Chapter 52
Corvis
It’s beena week since Raven pressed her mother’s head to the soil, and everything has changed. My Raven has a different feel to her—a shift in the air around her, in the way she carries herself. It’s almost like she’s finally comfortable in her own skin. She’s slowly moving from being afraid of the power within her to becoming comfortable with it. The change is subtle but undeniable. Thauglor has taken her literally under his wing, his massive pitch-black form dwarfing hers during their flights. He guides her through his memories of how things used to be—ancient traditions, old protocols, the weight of leadership.
Today I watch my mate sit beside Klauth as he meets with other flight leaders in the great hall. The scent of old wood and dragon musk fills the air, heavy and ancient. He has his dragon close to the surface—that dangerous edge that makes lesser beings step back—to hide the power Raven is still learning to control. The males at the table are the elders of the different flights in the territory, their combined ages spanning millennia. I watch Raven taking notes in a leather-bound journal, her pen scratching across the parchment with soft whispers. Every once in a while, she writes something and slides it closer toKlauth. He glances down at it, his crimson-flecked amber eyes scanning her words, then he changes the angle of his head and adjusts the direction of the conversation. They’re working together seamlessly, and pride swells in my chest.
The meeting drags on for an hour, voices rising and falling in discussion. Klauth announces Raven is taking over Blackhaven as the flight mother over there. “Corvis is taking over as head drake for the den?” One elder asks, looking back at me with calculating eyes.
Raven winces, and I see her hand lower and rest about level with her stomach. Looking closer, I see under her jacket the straps of the egg carrier—orange shell just barely visible. “I have a cursed egg. If it hatches as the elder drake, he will become the lead drake. I will not announce which male is in charge of the nest’s safety just yet.” Her eyes lift, looking at the door where Thauglor stands, and he looks pissed off—eyes blazing sapphire fire, his jaw clenched. “Until a dominant drake is chosen, my father Thauglor will be deferred to.” A slow smile crosses her lips as she turns to look at Klauth. “Or my nest father and sire...” She raises her arm, pushing back her sleeve to show off the red scale marking her as his heir apparent—the crimson standing out against her pale skin like a brand. Looks like these old bastards forgot Raven ascended to heir apparent to the Marzana Empire. Whispers spread through the room like wildfire, voices overlapping in shocked murmurs. No one in their right mind will question Raven now.
The meeting comes to a close, and Raven hangs back while Klauth and Thauglor lead the others out. The sound of their footsteps echoes down the corridor, fading into silence. There’s a hesitancy in the way she’s looking at them—vulnerability she rarely shows. She doesn’t want to tip her hand yet, but she knows we can’t hide it forever. “Are you okay?” I ask as I move closer and take my mate in my arms, feeling the warmth of her body against mine.
Raven curls into me and wraps us in her wings—soft leather blocking out the world—and she draws in the first deep breath I’ve seen sincethe meeting started. “I am now. Thank you for being here.” She kisses my jaw, her lips warm and soft, and purrs so softly for me. The sound vibrates through my chest, settling something restless inside me. I hold my mate close and rest my cheek on the top of her head, breathing in her scent—smoke and spice and something uniquely Raven.
“Anything you need, just ask. If it’s within my power, I’ll do it.” I whisper just to her, and she squeezes me tighter. I feel a vibration through the egg carrier—a pulse of warmth and energy.
Raven laughs a little, the sound lighter than it’s been all day. “Solaris says you’re gonna give him a run for his money in the romance department.” Raven nuzzles my chest and sighs again, holding me tighter.
“As long as we keep you smiling, that’s all that matters.” I press my lips to her temple and smile, feeling the vibration from the egg intensify.
“He agrees.” Raven says before opening her wings and releasing me. Cool air rushes in where her warmth had been. She raises a brow, looking at me. “There’s an exodus from Mom’s flight to mine.” Raven’s grip on my hand tightens as we walk out to the lower courtyard, our boots echoing on the stone.
“Oh? How bad?” I arch a brow, looking at her.
