’ve come, how I’ve fought through the darkest days and nights. Those endless treatments, the uncertainty, the fear—they’re behind me now. I’ve emerged on the other side, stronger and more appreciative of the little things. Like how the sun feels warmer, more comforting, as it bathes me in its golden light. Or how the sound of my brothers talking among themselves is reassuring rather than driving me insane because they’re leaving me out once again.