“Whoever it was must have been following you or watching you for some reason. They probably saw the attempt on your life and went to hunt down the culprit.” Balor’s voice carries the weight of someone who’s seen too much violence. He studies the head with the detached professionalism of a warrior.
“Do you think it’s a potential mate or someone doing the right thing?” I look between my nest fathers, trying to read their expressions for clues about which way they’re leaning.
They look at each other, then over at me. “A potential matewould hunt and kill a threat to what’s theirs,” Leander says, his tone matter-of-fact.
“I agree.” Balor puts the lid back on the box with a soft thud, then both men kiss my temple—warm, protective gestures that smell like home and safety—before saying goodbye to my sisters.
“Want to go to the cafeteria? We have plenty of time,” Thorne says, appearing beside me with damp hair and the scent of her citrus shower gel.
“Sure. Let’s go.” I loop my arm with hers, grateful for the contact, and we leave the suite. Our footsteps echo in the empty hallway as we take the back staircase and exit on the side of the building closest to the southern dorms.
As we enter the cafeteria, it falls silent like someone cut the power to a radio. The sudden quiet is oppressive, filled with the weight of dozens of stares. I flex my wings, adjusting my backpack on my shoulder as the leather straps creak softly. I spot Belle and Azalea sitting at a table off to the side with a group of other students, their green, and black hair making them easy to identify.
“I’m gonna grab us some snacks. I’ll meet you over there.” Thorne’s voice breaks the silence as she heads toward the food line, her boots clicking against the tiled floor.
“Ooh, terror twin number two has arrived,” Azalea says with a bright smile as she stands to hug me. Her embrace smells like the jasmine lotion she’s worn since we were children.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah...” I hug her tightly and purr softly for my sister, the sound rumbling from deep in my chest—a dragon comfort gesture that few outside our family understand.
“I can’t believe you’re related to a dragon,” one of the guys at the table says, his voice carrying a mix of awe and fear.
“Related to? Ha! She’s half dragon—the mean, vicious half.” I kiss my sister’s cheek before turning to face the male, letting a hint of a slit into my sapphire eyes.
Orpheus walks up and hugs me as we face the speaker together. His familiar scent of leather and steel calms my rising irritation. “Messing with my sisters? Seriously?” He presses his cheek against mine in another dragon gesture of solidarity. “I want you to meet Keir, Therion, and Jax—they’re at Shadowcarve with us. They’re third years. Boz, Juke, and Leo are also in Shadowcarve. Juke and Leo are fourth years, and Boz is a second year.”
He points at the males as he names them, and they raise their hands in acknowledgment. The scents around the table are mixed—different species creating a complex bouquet of musk, stone, and something wild.
Leo tilts his head and arches a brow at Thorne as she approaches, dipping his head in her direction. She hands me a glazed donut that’s still warm, the sweet scent making my mouth water despite everything. “So we’ve asked your sister this question. I want to ask you the same one.”
I look him over, noting the way he moves with fluid grace. He’s definitely feline in nature—I just can’t pinpoint what kind. “Go for it.”
“As a dragon, would you reject a non-dragon mate?” He sips his orange juice, his eyes focused intently on me like a cat watching prey.
Laughing, I can’t help but smile at the coincidence. “Titan asked the same question just the other day.” Orpheus fills them in about the warhorse I’ve been riding and how Leander translated. “No, I wouldn’t reject a non-dragon mate. I draw the line at nagas—they creep me out.” I shiver at the thought, my wings ruffling with distaste. “Orpheus and I were born in the same clutch. Belle and Azalea are our sisters. We have a gryphon brother, a nightmare sister, and a gargoyle brother. We all share the same mom.” I nuzzle my brother affectionately, breathing in his comforting scent.
“A lot of dragons would reject a non-dragon mate,” the male named Jax says, his voice carrying judgment.
“My family isn’t a bunch of purists.” I glance across the cafeteria and spot Hemlocke’s distinctive silhouette. “I’m gonna go say hi to someone. I’ll be back.”
The cafeteria is quite crowded, but it’s amazing how quickly other creatures move when they see a black dragon on the move. Bodies part like water around a ship’s bow, creating a clear path.
“Slumming it?” Hemlocke says with a smirk that doesn’t quite hide his pleasure at seeing me. I can only assume the others at his table are his herd—everyone has the same black hair and distinctive pink eyes that mark them as his kind.
“Not at all. Three of my siblings are here in the southern dorms. I came to visit them. Plus, you guys have the best donuts.” I wave the pastry I’m holding, the glaze catching the fluorescent lights.
“You’re friends with a dragon?” A male with a large scar bisecting his face says to Hemlocke, his tone incredulous and slightly hostile.
“I am. She’s not like the other dragons—she’s gentle with the horses, and Titan chose her. Not the other way around.” Hemlocke makes it a point to stare at everyone at the table one at a time, his pink eyes flashing with authority.
“I’m sorry if I’m causing you problems, Hemlocke. I’ll get going.” I turn to leave, not wanting to create discord in his herd, but he moves and blocks my path. He’s much taller than I remembered, towering over me despite my own considerable height.
“Please stay,” he says softly, his voice carrying a note I can’t quite identify.
“My being here is causing you problems.” I smile up at him, craning my neck to meet his eyes.
“Nonsense. They’re stuck on keeping things the old way and not moving forward. A good person is a good person.” His conviction rings clear in his voice. “Titan has killed the last three riders that tried to get on him. He chose you because you’re a good person, Raven.”
“Wait—the Raven?” A female asks, staring at me with wide eyes that reflect recognition and fear.