“All the blink hounds, Lily, Thorne, Orpheus, and about a dozen other families.” She draws in a deep breath and looks at dragons launching, heading toward Blackhaven—dark shapes against the blue sky. “Construction has been nonstop since Mom announced my taking over last week.” Raven points at Leander and Hemlocke standing shoulder to shoulder, looking at the gardens. Sunlight catches on Hemlocke’s long black hair, making it gleam.
We catch up with them, and they turn as we approach. “Hey, guys.” Leander says as he shakes my hand—his grip firm—and hugs Raven. “The rough turnouts are being built in that upper field like you suggested.” Leander says to Raven.
“Our mate suggested letting the war horses that are in their rest cycles come to stay with us. We have the open fields, and the type of grass that is there is very good for them and replenishes quickly.” Hemlocke smiles, and I can’t miss the look of pride on his face—his pink eyes bright. “When the mares are getting close to foaling, they will rotate into that field to have the best nutrition and security for their young.” He and Leander look at Raven with an affectionate smile.
“What? I love foals—they are so stinking adorable. They have the softest noses, and their tiny hooves are so cute.” Raven practically squeals, her entire demeanor shifting from serious flight mother to excited girl.
Hemlocke and Leander’s eyebrows shoot up. “She’s not lying.” Leander says, amusement in his voice. “She stole my daughter so much Mina had to limit Raven’s solo watching Isolde time.” Leander gets a haunted look in his eyes mentioning his daughter, the levity draining from his face.
“No, no, no, shh... Dad, please...” Raven dives into Leander’s arms and hugs him tightly. They cry together, holding onto each other. The sound of their sobs makes my chest ache.
The same girl they’re crying over rounds the corner and sees them hugging it out. Isolde dives in and wiggles herself between her sister and father, her small form fitting perfectly between them. “I’m safe. I’m home.” She says over and over again, the words a mantra.
Hemlocke and I step back, giving them space, letting them have their moment. “Leander feels guilty that Raven broke her wing getting his daughter back. Isolde doesn’t go far from Titan now when she goes out, or she waits for Leander or me.” I watch Hemlocke bite his lower lip, worry etched on his face. “She’s going to ask to come with us,” Hemlocke says and turns to look back at the hugfest before us.
“That’s a good thing, right?” I ask, looking at him, tilting my head, not sure how to parse the information.
“Some of my brothers are coming to join us at Blackhaven too.” Hemlocke raises an eyebrow and motions toward Isolde. “Charron believes she’s his mate by scent.” Hemlocke purses his lips and turns his back to the hugfest, his shoulders tense. “Isolde hugged me before school one day, and I met my brothers in the cafeteria. Charron came up and bumped my shoulder and froze, then sniffed my shirt. I knew the look in his eyes. It’s the same one I had the first time I caught Raven’s scent.”
I arch a brow as I move Hemlocke away from Raven and the others, lowering my voice. “When do nightmares and unicorns know who their mate is?”
Hemlocke makes sure no one is looking, glancing around the courtyard. “Males as young as five. Females eighteen.” He looks between me and our mate, concern flickering in his pink eyes. “What’s the age difference?”
I try to think back to the year Ziggy went around abducting his nest mates—chaos and laughter and family forming. “Maybe four to five years, I think. So, as early as this winter?” I arch a brow and shrug.
“That gives Charron all summer and into the winter to get to know her and for her to get to know him.” Hemlocke looks back at Leander and Raven talking to Isolde, their heads bent together.
They turn and start walking toward us, and part of me feels as if I’m in trouble for something. I’m not sure what, but I have information about Raven’s sister that she may or may not have. “Hey, baby.” I open my arms to Raven, and she snuggles in immediately, fitting perfectly against me.
“So... we’ve got something to tell you.” Raven cocks her head, and her right eyebrow shoots up in a way that means she already suspects something.
“Okay. Hit me with it.” I press my lips to her forehead before passing her to Hemlocke, feeling the reluctance in letting her go.
