Chapter 32 Hemlocke
Hemlocke
I made love to my mate at least half a dozen times last night.
This morning I awaken to find her sleeping with her head on my chest, one leather wing draped over us like a protective blanket.
The membrane is warm and surprisingly soft against my skin.
Her steady breathing creates a gentle rhythm that matches the distant sound of waves lapping against the shore outside.
The soft crunch of boots in sand makes me turn my head toward the cavern entrance. Corvis enters slowly, his hands raised in surrender, silver hair catching the morning light that filters through the opening.
“I’m glad everything worked out,” he whispers as he sets a cooler down beside him with barely a sound.
I nod and look down at Raven. She looks like a fallen angel when she sleeps—the smooth planes of her face painted in perfect peace, dark lashes resting against her cheeks.
“It was touch and go for a bit. Raven trusting me not to hurt her is what made the difference.” I whisper as she stirs, her wing twitching slightly.
“Hi Corvis...” Her voice comes out so softly that if it weren’t completely quiet in here, we never would have heard her.
“Hi baby. Ready to go home?” Corvis brushes her tangled hair away from her face with gentle fingers.
“Can’t walk. Too poofy and tired.” She yawns and nuzzles against my chest before drawing her wing over her face like a shield from the world.
A laugh escapes my lips as I shake my head, looking down at her. “She wasn’t expecting me to go all night.” I gently run my fingers up and down her back, feeling the tension in her muscles as I work to soothe them.
“All night?” Corvis’s eyebrows shoot up, his pale eyes widening.
“Yeah, don’t drakes breed their females multiple times in a night? Stallions are expected to handle the needs of a herd of up to fifteen females if we’re lucky.” I watch Corvis go pale, the color draining from his face as if someone pulled a plug.
“No, drakes get one female if they’re lucky. We only breed when they allow us to.” His eyes drift to Raven, then back to me with something like awe mixed with concern.
“Oh...” I’m honestly shocked to learn that.
The cultural differences between our species run deeper than I thought.
“Raven tapped out about two hours ago. Well, she fell asleep on me about two hours ago.” I press a soft kiss to the apex of her wing, and she wiggles off of me, encasing herself completely in her wings like a cocoon.
Slowly I stand and stretch, hearing bones pop and my back crack.
The cool morning air raises goosebumps along my bare skin.
Reaching for the cooler, I dig through the ice and grab a breakfast sandwich wrapped in foil.
“Should we call for Evan to come get us? I don’t think she’s going to get up for a while. ”
As if on cue, Raven’s slender hand pokes out from the top of her wing cocoon. She gives us the middle finger before pulling it back inside.
Corvis spits his drink, liquid spraying across the sand, and all I can do is laugh as I pull my cargo pants over my boxers.
The fabric feels rough against my sensitive skin.
Reaching into the pocket, I pull out my phone and shoot Evan a text to come get us.
The phone pings almost immediately—he says give him five minutes.
Apparently, Thorne and Lily had a sleepover in our apartment with the two cursed eggs.
He’s finishing up making the girls’ breakfast. “He’ll be here in five. ”
Corvis and I work in silence, gathering up the scattered remnants from last night.
Rope coiled neatly, empty water bottles, discarded clothing.
Thankfully, Raven had enough energy left to get dressed before she collapsed.
The salt-tinged air shifts suddenly, carrying the familiar electric taste that signals displacer beast magic.
Within seconds, Evan materializes beside us with a huge grin.
“Hey gu—” Corvis slaps a hand over Evan’s mouth so fast it’s almost violent.
“Shhhh... one thing I’ve learned is you don’t want to wake Raven up when she’s sleeping. She will literally try to rip your head off.” Corvis whispers urgently as I check to see if Raven is still cocooned and breathing steadily. I give them the thumbs-up.
“I’ll put Raven in her room first, then come back for you two.” Evan’s voice drops to barely a whisper as he approaches Raven’s wing bundle. The moment he makes contact, they both vanish from sight, phasing back to our apartment at Malivore.
“Looks like she bit you up good.” Corvis reaches out and turns my head from side to side, examining the evidence of our night.
There’s a bite high on the side of my neck that throbs with each heartbeat—no clothing I own will cover it.
The second bite sits on my opposite shoulder, deeper and more possessive.
“Yeah, she did. She said the oddest thing, though.” I shake my head as I gather the last of our things, my fingers unconsciously touching the tender wounds.
“What was that?” Corvis asks as Evan returns and takes the bags without a word.
“She said my blood reminded her of apple cider. It apparently has a strong cinnamon and clove flavor to it.” I arch a brow, looking at Corvis, and his face shifts to something like concern.
“Leander told me that Mina says his blood tastes like candied apple to her. Do you think it’s because you’re not a dragon?” Corvis’s voice carries worry now, and honestly, I have no idea what to think.
Evan returns to collect us, and all I can think about as we prepare to phase is this unsettling realization: I taste like food to my mate. This is quite concerning.
Evan spends the better half of the afternoon helping me get moved into the nest. We work in tense silence, phasing from place to place, the air crackling with residual magic after each jump.
The efficiency should feel satisfying, but something gnaws at the back of my mind—a prickle of unease I can’t shake.
Ever since hearing someone had left a severed drow head for Raven, I’ve been hyperaware of every shadow, every unexpected sound.
