Chapter 35 Raven
Raven
My dads and I walk to the edge of the field, our footsteps muffled by the thick summer grass.
The wind whips around us, carrying the scent of distant pine forests and the faint mineral tang of the ocean far below.
I look out over the expansion of Blackhaven’s lands—rolling hills and dark forests stretching toward the horizon, painted gold and crimson by the setting sun.
“What of the southern and eastern isles?” I turn to face my fathers, the wind tugging at my hair, pressing my gown against my legs. “They didn’t come to the gathering.”
I see them lock eyes, and I know that silent communication is passing between them. The subtle shift in their postures, the way their pupils dilate slightly—they’re talking among themselves in that ancient way I’m only beginning to understand.
“We’re not sure.” Klauth’s voice is measured, careful. The Dragon King turns to face me fully, his ancient eyes catching the dying light. “The invitations were sent.”
“What if they never got the invitations?” I glance between both of my fathers, my mind already racing down dark corridors of possibility. The wind shifts, carrying the sweet scent of wildflowers up from the valley below. “I feel like there may be more spies than we are aware of.”
As the words leave my lips, I feel Solaris arrive at my side before I see him. His warmth radiates against my arm, and then his lips press softly against my cheek, his stubble scratching pleasantly against my skin. The scent of aged oak and smoldering embers wraps around me like a familiar blanket.
“That would make sense.” Thauglor moves closer, his sapphire eyes—so like my own—fixed on my daughter in Solaris’s arms. Nova is awake; her mismatched eyes tracking the movement around her with surprising alertness. “What do you propose we do?”
“Depends.” I fold my arms across my chest, my wings rustling against my back as the wind catches their edges. “Tell me about both islands. From what I read, the Eastern Isles is ruled by a Queen and the Western by a King. Any reason there’s a Queen ruling the Eastern Isles?”
I glance between the three ancients, watching their faces for any flicker of information they might be reluctant to share.
“The Queen Giselle of the Eastern Isles takes in abused females and widowed females.” Klauth pulls out his phone, his clawed fingers scrolling through something on the screen. The blue light illuminates his weathered face. “So her island has a very low male population.”
“So Mom and I would be the best envoys to the island if we head there.” I gently take my daughter from my mate, cradling her against my chest. Her weight is warm and solid in my arms, her small wings pressed flat against her back beneath the blanket.
I kiss her forehead, inhaling that intoxicating newborn scent—milk and warmth, and something uniquely her.
Before I can form my next thought, Solaris’s hands cup my cheeks, his calloused palms warm against my skin. He holds me firmly, his amber eyes boring into mine with an intensity that steals my breath.
There’s pain in those eyes. Fear. His pupils flicker between round human and slitted dragon, his control is slipping in a way I’ve rarely seen from the ancient male.
“Not so soon, love.” His brogue is thick, rough with emotion. “I just got ye back, and our wee one just hatched.” His thumbs stroke across my cheekbones, the touch desperate, and tender all at once. “Maybe send someone tae the Northern Isles first? Then when the wee one is older, go with yer mum?”
I can feel through our bond how much the idea frightens him. The fear pulses against my consciousness like a second heartbeat—raw and primal and completely unlike the steady, ancient presence I’ve come to rely on. He’s terrified of losing me. Terrified of losing us.
I stare down into my daughter’s eyes, marveling at the one that’s half sapphire, half amber. The colors split perfectly down the middle, a visible reminder of both her parents meeting in one small form. She blinks up at me, and I swear I see understanding in that mismatched gaze.
“You’re right.” The words come easier than I expected.
The warrior in me wants to argue, wants to charge ahead, wants to solve every problem through action.
But the mother in me—this new, fierce, overwhelming part of me—understands.
“Klauth and I are needed here to use our influence to root out answers.”
I smile softly at Solaris and kiss him briefly, tasting the lingering sweetness of the mead he drank earlier. Against my lips, I feel all the tension melt from his face, the creases in his brow smoothing, his shoulders dropping from where they’d risen toward his ears.
I turn my gaze on Thauglor, my mind already shifting gears from mother to strategist.
