Chapter 9 Corvis
Corvis
In the four years at Shadowcarve, this year we have the most students we’ve had in generations.
Four out of seven of the Sovereign nest are here.
Thorne opted not to take the war route—she wrote it at the bottom of her test even though, by right, she should be here.
Lily didn’t want Abraxis riding her ass the entire time, so she opted out.
Allister was not allowed to join because he’s in line for the throne.
Thauglor stands in the observation room above us, his massive frame silhouetted against the stone archway as he watches Balor address the students.
The afternoon light filters through the narrow windows, casting sharp shadows across his face.
It was his idea to use actual swords to cut the numbers down.
Only the strong survive in Shadowcarve. The thought makes my chest tighten with worry for my mate.
I’ve never seen her raise a blade in anger.
She is probably the most gentle soul in that family, despite the darkness that runs through their bloodline.
“Azalea, Eris—ring six!” Another instructor’s voice cuts through the courtyard like a blade.
“Belle, Thomas—ring two!” He barks out several more pairings before the metallic ring of steel on steel echoes off the stone walls.
Azalea ends her fight in four moves, her blade finding its mark and drawing first blood from the fourth-year.
The crimson droplets hit the sand with tiny puffs of dust. Belle’s match lasts much longer—she’s toying with the male, her movements fluid and predatory.
Eventually, she draws first blood against the third-year, her sword catching the light as it arcs through the air.
The fights continue long into the afternoon, the scent of sweat and blood growing thicker in the courtyard. My silver scales along my neck prickle with tension as I wait. Finally, Raven’s name is called.
Before the instructor gets the chance to call her opponent, Allister enters the training area. His boots crunch against the gravel, and the familiar arrogance radiates from him like heat from a forge.
Raven rolls her sapphire eyes, the movement so subtle I almost miss it. She looks at the instructor, waiting with the patience of a predator for him to call her opponent. Thauglor makes his presence known just as Klauth walks in, shaking his head in frustration.
“Allister, you cannot walk out of a class like that!” Klauth’s voice booms across the courtyard, making several students flinch.
“Why? Don’t you want to see your heir apparent go against your oldest ally’s progeny?” Allister gets that cocky tilt of his head, and Raven shakes her head, black hair catching the dying sunlight.
Raven looks over her shoulder at her father. He nods, approving the match, and my heart nearly stops. Is he out of his mind? I stride over to stand beside him, my boots silent on the stone. “Sir?”
He glances down at me briefly, his sapphire eyes—so like his daughter’s—gleaming with something dangerous.
We watch Allister slip on only a leather jacket, the material creaking as he moves.
He walks around the courtyard looking for a sword, his movements casual and overconfident.
“This has been a long time coming. He’s always belittling the females in the nest. Klauth and I agree he needs to be taken down a peg.
” His eyes shift to those of his dragon, pupils elongating, and a malicious smile crosses his lips.
“My progeny is stronger than she looks.”
Raven flexes her wings several times, the black membranes catching the air with soft whooshing sounds.
Abraxis moves her to the larger sparring circle, his scarred hands gentle on her shoulders.
She ties her mask in place and fastens her hood; the leather securing with soft clicks.
All I can see now is the sapphire glow from her dragon’s eyes, burning like twin flames in the shadow of her hood.
“Oh, shit...” Thauglor breathes, and I whip my head toward him.
“What do you mean, oh shit?” My voice comes out rougher than intended. I glance from Raven to him, then back to Raven, my silver eyes reflecting my growing alarm.
“Her eyes. She’s tapping into the most primal part of herself.
” I watch him step forward, his massive boots echoing against the stone.
“You are not allowed to kill each other—do I make myself clear?” Thauglor stands between them, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud.
He waits for them to nod, then backs out of the ring, letting Balor take over.
Klauth comes to stand near us, shaking his head, worry etched in the lines around his eyes. “My son is in deep shit.” He points to the wall where Mina perches, watching every move like a hawk. Her claws dig into the stone, leaving small gouges.
Balor goes over the rules in detail, his voice carrying clearly in the sudden silence.
The tension in the air is thick enough to taste—metallic and sharp.
They bump fists, the sound echoing like a death knell, then back up, waiting for Balor to start the match.
Balor glances over at the two fathers. They nod, and he drops his hand.
Since Allister chose only one sword to fight with, Raven draws only one as well. The blade sings as it leaves its sheath, a sound that makes my scales ripple with recognition.
“Oh, come on, sis. You can use both of your little swords—I only need one to beat you.” Allister swings wildly, the blade cutting through air with a vicious whistle.
Raven moves out of the way like flowing water, tapping his sword with hers in a gentle correction that sends vibrations up both blades.
“I’m good.” Raven’s voice is soft, almost conversational, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. The last time she said that, she kicked Abraxis’s ass in a sparring match that became legend. Abraxis cringes, his face twisting with memory, and Klauth shakes his head in resignation.
“My heir chose poorly,” Klauth mutters as we watch Raven stay on the defensive, her movements economical and precise.
“What is she doing?” I ask Thauglor, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.
“She’s letting him wear himself out. He doesn’t train like everyone else.
He thinks just being Klauth’s heir grants him skill and strength he didn’t earn.
” Thauglor’s voice holds both pride and worry as we watch Raven essentially toying with her brother.
Her blade dances around his clumsy attacks, never quite engaging, never giving him an actual target.
The sound of claws shredding wood echoes in the courtyard like thunder.
I look up—Mina is missing from her perch.
Looking back at the ring, I see her pacing around the outside of the circle, watching her children with predatory intensity.
“Stop toying with each other and finish the fight!” she roars.
