Raven: Someone is hunting me.
The response is immediate.
Thauglor: Who dares to hunt my baby!
I almost feel like I can hear his roar from here, the mental image of his fury making the ground seem to vibrate beneath my feet.
Mina: Where are you?
Raven: A hundred and fifty-one yards south of the northern dorms near the apple tree. The shot came from the east.
Mina: Dad is on his way. You should see him in a few minutes, with as fast as he took off.
Raven: Yeah, I see him on the horizon. Thanks, Mom.
Dad’s dragon form appears as a dark silhouette against the star-studded sky, his massive wings blocking out constellations as he approaches. The air displacement from his flight creates wind that whips my hair around my face and makes my wings flutter. He blackens the sky before shifting mid-flight and gliding down with predatory grace, his landing so light it barely disturbs the fallen leaves.
Before I can say two words to him, he scoops me up in his powerful arms. His embrace is warm and protective, smelling of leather and the ancient stone that clings to him after flight. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He pulls back, his sapphire eyes—identical to mine—scanning every inch of me for injury.
“I felt the arrow before I saw it, so I managed to move in time to dodge it.” I shrug my shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant despite the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. The dragon’s bane arrow juts from the tree like an accusation.
“You already know a non-dragon species had to fire it.” Dad’s voice carries a dangerous edge as he studies the arrow, his nostrils flaring slightly. The scent of the toxic wood clearly affects him too. “Looks elven.” He snaps a picture with practiced efficiency and sends it off. “Klauth will know better than I would. My answer was always to melt first, ask questions later.” He shrugs unapologetically, and I catch a glimpse of the ancient predator that lurks beneath his fatherly exterior.
“Solid logic, given the time period you grew up in. I mean, it can still apply today if we’re being honest.” I arch a brow at my dad, and he smiles—the expression both proud and slightly feral.
“You are my little terror.” He presses his lips to my forehead, the gesture tender despite the violence surrounding us. His phone pings with an incoming message. “Klauth agrees—it’s fae in origin.” Dad’sexpression darkens as he looks from me to the dorms and back. “I’ll walk you to your dorm, then I’ll head home.”
He kisses my temple, his beard scratching gently against my skin, and we turn toward the stone buildings. Our footsteps echo in the quiet evening air.
“Titan has been epic. I really think I’m ready for the processional,” I mention, trying to shift the conversation to something lighter. The familiar topic brings a genuine smile to Dad’s face.
“Mom needs to take all the girls dress shopping.” I catch him rolling his eyes at the prospect, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Why doesn’t Ziggy just take us? You know Mom hates dress shopping.” The practical suggestion makes Dad’s expression brighten considerably.
“I’ll suggest it. I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance.” We reach the heavy wooden doors of the dormitory, and Dad kisses my temple again before giving me a gentle but firm push toward the entrance. “Go. Lock your door.”
I watch him take flight from the safety of the doorway, his powerful wings carrying him up into the night sky until he’s just another shadow among the stars. Only then do I head upstairs to my room, my boots echoing in the empty corridor.
When I enter, both of my sisters are hunched over their respective projects, the warm light from their desk lamps creating pools of golden illumination. Lily looks up briefly, her black hair catching the light, while Thorne remains focused on what appears to be political diagrams.
On my bed are two new shells and a chocolate bar. As I sit on the soft comforter and pick up the items, I realize it’s my favorite chocolate—dark with sea salt caramel, imported from a small confectionery that few people know about. The shells are pristine, clearly chosen withcare. One is a perfect conch spiral; the other is a delicate scallop with pearl undertones.
My heart does a strange little flutter as I examine the gifts. Whoever my mate is has really stepped up his game. The thought that someone cares enough to learn my preferences, to leave these small tokens of affection, makes warmth spread through my chest despite the evening’s terror. In a world where someone just tried to kill me with dragon’s bane, these gentle offerings feel like a lifeline to something beautiful and hopeful.
Chapter 11
Raven
My stomach grumblingwakes me before my alarm. The sound echoes in the quiet dorm room like a minor earthquake. The first thing I notice as consciousness fully returns is the metallic scent of blood hanging heavy in the air. The coppery smell makes my nostrils flare and my dragon senses snap to full alert.
I freeze, every muscle tensing as I look over at my sisters. They’re both breathing—I can see the gentle rise and fall of their chests beneath their blankets. Slowly, I slide off my bed, the mattress springs creaking softly as I move. My bare feet touch the cold floor as I creep toward Thorne’s bed and lean down to sniff at her. The blood isn’t coming from her—she smells like vanilla body wash.
I move around the bed, each step deliberate and silent, and get close enough to Lily to catch her scent. There’s no blood smell from her either—just the faint lavender of her shampoo.
Slowly, I turn and start stalking through the room, following my nose like a predator tracking prey. The scent grows stronger as I approach my desk, and I see it—a box that wasn’t there when I went to sleep.The dark wood gleams in the pale morning light filtering through our window.
As I get closer, the scent of blood becomes overwhelming, making my dragon side rise beneath my skin. My eyes shift partially, enhancing my vision. Bloody hell. I draw in a deep breath, steeling myself, and lift the lid with trembling fingers.
