Chapter 2
Raven
Welcome to Dragonis...
We fly in a tight formation following Lily to the academy grounds, the mountain air crisp against my scales and filled with the scent of pine and distant snow.
The wind beneath my wings carries the promise of freedom and terror in equal measure.
Orpheus decides to hitch a ride with me while Belle is with Allister and Azalea is with Lily, his small form warm and reassuring between my shoulder blades.
“Are you nervous?” Orpheus asks as he preens my scales with gentle precision that sends tiny shivers of comfort through my massive frame.
I rumble softly to him that I’m fine, the sound vibrating through my chest like distant thunder.
We both know I’m not fine—it’s our first time out of the nest, away from the safety we’ve known all of our lives.
The familiar stone walls and protective presence of our family feel impossibly far away already.
“I’ll be honest, I’m a little on edge being sent to the lower dorms with the twins,” Orpheus admits, his voice tight with anxiety that mirrors my own.
I nod my head slightly, the movement sending ripples through the air currents around us.
The thought never crossed my mind—three out of the seven of us will be in a different building altogether, separated by more than just distance.
Lily roars, the sound echoing off the mountain peaks like a battle cry, and banks before starting a slow circle toward what looks like a landing field.
I can see my father standing on the edge with daddy Balor waiting for us to arrive, their familiar forms like anchors in a sea of strangers.
Where are our other fathers? I scan the area, watching for them with the keen eyes of a predator assessing potential threats.
Callan is with Leander, talking off to the side, their body language relaxed but alert.
Abraxis is close to Mom as she waves at us, her hand cutting through the air in a gesture that makes my heart squeeze with homesickness.
Vaughn is handing out envelopes at a long table, the papers rustling in the mountain breeze.
Klauth is talking to what looks like a small bunch of elders off to the side, his posture commanding respect even from a distance.
Once Lily clears the field, Thorne goes in next and takes her time flexing her frill, the membrane catching the sunlight like stained glass.
She looks like a carbon copy of Mom except for a few minor details—the angle of her horns, the pattern of scales along her neck.
Allister goes next and makes a big show of his landing, his wings spread wide in a display that screams royal privilege.
I rumble to Orpheus, There goes the royal ass.
The vibration of my amusement travels through my scales to where he sits.
He laughs, the sound bright against the mountain air. “I agree—someone needs to knock him down a peg,” Orpheus says, and I’m not sure how serious he is, but the edge in his voice suggests he’s more than a little tired of our brother’s arrogance.
Dad flares his wings, and I know it’s my turn to land.
The idea of shifting back in front of people outside of our nest makes my stomach clench with anxiety, scales along my sides rippling with nervous energy.
Female black dragons rarely have wings in their human form, and I know I’ll draw stares and whispers the moment I shift.
“I’ll be with you, Raven, don’t worry. No one is going to mess with you. Besides, look to the right.”
I look right and there’s Corvis and the other instructors from Shadowcarve, their familiar forms like bastions of safety in this sea of strangers.
Knowing he and his friends are here, I can relax a little, my scales settling back into their natural pattern.
He’s been training with us for as long as I can remember, his presence as familiar as family.
He’s practically family, really. Though something about the way he looks at me sometimes makes my stomach flutter in ways, I don’t quite understand.
Without further hesitation, I land softly in the field, my talons touching earth without making a single sound—a skill Mom drilled into all of us until it became second nature.
I remain standing, keeping my brother out of reach of everyone gathered below, protective instincts flaring even though I know he’s safe.
Dad steps forward and gives the signal it’s safe, so I lay down, feeling the cool grass beneath my warm scales.
I hesitate for a moment before shifting back to my human form, feeling my bones compress and reshape, scales receding to reveal human skin.
The transformation leaves me momentarily vulnerable, and before anyone can say two words to me, I rush into my father’s open arms. We wrap each other up in our wings, his massive black membranes creating a cocoon of safety that smells like home—leather and warmth and the faint scent of his cologne.
The whispers around us filter through our protective barrier, voices carrying on the mountain air like scattered leaves.
