“Oh, okay. Well, romance away then.” She bounces up on her toes and kisses my lips sweetly, the contact sending warmth racing through my entire body.
I back away and shift into my black unicorn form, feeling the familiar rush of transformation as my human skin becomes armored hide that gleams like polished obsidian. The moment I change, my stallion’s voice becomes deafening—a roar of need and possession that makes my vision blur for a moment. I fight to keep control, to remember who I am beneath the ancient instincts.
Easy,I tell myself, feeling my human consciousness slip slightly as animal instincts surge forward.She’s precious. She’s everything. Don’t hurt her.
I position myself next to the fence so she can climb up more easily, my hooves striking sparks against the stone. Every muscle in my powerful body is coiled tight with barely restrained energy. I can feel my stallion testing the boundaries of my control, pressing against my consciousness like water against a cracking dam.
The weight of responsibility crushes down on me. If I lose control tonight, if I hurt her in any way, I’ll never forgive myself. The thought of causing her even a moment of pain makes my chest constrict with panic. But my family needs this bond completed—she needs it completed. The partial bond has been tearing at both of us, an incomplete connection that causes more pain the longer it remains unfinished.
I’m not sure what the game plan is yet—I’m kind of improvising, to be honest. We need privacy and the open sky above us for what’s to come. There are only really two safe choices: an island off the mainland or back to the oasis that Raven claimed as her own. Once Raven is seated securely on my back, her weight familiar and comforting, I trot north toward her sanctuary.
“Where are we going?” She asks, her fingers running through my mane in a gesture that sends shivers of pleasure down my spine.
‘I hope you don’t mind, but we’re heading toward your oasis. From what Corvis told me, it’s wide open and private,’I whinny to her as we pass other members of her family on campus, their curious gazes following our progress.
“Why don’t you let me fly us there?” The concern in Raven’s voice makes my heart ache with love for her consideration.
‘It’s important for my stallion that I carry you before the mating,’I explain, knowing she’ll understand the significance of the ritual. Dragons have similar requirements for their bonding ceremonies. But what I don’t tell her is how precarious my control feels right now, how my stallion is already pushing against the boundaries of my human consciousness.
Every step toward the oasis is a battle. My stallion wants to run faster, to claim her now, to complete what’s been burning in our blood for weeks. The moonlight hasn’t even reached full strength yet, and already I can feel my human thoughts becoming fuzzy around the edges, animal instinct bleeding through like ink through water.
Hold on,I think desperately to myself.Just hold on until we reach safety. Until we’re away from anyone who might get hurt if this goes wrong.
The fear that’s been eating at me crystallizes into sharp focus:What if the stories are true?What if the stallion breaks free completely and I become nothing more than a passenger in my own body? My father assured me the mate bond would keep me anchored, but fathers have been wrong before. The thought of Raven’s beautiful face twisted in fear because of something I did makes my chest feel like it’s being crushed by a boulder.
“Dragons have a similar need,” she acknowledges, leaning forward against my neck as I break into a gallop. Her musical laughter makes my heart swell with joy as I carry my mate north toward her den, my hooves thundering against the earth in a rhythm that matches my racing pulse.
We ride through her mother’s territory, and her sister Isolde comes galloping up beside us, her nightmare form wreathed in shadows and flame. She runs alongside us to the northern edge of the territory before veering away with a farewell whinny.
It amazes me, the diversity my mate grew up with—dragons, nightmares, displacers, and now unicorns. It explains why she’s so open to loving other species, why she accepts differences as natural rather than threatening. How many females would welcome a black unicorn into their nest without hesitation? How many would trust someone from a species known for violence and unpredictability?
I am truly a blessed male to have found someone with such an expansive heart. When I think of my brothers—Castor growing cynical after decades of searching, Theron becoming reckless in his desperation, Luna withdrawing from the world entirely—the magnitude of my fortune hits me like a physical blow.
But with that blessing comes terrifying responsibility. She chose me, trusts me, accepts me into her family. The thought that I might betraythat trust tonight, that my stallion might prove all the warnings about my kind correct, makes my galloping stride falter for just a moment.
Please,I pray to whatever gods might be listening.Please don’t let me hurt her. Don’t let me be the reason she regrets choosing me.
The sun continues its descent toward the horizon, and with each stride, we move closer to the moment that will either complete our bond or destroy everything I hold dear. My stallion’s voice grows louder with each hoofbeat, and I cling to my human consciousness like a man drowning in a storm-tossed sea.
Chapter 31
Raven
Every thundering impactof Hemlocke’s hooves sends vibrations through my bones as I grip his flanks. His muscles coil tighter beneath me with each stride—I can feel the unicorn clawing for control, desperate to break free. We crash through towering pines and twisted oaks, their branches whipping past my face as we blaze our own trail toward my hidden oasis. The sharp scent of crushed pine needles mingles with the musk of his sweat and the metallic tang of my fear. Tonight will either forge our bond—or destroy us both.
My stomach twists into knots.What if I’m wrong about this? What if tonight ends with one of us bleeding out in the dirt?
The leather contraption Daddy Balor pressed into my hands this morning weighs heavy in my pack. His dark eyes had been grim, his voice low and dangerous: “Dragon instincts don’t distinguish between mate and threat when they’re pushed too far, little one. Remember that.”
I spent last night on ScaleHub, scrolling through success stories and nightmares in equal measure. Posts about supernatural beings who lost control and accidentally killed their partners made my blood runcold. The black unicorn forums were the worst—their volatility makes nightmares look tame by comparison.
Corvis was eager when we experimented—another dragon understands the careful balance required when two apex predators come together. I can still see him tied up on my bed, droplets of sweat glinting between the rope patterns across his skin. Even then, my hands trembled as I knotted each restraint, knowing his dragon strength could match mine if something went wrong.
But Hemlocke carries distinct dangers. A black unicorn’s volatility is legendary—unpredictable, explosive, deadly.
I shake my head violently, forcing the heated memories away. Focus on survival, not desire. The unicorn’s presence presses against my consciousness like a living shadow, and I’m not sure how much longer Hemlocke can hold it back.
A thousand feet from the cliff that conceals my oasis, Hemlocke’s entire body locks up. His hooves dig into the earth, throwing up clods of dirt and dead leaves. My heart slams against my ribs as I slide off his back and stumble backward, putting precious distance between us.
