Chapter 6 Raven
Raven
My head is a pounding mess, each pulse of pain feeling like someone turned my skull into a pinata and let loose with sledgehammers.
Even after my most brutal training sessions, I never hurt like this—every thought feels wrapped in cotton and soaked in agony.
My limbs are slow to respond as I try to move and open my eyes, my body heavy as if I’m swimming through thick honey.
That tonic really kicked the hell out of me, leaving me feeling like I’ve been trampled by a herd of war horses.
Eventually, I get my eyes to open, though the world is blurry and unfocused, shapes bleeding together like watercolors in rain.
I blink my eyes several times before they clear up, bringing the stone chamber into sharp relief.
Lying before me is Corvis. There’s a body pillow between us, and he’s asleep with his back to the door.
His broad shoulders creating a protective barrier between me and any potential threat.
He’s putting himself in harm’s way to watch over me, and the realization makes my chest tight with something I can’t quite name.
I have no idea how long I’ve been sleeping, but my entire body is stiff, muscles protesting every slight movement like I’ve been carved from stone.
Carefully, I scoot a little closer and study him, drawn by an irresistible urge to memorize every detail.
His hair is silver, like his dragon’s scales.
Each strand is iridescent in the torchlight that flickers against the cavern walls, creating shifting patterns of light and shadow.
I reach out and brush his hair away from his face.
The strands are soft as silk between my fingers and warm from his body heat.
He has a slight bend to his nose from when we were sparring a few years ago and I broke it with an overly enthusiastic strike, the imperfection somehow making his face more interesting rather than less.
His lips are full for a man, with a perfect cupid’s bow that makes me wonder what they would feel like pressed against mine—a thought that makes heat rush to my cheeks.
Shaking my head, I smile to myself, the expression feeling strange on my face after sleeping for so long.
The first love of a little girl, hopeless and pure and utterly impossible.
If my father ever found out that I had a crush on Corvis for most of my life, he would kill him on the spot without hesitation.
Then again, so would my mate, whoever he is.
Shit. Is he worried about me? Does he know where I am?
The thought makes my stomach clench with anxiety.
Most times males make themselves known to the father of the female before she’s able to sense him, but what if mine is different?
I see Corvis waking up, his breathing changing from the deep rhythm of sleep to something lighter. I close my eyes, leaving them slitted open just enough that I can see everything he’s doing through my lashes.
He opens his eyes slowly and looks around, then back at me, his silver gaze sharp and alert despite having just awakened.
His eyes are slitted like his dragon’s, the pupils narrowing to vertical lines that catch the torchlight like polished metal.
Slowly, he reaches out and moves my hair, his fingers gentle against my scalp as he checks my scales, I guess.
A relieved breath escapes him, the sound soft in the quiet chamber, and he grabs his phone to text someone, the screen’s blue light casting his features in sharp relief.
Mom comes in, her footsteps silent on the stone floor, and rests a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good male, Corvis—she’s lucky to have you,” Mom says softly, her voice carrying approval and something deeper that I can’t quite identify.
He nods and tilts his head, watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle with awareness. “I just want to see her happy.” The honesty in his tone pulls at my heartstrings, the sincerity so raw it makes my chest ache.
“The winter formal is coming up in a little over three months. I would like you to ride with Raven as her guard.” The way Mom is staring at me, I know she knows I’m awake, her maternal instincts as sharp as any blade.
“I would be honored.” He bows his head and stands, his movement fluid despite having slept on stone. “I’m going to grab the cooler and hit the bathroom. I’ll be back quickly.” I watch Mom nod at him, and he turns and leaves, his footsteps fading into the tunnel beyond.
“Raven, I know you’re awake.” Mom sits before me, and I open my eyes fully, abandoning the pretense. “Out of all my kids, you are the best at faking being asleep. It’s your eye color that gives you away.” I furrow my brow, looking at her with confusion that must be written all over my face.
She saw the brighter blue of my dragon’s eyes bleeding through, the telltale glow that marks our kind.
“I’ll remember that in the future.” Slowly, I stretch one wing at a time before sitting up completely, feeling joints pop and muscles protest the movement.
“Do I really need an escort for the formal?” I keep twisting, trying to loosen up tight muscles that feel like they’ve been bound in iron.
“As a princess, you need an escort,” Mom says firmly as Corvis comes back with food and drink, the scent of fresh bread and roasted meat making my stomach growl with sudden hunger.
“I am not in the line of succession. I don’t count.” Turning, I accept the sandwich from Corvis and a drink, our fingers brushing briefly in a contact that sends electricity up my arm.
“Bahamut forbid if Klauth and his heir suddenly die, that means your father is next in line. As his firstborn heir, you will be in line to rule.” I almost choke on my drink, the liquid going down the wrong way and making me cough violently.
Corvis pats me on the back until I can breathe normally, his touch gentle but firm through the fabric of my shirt.
Closing my eyes, I shake my head, the political implications making my brain hurt worse than the tonic hangover. “Between Klauth’s temper and Allister’s mouth, it’s possible.” As I open my eyes, I raise both eyebrows. The reality of royal succession suddenly feeling very real and very dangerous.
“Don’t remind me.” Mom turns and looks over at Corvis, her expression shifting to something more businesslike.
“You need to take Raven to learn to ride the war horses.” Before I can protest, Mom raises her hand to stop me, the gesture carrying absolute authority.
“Unlike you, your other siblings have been going for riding lessons for years.”