The fight changes instantly. Both Raven and Allister become more aggressive, their strikes carrying real intent now.
The sound of their swords clashing rings like thunderclaps echoing within the stone walls.
Sparks fly occasionally as steel meets steel, and they growl at each other with sounds more dragon than human.
Raven blocks a strike and comes in fast, her talons extending with wet, sliding sounds.
She slices across Allister’s arm, drawing a line of crimson that immediately drips.
Raven rips off her mask and roars at him, her wings spreading wide and casting shadows across the ring.
Black scales race up her throat like living armor, and I can see the bone plates shifting in her face as she stares at him with those burning sapphire eyes.
“Get in there!” Thauglor shoves me forward, and I stumble into the ring, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I step between Allister and Raven, holding my hands up, feeling the heat radiating from her skin.
“You won. You drew first blood.” I keep my hands raised as I try to get her to focus on me, my silver eyes meeting her sapphire ones.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the other instructors trying to clear the area without drawing attention to themselves.
Behind Raven, I catch a glimpse of Belladonna shifted into her dragonic displacer beast form, muscles coiled and ready to knock Raven out if I fail.
“Do you want to go flying? Maybe go visit Titan?” I’m trying anything at this point, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my throat.
“Want to go collect seashells?” Mina asks, her voice cutting through the tension like a lifeline.
That gets Raven to look at her. Her eyes flicker human for a moment—her human side fighting to resurface.
“We can all go if you like?” I offer something—anything—to get her out of this murderous rage. I’ve never seen quiet little Raven this angry, this lost to her dragon.
The blue flashes in her eyes again, brighter this time, and her talons slowly retract with soft clicking sounds. The sword falls from her hand, hitting the sand with a muffled thud. She drops to her knees and wraps herself in her wings, the black membranes creating a cocoon of shadow.
I look over my shoulder at Thauglor. He steps forward and kneels beside his daughter, his massive frame protective and gentle.
Whatever he whispers to her gets her to open her wings, only to slide them over his shoulders and under his.
He encloses her in his wings, and I hear them rumbling together—a deep, thrumming sound that speaks of comfort and family.
“She’s such a daddy’s girl, it’s not funny,” Mina says with a smile that doesn’t quite hide her concern. “Good call offering to do her favorite things.”
Mina looks over at Allister as Callan and Klauth bandage him up, the white cloth already staining red. “Is he going to be alright?” Part of me really doesn’t care—he’s an asshole who had this coming. But a small part does—he’s still Raven’s brother.
“Physically, yes. Ego-wise, no. He won’t try that shit again.” Mina’s smirk holds a predatory edge. “Dragon versus dragon, I’m honestly not sure who would win. His scales aren’t even close to what his sisters are.”
I tilt my head, looking at Thauglor and Raven snuggled together in their wings, the sight making something warm and protective unfurl in my chest.
“I’ve already thought about changing the line of succession, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Mina says loud enough for Klauth to hear.
“Allister has taken some of the worst traits from the red and green dragons. Greed, viciousness, and selfishness are not qualities of a good ruler.” Klauth nods and lowers his head in acknowledgment, his disappointment palpable.
I walk over and collect Raven’s sword, the metal still warm from her grip.
A laugh escapes my lips as I examine the blade.
“They’re very similar to mine. Maybe a bit heavier.
” I reach over my shoulder and draw one of my swords, the familiar weight comforting in my hand.
I hold it next to Raven’s, comparing them in the fading light.
Her hilt is shorter for her smaller hands, the leather wrapped precisely to fit her grip. The pommel is heavier than mine, but it balances out the longer blade. Her blade is about an eighth of an inch narrower than mine but an inch longer—perfectly crafted for her fighting style.
Mina draws her blade, the steel singing as it clears the sheath. It’s between what mine and Raven’s blades are—a middle ground of power and precision. “She liked aspects from both of our swords, so she had one made of her own.”
I study the three blades, seeing what she took from both to create her perfect weapon. Her small hand rests over mine, warm and soft, and I jolt, shocked she snuck up on me without making a sound.
“Sorry...” She takes her blade back from me, her fingers brushing mine with electric contact.
“Dad’s taking me flying. I need to work on better control with my breath weapon.
” Raven steps close, her scent of sea salt and jasmine filling my lungs.
She presses her cheek against mine and purrs softly, the vibration traveling through both our bodies.
The sound makes my scales shimmer involuntarily before she backs away.
“Thank you for...” She laughs and gestures toward the ring, unable to finish the sentence.
She slides the blade back into its sheath with practiced ease.
Then, she and Thauglor launch up into the sky, their powerful legs propelling them from the ground.
The wind from their wings stirs dust and loose stones.
Once they reach sufficient height, their black dragons explode into existence—a transformation that never fails to steal my breath.
It’s now that I see Raven is already a third of Thauglor’s size, her dragon form magnificent and terrifying. “Holy... She’s huge...” I breathe, looking at Mina and then Klauth.
“She’s growing at an alarming rate,” Klauth says, his voice heavy with implication as he watches the two dragons spiral higher.
“Raven spends a lot of her time as her dragon when no one is looking,” Mina tells me, and I take the hint. I need to shift more often so my drake grows to match hers.
“To deny the beast suppresses its power,” Klauth says, and Allister rolls his eyes. We rarely see Allister’s dragon, mostly because he has the softest scales out of all the hatchlings—a source of shame he tries to hide behind arrogance.
“I’m gonna go. I have things to do.” I say goodbye to everyone and walk out of Shadowcarve, my boots echoing in the stone corridors.
While Raven is out with her father, I have a beach to walk and treasures to find.
Seashells and sea glass don’t collect themselves, and my mate deserves the best gifts I can find.