Chapter 35 Raven #2
I look at Mom and Dad, memorizing their faces in case this is the last time I see them.
The way Dad’s sapphire eyes catch the light.
The silver streaks in Mom’s emerald hair.
The scars on their hands from battles fought before I was born.
My eyes fall on my sister’s scarf in my hands.
The happy pastel pink color is so bright and vibrant, just like she is.
Was? No. Is. She’s alive. She has to be. I won’t accept any other possibility.
“Little one...” I hear my father’s tone soften as he extends a hand toward me.
“You don’t have to do this. Your mother and I can handle it.
” He caresses my cheek with a gentleness that belies his massive scarred hand, each mark a story of survival.
He stares deep into my eyes like he’s trying to see into my soul, trying to find the little girl who used to hide behind his wings.
“What kind of queen would that make me?” I hold my head up high and square my shoulders, feeling the weight of my future title settle across them like armor—cold, heavy, unyielding.
“One of my people — my sibling — was stolen right from under our noses.” I feel the bone plates in my face shift slightly as my dragon rises closer to the surface, pushing against my skin from the inside.
“I will lay waste to our enemies and watch their forces burn before I let my sister be harmed.” A deep growl escapes my lips, vibrating through my chest and into the ground beneath my feet.
A haze of acid vapor escapes my mouth as my anger grows, the acrid smell burning my own nostrils and making Corvis take another step back.
“Why aren’t you bringing Abraxis and Lily?
” Ziggy asks, his feline eyes studying me carefully, looking for cracks in my resolve.
“They’re black dragons.” He points out, and I turn to stare at Abraxis.
It’s no secret his wing has never been right since getting shot down before my birth.
I can see the slight droop even now, the way the membrane doesn’t quite fold properly, the way he favors his left side when he thinks no one is watching.
“Lily isn’t a fighter, and the general needs to be here to command the troops if something goes wrong.
” I stare into Abraxis’s eyes, daring him to push me, to argue, to make me say the rest out loud.
I know his weakness, and if the enemy was tactical enough to steal Isolde from the heart of our territory—from a party surrounded by dozens of family and friends—then they probably know about him too.
They’ve been watching us. Learning us. They’d target that damaged wing, bring him down, use him as leverage.
And I can’t risk that. I can’t risk anyone else.
“When do we leave?” Balor asks as Ziggy returns with Orpheus.
My brother looks sleep-rumpled but alert, his basilisk nature already rising to the surface—I can see the faint shimmer of scales along his neck.
Ziggy pulls him aside to catch him up on what’s about to happen, speaking in low, urgent tones.
I look up at the position of the sun. It’s almost at its apex, the light growing stronger and warmer against my skin in contrast to the icy dread in my stomach.
“We have about another twenty minutes before we’ll have the advantage.
” Twenty minutes until the drow are weakest, trapped by sunlight in their cave, their eyes burning, their movements slowed.
Twenty minutes to prepare to fly into the unknown with no guarantee we’ll all make it back.
“Black dragons stand out in the daytime.” Klauth points out, his ancient voice carrying concern and something else—respect, maybe, that I’m willing to take this risk.
“We do, and that’s half the point.” I meet his gaze steadily, refusing to show the fear churning in my gut.
“The other is our breath weapon will penetrate the deepest parts of the caverns. The gas is heavier than air—it will move along the floor, seeking the lowest point, filling every crack and crevice.” I look over at Klauth, then back to Mom and Dad.
“Either Mom or I will ignite it once Balor and my siblings are clear.” I lower my eyes, staring at the rocks under my boots.
The reality of what I’m proposing settles over me like a shroud.
I’m planning to turn that cave into a crematorium.
I’m planning to kill everything inside. And part of me—the dark, primal part that my dragon controls—is looking forward to it.
Before I can process it further, before I can second-guess myself, Corvis is crushing me against his chest. His heart pounds against mine, both racing so fast they seem to merge into one.
“Be careful. Come back to me.” He whispers next to my ear, his breath warm against my skin, his voice breaking on the last syllable.
“Always.” I kiss the tip of his nose, drawing in a deep breath that carries his scent—fresh baked bread and cedar and home and safety.
Everything I might not get to smell again.
“Twenty minutes and we leave...” Twenty minutes longer I get to hold my mate before I go on my first mission into enemy lands.
Into the unknown darkness beyond the Velician Mountains, where things Mom warned me about in childhood nightmares wait in the shadows with teeth and claws and hunger.
Twenty minutes before I have to let go and become something harder, something colder, something capable of what needs to be done.
Twenty minutes before I discover what lurks on the other side of those forbidden peaks, and whether I’m strong enough to face it. Whether I’m strong enough to kill for my sister. Whether I’m strong enough to die for her if it comes to that.
My hands tighten on Corvis’s shirt, bunching the fabric in my fists, and I allow myself this moment of weakness, this moment of fear, before I have to become the dragon heir who never falters.
Before I have to become the Queen who makes the hard choices.
Before I have to become the monster that saves her family.
Because on the other side of those mountains, in the darkness I’ve never dared explore, in a cave filled with enemies who think they can take from us without consequence, my sister is waiting.
Isolde is waiting for someone to come for her.
And I will burn the world to ash before I leave her there.
I will cross into forbidden lands, face ancient horrors, and paint the sky black with smoke before I let them keep her.
The wind picks up, carrying the scent of snow from the mountain peaks and something else—something that smells like decay and old blood. Like the mountain itself is warning us away. But warnings don’t matter anymore. Nothing matters except bringing Isolde home.
I close my eyes and count down the seconds, feeling my dragon coil tighter inside me with each heartbeat, ready to be unleashed. Ready to show the world what happens when you take something precious from a black dragon.
Ready to discover if I’m truly my parents’ daughter, or if I’ll break under the weight of what’s coming.
Twenty minutes.
Then we fly into hell itself.