As I stand, I spread my wings wide, feeling the membranes stretch and the joints pop with relief. “Until now, I didn’t need to ride.”
“And you can’t fly during the procession,” Mom says, arching a brow at me, knowing full well I may try it anyway. The look in her eyes suggests she’s already considered tying me to the horse if necessary.
“Fine, I’ll go shower and then meet you at the stables.
” I look over at Corvis and lower my head slightly to him before leaving the room, the gesture feeling more formal than our usual interactions.
Only my first three steps outside of the room are heard before I move like a wraith through the house, my feet silent on stone floors that smell of age and dragon musk.
I step into my room and take a quick shower, the hot water sluicing away the last remnants of the tonic’s effects and making me feel more human again.
Before searching my closet, I pause, noting that something feels different.
Shaking my head, I see my mother had already been in my closet.
Riding clothes and boots somehow arrived since the last time I was in here, the leather rich and supple and smelling of new craftsmanship.
Reluctantly, I get dressed and leave my room, heading toward the doors, the riding boots making soft sounds on the stone that echo differently than my usual footsteps. “Heading out?” My father says as he steps out into the hallway, his massive frame filling the doorway.
“Mom is sending me for riding lessons. Apparently, I’m riding in the procession.” I shrug my shoulders as I look up at him, seeing my own sapphire eyes reflected in his ancient gaze.
He flexes his wings, the membranes catching the light filtering through tall windows, and smiles. “I was already told I’m not allowed to fly either.” At his words, we laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls with shared amusement and resignation.
“We tried,” I say as my father loops his arm with mine to walk me out, his warmth solid and reassuring against my side. “Shifting or flying out?” he asks as we stop in the middle of the upper courtyard, where the mountain air is crisp and clean.
“To deny the beast is to restrict its growth and weaken it,” I smile as I repeat back to my father one of the first lessons he gave me when he taught me to fly, the words as familiar as my own heartbeat. “I’ll shift and fly. It’ll be nice to feel the wind against my scales.”
“Good, I’d like to see how she’s grown.” My dad backs away, giving me room to shift, his eyes bright with paternal pride and curiosity.
I can see my mom and Corvis coming out of the house, their figures moving across the courtyard with purposeful strides.
My eyes move to my father as I focus on my shift, feeling the familiar pull deep in my bones.
Scales of midnight ripple over my body as I grow and shift, the transformation flowing through me like liquid fire.
The world shrinks below me as I become my dragoness, reality reshaping itself to accommodate my true form.
I turn my head slowly to watch each wing stretch out, feeling the membrane pull taut and catch the mountain breeze that carries the scent of pine and snow. When the shift is over, I lay down so my father can look my dragoness over, folding my legs beneath me with careful precision.
“You’ve grown again, Raven.” He steps close to me and rests his hand on the start of the curve of my horn on the side of my head, his touch warm against the polished bone. Unlike my father, my horns are silver from the start, gleaming like captured moonlight in the afternoon sun.
“Your dragoness is magnificent,” Mom says as she gets closer, her voice filled with maternal pride that makes my chest warm.
She takes her sword and knocks the hilt against my scales, the metal ringing like a bell against my hide.
“I think your scales are harder than mine. I didn’t think that was possible. ”
Now Dad tries knocking his hilt against my scales, the sound different—sharper, more resonant.
“I believe you’re right, Mina. Our daughter took our most terrifying traits.
” Dad has that feral look in his eyes, the same look that I saw the one time a blue dragon male tried to buy me.
He slaughtered him immediately, the memory still makes me shiver.
“Time to get going. Corvis, take the lead,” Mom says, and he takes off running, then shifts mid-stride and takes flight.
His dragon is a silver and iron dragon cross, its scales catching and reflecting sunlight like polished steel.
He looks more like he took after the silver in his blood, his hide gleaming where mine seems to absorb light like a living shadow.
I rise and run before taking off, feeling the familiar joy of flight fill my chest like captured starlight.
With each flap of my wings moves me faster, and I catch up to Corvis, our flight paths interweaving like dancers in the sky.
We play in the clouds, gliding back and forth above and below each other, our movements synchronized in ways that feel natural as breathing.
There’s a comfort in our flight, almost like we are dancing in the clouds, our bodies moving in harmony despite our different natures.
In four short months, this is all over. The thought hits me like a physical blow, making my chest tight with unexpected sadness.
It almost makes me melancholy thinking that I’ll never see my childhood crush after my mate makes his presence known, that this easy companionship will be lost to destiny.
Corvis banks to the right and circles down to land, his descent graceful as falling silk.
I guess the stables are close to here. Drawing in a deep breath, I smell them then—horses and something else that’s equine but also touched by darkness, wild and fierce and tinged with supernatural power.
I watch Corvis land and then shift back, his transformation fluid as water, before I go in for my landing.
When my feet touch the ground, I look around before I shift back, taking in the unfamiliar landscape with eyes trained to spot threats and opportunities.
The grass beneath my feet is thick and soft, and the air carries scents of leather and hay and something else that makes my scales prickle with unease.
“Let’s look around and find you a horse to ride,” Corvis says as he motions to the stables on the other side of the field, the buildings looming like dark promises against the mountainside.
This is either going to be the greatest experience of my life or absolutely the worst day of my life.
I stare at the stables and turn my face toward the winds blowing across the field, letting my enhanced senses catalog every scent and sound.
Something new is here, a creature that wasn’t here before, and the knowledge makes my dragon stir with interest and wariness in equal measure.