No one has seen a female black dragon with wings in generations.
Wait until they see how many scales I have on my back, the intricate patterns that mark me as something unique and potentially dangerous.
I sigh softly, and my dad purrs, the sound rumbling through his chest and into mine like a lullaby of protection.
“You’re safe, little one. No one will dare touch a hair on your head,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice carrying the absolute certainty of a father’s love and the deadly promise of an ancient dragon’s protection.
“I know. It’s just that I’ve never left home,” I admit, the words tasting like confession and fear. I shrug my shoulders and look up into the same sapphire eyes I have, finding comfort in the familiar depths that reflect my own.
“This will be a wonderful experience for you and your siblings. You can always fly home on the weekends with us,” he says, his smile warm as summer sunshine as he boops me on the nose with one gentle finger.
“Yeah, I keep forgetting about that.” A soft laugh escapes my lips, the sound carrying relief and nervous energy in equal measure.
“I should go get my envelope and room assignment.” I hug my dad tight once more, breathing in his scent and committing it to memory, before leaving the safety of his wings.
The first few steps away from him, I feel a tightness in my chest, like invisible hands squeezing my ribs.
It’s just my nerves getting the better of me, but the sensation makes my wings twitch with the urge to flee back to his protection.
I head toward the line of students at the admission table, my boots silent on the grass, wings folded tight against my back.
Thorne pulls me in line with her, and we laugh together, the sound bright and familiar in this strange new place. “How’s Dad holding up?” Thorne bumps my shoulder as she smiles, and those blood-red eyes remind me so much of Daddy Balor’s basilisk form it makes my heart ache with homesickness.
I turn and look back at him, and he and Mom are hugging, their forms pressed together like they’re trying to memorize each other’s shape. “He’s having as much trouble as I am.”
“You’ve been his shadow for twenty years. Whatever Daddy Thauglor was doing, you were right there with him,” Thorne observes, her voice gentle with understanding.
“You were Mom’s shadow,” I point out, furrowing my brows as I look at her. “Who’s surname are you using?” Thorne is a miracle, being a combination of the three fathers of our clutch and our mom, her very existence defying the normal laws of dragon genetics.
“I listed all three fathers’ surnames as my own,” Thorne says with a smile that lights up her entire face, and I can’t help but laugh at her audacity.
“That’s one way to do it.” We share a good laugh as she gets called up next, the sound echoing off the mountain walls. Thorne waves her envelope at me, then goes to sit on the stone bench off to the side, her movements graceful despite her obvious nervousness.
“Next!” From the memories Dad showed me, this is Anipe, her voice sharp with administrative efficiency. I step up to the table, feeling the weight of curious stares like physical pressure on my skin.
“Raven Mrithun, daughter of Queen Willamina Ragnar and Thauglor Mrithun,” I announce my name and bloodline like Father told me to do, my voice carrying clearly across the courtyard despite my nervousness.
Anipe freezes in her movements, her pen hovering over the paper, and she slowly looks up at me with eyes that widen with recognition and something that might be fear.
She hands me an envelope marked with the founder’s seal, her fingers trembling slightly.
“Join your sisters. You’ll be in the dragon dorms with Lily and Thorne.
” I move out of the way and join up with my sisters, the envelope warm in my hands.
“So? Let’s go make ourselves at home.” I loop my arms with my sisters and tilt my head, looking at them with forced confidence that I hope sounds more convincing than it feels.
Lily rolls her eyes and smirks, the expression so familiar it makes my chest tight with affection. “Intelligence test tomorrow for you two. Let’s get you settled in. Daddy Ziggy is walking everyone up to the dorms today.” Lily has a smirk plastered on her lips that promises mischief and adventure.
“Dragons! Time to head to the dorms.” Ziggy’s voice carries across the courtyard, warm and familiar as a favorite blanket, and I can’t help but smile at him as we approach, his presence like a piece of home in this strange place.
“Who’s the freak with the wings?” A shrill female voice cuts through the air like a blade, sharp with disdain and loud enough to carry across the courtyard.