“I definitely feel safer having you guys across the hall from us.” Evan sets the last cardboard box on the floor against the wall with a heavy thud that echoes through the room.
“I can see that. Two black dragonesses related to your mate across the hall is an added bonus.” I carefully take my folded clothes out, the fabric still carrying the scent of my old place—leather and pine.
As I put them in the drawer, my hands move automatically while my senses stay alert.
My mind wanders now that we’re back on campus.
Someone got past campus security to leave that head.
Someone who can either phase like Evan or move with supernatural stealth.
“Corvis is no slacker when it comes to firepower.” Evan mentions as he takes the clothes on hangers and puts them in the closet. The metal hangers clink together with a sound that sets my teeth on edge.
“Look at it this way. Who’s going to fight harder?
A pair of sisters or a brother-in-law?” I arch a brow, looking at him while folding a black shirt.
But even as we joke, my mind races through possibilities.
Another potential mate? Someone obsessed with Raven?
The thought makes my unicorn snarl with territorial rage.
“If Corvis wants to survive Raven’s wrath, he better fight like a man possessed.” Evan says, and we both start laughing, but the sound feels forced in the suddenly oppressive air.
“Am I breaking up boys club?” Raven’s voice echoes in my room, but there’s something off about her tone—too bright, too controlled.
I turn, smiling because I’m always happy to see her, but the expression freezes when I take in her appearance.
She’s wearing the egg carrier under her breasts, and her hand rests on it protectively.
Her sapphire eyes dart around the room like she’s cataloging escape routes or searching for threats.
“Not at all.” I clear off the corner of my bed for her to have a soft place to sit, my movements careful and deliberate. The mattress creaks under the shift in weight. “What’s wrong?” I ask quietly, though I already suspect the answer.
Raven walks in with measured steps and takes a seat on the corner of my bed. “Thanks for the beautiful brush and comb set in my room.” She smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. There’s something brittle about her expression, like glass about to shatter.
My blood runs cold. Another gift. Another violation of her sanctuary.
“I didn’t get that for you. Maybe it was Corvis?
” I tilt my head, studying her face, but I already know the answer.
A chill rolls up my spine like ice water.
Someone’s obsession is escalating. First the drow head—a warning or a trophy—and now personal grooming items. Intimate gifts.
The temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees.
“Corvis said it wasn’t him...” Raven freezes mid-sentence and looks around quickly, her head moving with predatory sharpness.
Her eyes shift from sapphire to something darker, more dangerous, and I feel her dragoness surge near the surface like a barely contained storm.
The air grows thick and electric. She knows what I know—we have a problem.
Someone is watching her. Someone who can get past our defenses like they don’t exist. Someone who leaves gifts that speak of obsession, of claiming.
My unicorn paces restlessly beneath my skin, pink eyes probably flashing with barely contained violence.
If this is another potential mate trying to court her through invasion, they’ve made a fatal mistake.
“Get Daddy Balor and Ziggy, then take my sisters to my mom’s.” Her eyes lock with Evans, and I know with bone-deep certainty that something bad is about to happen. The way she says it—quick, decisive, protective—tells me she’s thinking the same thing I am. This isn’t random. This is targeted.
Evan phases out of here faster than I’ve ever seen him move before, leaving behind the sharp scent of ozone and displacement magic. He understands the urgency without explanation.
Raven leaves my room with purposeful strides and closes the door to her room. She turns to face her sisters, her voice steady but carrying an undertone that makes my unicorn pace restlessly. “Evan is going to take you to Mom’s for a little bit.”
Lily opens her mouth to protest, and Raven raises her hand, stopping her with a gesture that brooks no argument. “Trust me. Please just do what I’m asking. I will tell you later what’s happening.”
Corvis appears at the end of the hallway on the tail end of the conversation, his silver hair disheveled and his eyes wide.
We all stare at Raven, the silence stretching taut between us like a wire about to snap.
His nostrils flare slightly—he can smell the tension, the fear, the rage building in the air.
The second Balor and Ziggy arrive—their presence filling the space with the heavy weight of ancient power. Raven drags them into her room and shuts the door with a decisive click. The sound echoes like a gunshot.
Evan takes the girls and vanishes again in a rush of displaced air, leaving Corvis and me standing in the suddenly empty hallway. The quiet feels wrong, oppressive, like the moment before lightning strikes.
“Another gift?” Corvis asks quietly, his pale eyes meeting mine.
I nod grimly. “Brush and comb set. High-end, from what I could tell.” My hands clench into fists. “Someone is either phasing in or they’re skilled enough to get past the school’s security.”
“Stalker or suitor?” His voice carries the same deadly calm I feel settling over me.
“Does it matter?” I respond, my pink eyes probably flashing darker. “Either way, they’re marking territory that isn’t theirs to claim.”
Something has set our mate on edge, and every instinct I possess is screaming that we’re being hunted.
The drow head was a message—but what kind?
A warning? Proof of capability? And now grooming tools, intimate and personal.
Someone is escalating their game, and I need to know what is happening behind that closed door.
My unicorn snarls beneath my skin, territorial, and protective. If this is another potential mate thinking they can intimidate their way into Raven’s affections, they’re about to learn why black unicorns are considered the most volatile shifters alive.
Whatever gift was left in Raven’s room, it wasn’t from someone who respects boundaries. And that makes them a threat that needs to be eliminated.