“Take Abraxas with you.” My voice takes on the commanding tone I learned at my father’s knee. “With his military service record and influence, the two of you will be recognized as a threat.” I glance over at Klauth, confirming he’s following my logic, then walk to the edge of the cliff.
The wind is stronger here, whipping my hair around my face, threatening to tear the blanket from my daughter’s small form.
I wrap my wings around myself and Nova, creating a cocoon of black leather that blocks the worst of the gusts.
She coos softly at the sudden warmth, her tiny fingers curling against my chest.
“I know Lily has the cursed egg, but take her with you.” I speak over my shoulder to my fathers, my eyes fixed on the distant horizon where storm clouds are gathering. “On the off chance she finds a mate outside of the egg.”
My mind is running a mile a minute now, taking fragments of information and piecing them together in random possible orders. Patterns emerge and dissolve. Connections form and break apart. The picture is incomplete, but I can feel the edges of something lurking just beyond my understanding.
“I know that look.” Corvus’s voice comes from my left, and I turn to see him moving alongside me with Solaris. His silver hair catches the last rays of sunlight, his silver eyes sharp with familiar recognition. “You’re on the verge of figuring something out.”
I turn slowly and smile at him, warmth blooming in my chest. This male has known me my entire life—has watched me grow from a hatchling to a warrior to a mother. He can read me better than almost anyone else .
“You would know best.” I lean over and kiss his cheek, inhaling his scent of baked bread and honey. The comfort of it settles something anxious in my soul. “You’ve been around me my entire life.”
Slowly, I turn back to my fathers and walk with my mates over to them. The grass whispers beneath our feet, the wind carries the distant call of night birds, and somewhere below us, the rest of our family waits in the fading light.
“Here’s what I’m thinking.” I stop before the three ancients, my voice low and serious. “We have a spy in our ranks. Someone in Blackhaven and Sovereign both.” My wings shift against my back unwrapping from around my daughter, restless with the implications. “There’s also someone at the school.”
My eyes flick down to the baby in my arms, and for a moment, the world narrows to just her.
I watch her breathe—the tiny rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her pulse in her throat, the way her small wings twitch in her sleep.
So vulnerable. So precious. So completely dependent on me to keep her safe.
When I look up again, my eyes have hardened.
“How do you want to handle it?” Klauth tilts his head to the right—a gesture I’ve learned means I have his full, undivided attention. The Dragon King is listening.
“Feed false information to random people.” The strategy crystallizes in my mind as I speak, each word building on the last. “See what happens to narrow it down.” My eyes flick over to Thauglor.
“So far, I can speak mind-to-mind with Thauglor, and he can speak to you, Klauth. That’s how we’ll share important information from now on. Or using Xero.”
I look at my two mates standing beside me—Corvus with his war drake’s calculating gaze, Solaris with his amber eyes still soft from the earlier vulnerability.
“I can also talk to Solaris mind-to-mind.” I reach out and rest my free hand on Corvus’s arm, feeling the warmth of his skin through his sleeve. “My other mates I can connect with through direct contact.”
I let the information hang in the air for a few minutes, watching my dads process it. The implications are significant—a secure communication network that no spy can intercept, no matter how deeply embedded.
“It makes sense, come to think of it.” Thauglor paces, his movements restless with building energy.
The claws on the tops of his wings click against each other as he thinks—a sound I’ve heard my entire life, a sound that means his brilliant mind is working through a problem.
“You suspected one of the teachers after you hatched when Mina was a student.”
He stops in front of Klauth, and something passes between them—some shared memory, some old wound reopened.
“We never figured out who it was.” Klauth’s voice is heavy with decades-old frustration. “Then again, that attack when I hatched couldn’t have been pulled off by one insider.”
My blood runs cold.
The sensation starts at the base of my spine and spreads outward, raising goosebumps along my arms despite the warm evening air.That level of attack takes planning. That takes resources. That takes multiple people working in perfect synchronization.
“Mom told me about the day you hatched.” I adjust Nova in my arms, holding her closer, as if proximity alone can protect her from threats that existed before she was born. “I agree—to be that coordinated is more than a one-person job.”
I look around, find a stick lying in the grass, and crouch down. The earth is soft beneath my knees, slightly damp from recent rain. I draw a basic map of the school in the dirt, the lines rough but recognizable.