The next thing on my list is to bring her to Hemlocke. He deserves his happily ever after too, and I know Raven will want to complete all her bonds. The thought of sharing her should bother me, but it doesn’t—we’re both her mates, both part of her heart. If anything, it makes me love her more, knowing how much love she has to give.
For now, though, I’m content to hold her in this perfect moment, listening to her breathe and feeling the steady beat of her heart against my chest. After twenty-one years of waiting, I finally have everything I’ve ever wanted right here in my arms.
I hadevery intention of flying back the next morning, but Raven had other ideas. The memory of her passionate enthusiasm makes my silver scales warm along my neck. She wore me out completely, and we slept in until somewhere around noon, our bodies tangled together in exhausted satisfaction.
When I wake again, Raven is missing from the nest of furs where we’d fallen asleep. Her absence creates a cool spot beside me that feels empty despite the warmth of the cavern. I walk out of the shadowed entrance, and the brilliant afternoon sun almost blinds me. The contrast between the dim bioluminescent glow and full daylight makes me squint and shield my eyes with my hand.
There’s Raven sitting under the shade of a date palm, her back against its trunk. A small fire crackles nearby, sending wisps of aromatic smoke into the still air. Several fish cook on improvised wooden sticks, their skin crackling and golden. The scent of cooking fish mixed with wood smoke makes my stomach rumble with hunger.
“Morning, my love.” I purr with satisfaction, the endearment feeling natural on my tongue as I smile and walk over to her. I lean down and kiss her lips softly, tasting the salt air and something uniquely hers that makes my dragon content.
She beams up at me, her sapphire eyes sparkling in the dappled sunlight filtering through the palm fronds. The sight of her genuine happiness makes my chest warm with pride. She offers me a fish on a stick, the wooden skewer still hot from the fire. “I hope you don’t mind I went fishing for us. You looked so peaceful sleeping I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”
Her consideration touches something deep in my chest. She extends a talon with practiced ease, splits the back of the fish with surgical precision, and pulls the skin away in one smooth motion before eating. The casual display of her dragon nature mixed with domestic care is incredibly intimate.
I sit next to her on the warm sand, feeling the heat from the fire on my face and the gentle breeze carrying the scent of oasis flowers. “Not at all. Whoever is up first is more than welcome to hunt or cook.” The fish is perfectly prepared, flaky and seasoned with whatever herbs she found around the oasis. Raven smiles at me and nods, looking pleased with my approval.
“We should probably head back soon.” She stares at the position of the sun in the sky, squinting slightly as she calculates the time. The afternoon light catches the highlights in her black hair, creating an almost ethereal glow around her.
“Where are we going to stay?” I take a large bite of the fish, savoring the taste while watching her expression carefully. All the color drains from Raven’s face as if someone pulled a plug, leaving her looking pale and uncertain.
“I don’t know...” Her voice wavers with sudden anxiety. She digs around frantically in the small pile of belongings next to her and pulls out her phone. I watch her fingers moving at lightning speed over thescreen, typing with the desperate energy of someone trying to solve a crisis.
The next thing I know, my phone vibrates against my hip like an angry bee. I look down to see a flood of messages streaming across my screen in rapid succession. Raven has added me to the family chat, and the notification sounds create a constant buzz.
At the end of the seemingly endless stream of texts that fly across the screen, Mina offers the guest house by the gardens. The relief in Raven’s posture is immediate and visible. It will have to do until we can dig Raven’s nest off the main nest in the upper part of the mountain—a project that could take months.
I watch Raven’s eyes dart back toward her cavern entrance, then down to her phone again. The longing in her gaze is unmistakable. Her dragon has claimed this space, and leaving it feels like abandonment.
“If you feel safer here, we can come here to sleep at night.” I offer gently, reaching over to take her free hand in mine. Her skin is warm from the sun and slightly rough from her morning fishing expedition.
“I don’t want you to suffer because of my dragoness’s demands. She doesn’t want to be above ground. She wants to be in the mountain.” Her eyes drift back to the cavern with obvious yearning, and I can see the internal struggle playing out across her expressive features.
“How about this—we can help dig the new nest. I know your mom’s breath weapon is insane for breaking rocks.” I pause and look back at the cavern entrance, noting the perfect circular shape and the smooth walls visible from here. Something clicks in the back of my head like a puzzle piece falling into place. “How did you dig down into the cavern?”
The question hangs in the air between us, loaded with implications. I think Raven’s breath weapon is stronger than she’s letting on—possibly much stronger. The precision of the tunnels, the way thestone looks almost melted rather than chipped away, suggests a level of power that even her impressive bloodline shouldn’t account for.
Raven’s eyes shift to meet mine, and I catch a flash of something—pride, maybe, or perhaps a secret she’s been keeping. The afternoon sun casts shadows across her face, but I can see the slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Chapter 24
Raven
How much ofwhat I can do should I expose?The question churns in my stomach like acid as we prepare to return home.
The flight back to the nest of my birth makes my wings feel like they’re made of lead, heavy with the weight of secrets I’m carrying. My wyrm gift has already manifested—the ability to understand all species languages, something that shouldn’t come for decades. I’m already half my father’s size, making me bigger than Abraxis despite being barely twenty-one. My breath weapon, by my best estimate, is as strong as my father’s, maybe stronger. The power thrumming through my veins feels too much, too soon, too dangerous.
What am I supposed to do?
Do I act weaker than I am?
The questions spiral through my mind like a whirlwind as we soar through the afternoon sky. My eyes dart over to my mate as he flies to my right, positioning himself to protect my deaf side. The afternoon sun catches the silver of his scales, making them gleam like polished metal. Corvis is such a wonderful male—protective, understanding, devoted. I really got lucky with him, more than I ever deserved.
There’s still a week left of the gathering, and I really don’t feel safe in a building that can burn. The thought of being trapped above ground makes my skin crawl with anxiety. I don’t bother landing below with the other dragons milling about in the main courtyard. Instead, I fly to the upper courtyard and start circling, my eyes scanning the rocky crags in the mountain to the right of Mom’s nest.
Corvis lands in the stone courtyard and joins my parents and siblings as they watch me circle overhead. Their upturned faces are tiny from this height, but I can feel their attention like a physical weight. I see a spot that looks like it would suit our needs—a natural depression in the rock face that calls to something deep in my dragon’s soul.
Here goes everything.
