Chapter 39 Hemlocke
Hemlocke
My unicorn bellows in my head hearing Raven cry out from the pain—a sound that almost tears from my chest like something primal and wounded.
My grip on her tightens as I try to absorb her pain, to pull it from her body into mine where I can handle it.
When Bella comes and knocks her out with that spine, I damn near lose it.
Raven goes limp in my arms, her weight settling against me completely, and I look over her at her father.
He looks just as gutted as I feel—his sapphire eyes wide and haunted.
“Let’s take her to the surgical suite since she’s sleeping.” The doctor says calmly, his clinical tone grating against my raw nerves. He and his assistants file out of the room, their footsteps echoing on the wet stone as they head back to the clinic.
“Can you help me adjust her so I can carry her?” I look to Thauglor, and he nods before helping me maneuver his sleeping daughter in my arms. Her skin is still warm from the mineral water, her breathing shallow but steady.
Corvis and Keir move closer and grip my elbows to keep me steady as I climb the slick stone steps to get out.
Water streams from all of us, creating puddles with each step.
We follow behind Mina, heading to the surgical suite.
The hallway smells of antiseptic and dragon fire—a combination that’s oddly comforting.
It’s amazing that they have almost a full hospital down here in the lower nest. The doctor motions to a specialized table that has a face hole in it, padded with soft material.
Corvis, Keir, Thauglor, and I maneuver Raven onto her stomach on the table, being careful not to jostle her injured wing.
Separate tables are rolled over to support both her wings, the good one, and the broken one.
I glance briefly over at Abraxis, and he’s seeing the full scope of what’s being done for Raven—the specialized equipment, the careful positioning, the gentle handling.
I watch recognition dawn on his face, realizing this exact procedure must have been done for him when his wing was damaged.
His expression shifts from curiosity to something darker, more haunted.
“What can I do to help?” I look from Mina to the doctors, desperate to be useful rather than standing here feeling helpless.
“Corvis, go sit by Raven’s head so she can smell your drake.
It’ll keep her calm even unconscious.” Mina’s voice is firm but kind.
“Keir, you and Ziggy will be our runners to get things we need.” She looks at me and smiles.
“I’m going to teach you how to do the wound care for her wing.
Just like the doctors taught me to take care of Abraxis.
” She gives me a knowing smile that carries the weight of experience, and I nod.
“Can my healing ability help her? Like it did with Titan.” I don’t care if I exhaust myself to heal her. I’d give every ounce of energy I have.
“Perhaps, but let’s see what we’re dealing with first.” Mina smiles and hands me surgical scissors—cold and heavy in my palm.
“Carefully cut away the bandages. Put two fingers under the section of gauze you intend to cut.” I do as Mina tells me, my hands shaking slightly, and work a little section at a time, making sure not to cut too deep.
The wet bandages resist the scissors, making soft tearing sounds.
What feels like forever later, we can finally see her wing with the splints taped in place on either side of her wing bone. The leather membrane looks pale where it’s been wrapped, and I can see the swelling along the break site—angry and purple.
The doctor steps closer and rolls a machine over her wing at the point of the break.
The equipment hums softly as it works. Using rolled towels, he supports the bone on either side, then snaps what sounds like several pictures—quick clicking sounds that make me flinch.
“Looks good.” His assistant says from the other side of the room before another assistant moves the machine away with a quiet squeak of wheels.
We watch as he puts the images up on this big light board.
The images glow with an eerie quality, showing bone structure in stark white against a dark background.
“The bone is mending quite well. If I didn’t treat her myself, I would say this break was almost a month old.
” I move closer to the board with Mina to stare at the image, trying to understand what I’m seeing.
The doctor points at the break with a pen.
“She shouldn’t have that much bone growth already. ”
I glance back at Thauglor, and he’s talking to Klauth and Balor in their own little huddle, their voices low and urgent. Something about their body language sets my unicorn on edge.
“Why is it odd? Don’t dragons heal incredibly fast?” I ask, trying to understand why everyone looks so concerned about good news.
“I’d expect this healing from Balor, not Raven. Basilisks regenerate bone and tissue faster than any other living species.” The doctor’s tone carries surprise mixed with something else—suspicion, maybe. I furrow my brow and look at a very pale Mina and a concerned-looking Thauglor.
I walk over to Thauglor when he moves away from Klauth and arch a brow at him, keeping my voice low. “My gut is telling me something is happening that not everyone knows about.”
“Have Corvis fill you and Keir in.” He shuts his mouth promptly after that, his jaw tight with tension.
I return to the table with more questions than answers, my mind racing through possibilities. No matter what is going on in the background—whatever secret they’re keeping—I will learn whatever the doctors and Mina will teach me to take care of my mate.
