Chapter 14 Raven #2
I walk into my den, the cool stone welcoming after the heat of flight and emotion. When I reach the far back where it opens into a natural cavern system, I shift again. My dragon form fills the space perfectly, scales scraping against stone worn smooth by centuries of water flow.
I lay down in the mineral-rich waters of the hot spring, letting the heated liquid envelop everything but the tip of my muzzle.
The water smells of iron and earth, ancient and comforting.
The heavy mineral scent will mask my presence completely, and being this far underground means my scent won’t carry or linger in the oasis above.
The flowers will see to that, their heavy perfume disguising any trace of dragon.
Good luck finding me here, hidden in the bowels of the earth like some mythical creature from old stories.
Taking a nap while submerged sounds like a wonderful idea—a chance to escape consciousness and the crushing weight of my revealed inadequacies.
The warm water laps at my scales like a lullaby, promising temporary peace in the depths where no one can judge me for being less than perfect.
I don’t know how long I’ve slept, but I’m awakened by the sensation of someone or something entering my sanctum.
The subtle shift in air pressure, the barely perceptible change in the cavern’s acoustics—all the signs my dragon senses have learned to recognize.
I breathe in deep, tasting the familiar minerals and earth on my tongue, then fully submerge in the deep, dark waters.
The liquid embraces me like silk, warm and comforting against my scales.
Black dragons—or as I prefer to call myself, a skull dragon—used to live in and hunt in swamps. The murky depths are our natural element, where we’re most dangerous and most at peace. This underground spring feels like coming home to something ancient and primal.
“Her dragon was here.” I hear Mom’s voice filtering through the water, the sound distorted but unmistakably hers. The mineral-rich liquid conducts sound differently, making everything seem distant and dreamlike.
“She’s still here.” Dad’s deeper tone carries more clearly through the water, vibrating through my bones. “Leave her to me.” The authority in his voice brooks no argument, and I feel the vibrations of at least three sets of distinct footsteps retreating through the stone passages.
When I’m certain it’s just Dad and me, the cavern holding only our shared presence; I rise out of the water.
Droplets cascade from my massive form, creating ripples that echo off the cavern walls.
I look down at him—so small from this perspective, yet radiating the power that marks him as one of the most dangerous beings alive.
There’s a gentle smile on his face, and he backs up several steps, giving me room to maneuver.
The gesture speaks of understanding and respect for my current emotional state.
I step out onto the black sand that lines the spring’s edge, my claws leaving deep impressions in the fine grains, and shift back to human form.
The transformation leaves me standing in my damp leathers, but there’s no discomfort between us. Family doesn’t judge. “How did you find me?” I ask, wrapping my arms around myself as the cooler air raises goosebumps along my exposed skin.
“We’re drawn back to the place where we’re conceived.” He states the fact plainly, his sapphire eyes taking in the carved stone walls and natural formations around us. “You dug a nice nest.”
“Most of the cavern was already here. I just had to dig down to reach it.” The admission feels like sharing a secret.
He opens his arms, and I let him hold me, his warmth seeping into my chilled skin.
His shirt grows damp where I press against him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Did you come to end me?” I tilt my head back to look up into my father’s eyes, searching for any hint of disappointment or rejection.
“End you? Absolutely not.” His voice carries fierce protectiveness, the tone of a father defending his child.
“So what if you can’t see two colors and are deaf on one side?
That doesn’t define you, Raven. You have a good heart, and you’re very smart.
That’s what defines you—nothing else.” He punctuates his words by kissing my forehead, his lips warm against my cool skin.
“Did you tell my mate?” I look down at the black sand beneath our feet, unable to meet his eyes for this question. The grains are fine as powder, worn smooth by centuries of water flow.
“I did.” He gently lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Your mate doesn’t care. You’re a good female, and that’s all that matters to him.” The certainty in his voice makes something tight in my chest loosen.
I nod, letting my father’s words sink into the wounded places in my heart. The acceptance feels foreign after so much fear and shame.
“So now what?” I glance around at the interior of my cavern, taking in the smooth stone walls and the way the spring’s steam creates shifting patterns in the air.
“Is this where you want your nest?” Dad asks, following my gaze as he surveys my hidden sanctuary.
The question makes me consider the space with fresh eyes.
“I think I want to go to ground here, eventually. But I want a safe passage connected to where you and Mom are.” I pause, thinking through the implications.
“Once I have hatchlings, I’d rather have the safety of the flight nearby.
” Deep down, I know black dragonesses become violently protective when they have eggs to guard—territorial to the point of killing anything that comes too close.
“We can make that happen.” His response is immediate and practical. “Anything else?” He runs his fingers through my damp hair, the gentle motion soothing frayed nerves.
“I want to get the implant in my arm.” I rub my forearm where the contraceptive device would go; the skin is pale and unmarked.
“My education is very important, especially since I need to add politics to my courses now.” The words come out in a rush, and I force myself to slow down.
“I’m not saying I don’t want hatchlings one day.
Just not now—there’s too much I need to learn and do before then.
” I stare into my father’s sapphire eyes, hoping he understands the weight of this decision.
His expression doesn’t change, but I catch a flicker of something—perhaps disappointment, perhaps relief.
“As much as I don’t like the idea of chemicals in your system, I respect your decision.
I’ll call the doctor and have him come see you this weekend.
” The compromise costs him something, but he offers it freely. “I love you, little one.”
“I love you too, Dad.” The words feel like a benediction, washing away the last of my fears about his reaction.
He hugs me one last time, his embrace fierce and protective, then walks out of my cavern.
His footsteps echo off the stone walls as he navigates the narrow passages leading back to the surface.
I watch him leave, standing in my damp leathers in my sanctuary, and just stare at the empty space where he was.
My mate still wants me despite my flaws.
My father understands and accepts my wishes for my body and future.
I have a place that is entirely mine, carved from rock and hidden from the world’s judgment.
Today wasn’t a complete shit show after all.
I shift back to my dragon form, my massive body filling the cavern with familiar weight and presence.
The transformation feels like coming home to myself—scales replacing skin, power flowing through muscles designed for destruction and flight.
I walk back into the deep water, each step sending ripples across the surface.
Slowly, I lay back down in the position that’s become natural—submerged except for the tip of my muzzle, which rests on the sandy shore like a black stone.
The hot water and dissolved minerals feel incredible against my scales, each one relaxing under the therapeutic heat.
The iron-rich liquid carries the scent of deep earth and ancient stones, a perfume that speaks to something primal in my dragon soul.
For now, I need to sort through my feelings without interference—to process the revelations and acceptance of this day without the weight of others’ expectations. The cavern holds me like a womb, dark and warm and safe, while I figure out how to integrate this new understanding of myself.
The water laps gently against my scales with each breath, a rhythm as soothing as a heartbeat. Steam rises in lazy spirals, carrying away the last of my fears and leaving something new in their place—not perfection, but acceptance. Perhaps that’s enough.