Because she’s mine to protect, and I won’t fail her.
What feels like forever later, we’re finally done treating Raven’s wing.
My shoulders ache from standing so long, and the smell of antiseptic clings to my clothes.
Corvis scoops her up with Thauglor’s help, cradling her against his chest like she’s made of glass.
Then I hear Abraxis; his voice is quieter than I’ve ever heard it.
“Was it like that with me?” He looks from Klauth to Mina, then back over to the table, staring at it like he’s seeing it for the first time.
“Worse. You had a terrible prognosis.” Klauth says as he pulls Mina to him before leading her out of the room. The weight in his voice tells me just how close Abraxis came to never flying again.
“I didn’t know.” Abraxis says as he slowly turns his gaze to me, and for once there’s no arrogance in his expression—just raw vulnerability.
“Maybe try to be less of a dick to your loved ones. Especially Raven, especially now.” I snort smoke in his direction—a thin plume that tastes like ash in my mouth—before turning to leave.
What’s the rest of this school year going to look like for Raven?
I know she can still attend most of her classes, but it’s the Shadowcarve ones that worry me.
The ones that require shifting, flying, combat.
I wander into our apartment and find Thauglor on the couch with his head in his hands. His wings are drooped so low the tips drag on the floor, and I can feel the anguish radiating off of him like heat from a fire. The air feels heavy with his despair.
Before I get the chance to say anything, Mina drags Keir and Corvis out of Raven’s room, her expression intense.
“We need to talk.” The way she says it makes Thauglor’s head snap up.
I watch Thauglor lock the apartment door—the deadbolt clicking with finality—and motion to the back of the living space, away from Raven’s room.
“We need to talk to you about the clutch Raven was born in.” Thauglor says and looks at Mina, his sapphire eyes serious.
“Something unexpected happened when I laid the clutch she was born in. Thorne is a blend of all three fathers.” Mina inhales deeply, her chest rising and falling, and looks at Thauglor.
“Until the gathering, we thought she was the only one. Apparently, Raven is also a chimera, like Thorne is.” Thauglor says and looks at Corvis, waiting for confirmation.
“I witnessed Raven in shifted form use the basilisk gift of stone gaze. As far as we know, she can’t do it in her human form.” Corvis says, and Keir stares at me, then looks at Corvis, his storm-gray eyes wide.
“That explains how she’s healing so fast.” Keir says, his voice full of wonder and something like awe.
“Yeah, the question is what else can she do? Can Thorne heal like she does? Will she give birth to other chimeras like her when she has her first clutch?” Mina says, and my breath catches in my lungs.
The implications hit me like a physical blow.
I glance over at the cursed egg in the carrier sitting on the couch, and suddenly everything feels more complicated.
“Two dragons, a black unicorn, and a blink hound.” I say, then look at Mina, watching her process what that genetic combination might create.
Her mouth works several times before she just nods.
“Add to that her unique bloodline—black, red, green, iron, and titanium dragons plus basilisk.” The way Mina says it makes Thauglor pause.
He does a slow horror movie turn to look at the door to his daughter’s room, and I can see the fear mixing with pride on his face.
“She could potentially be the strongest dragoness in existence.” He says, then looks at Corvis with an intensity that makes the air feel charged.
“We know she’s immune to acid.” Corvis says, glancing between her parents.
“Being able to use stone gaze means she’s immune to that too.” I add in my mind racing through the possibilities.
“Fire can’t hurt her.” Keir says and shrugs like this is common knowledge.
“What do you mean fire can’t hurt her?” I turn to face Keir fully, my unicorn suddenly very interested.
“She was cooking one night, and the pan set on fire. She shifted her hand and used her talons to grab the meat out of the pan. No screaming, no burns I could see.” Keir admits, describing watching Raven touch fire and emerge unscathed.
“I don’t know what’s more concerning—that you were able to watch her for this long and not be seen, or the fact she pulled her dinner out of literal fire.
” I sit back on the arm of the chair, watching Raven’s parents parse the information they’ve been given.
Their expressions shift between shock, concern, and calculation.
Keir shrugs his shoulders as he looks between Corvis and me.
We watch her parents leave; the door closing softly behind them, and we look at each other.
The silence stretches for a moment. There are three of us now, so sleeping arrangements need to be adjusted.
“Callan gave us a date night planner to use as our nest grows.” I mention as I reach behind the couch to pull it out—a leather-bound book smells like new paper.
“If everyone can agree, we can cycle our turns based on order of bonding. Well, including impending bonding.” Keir nods, and we look to Corvis.
“That sounds fair. So, like a one, two, three count, then repeat?” Corvis arches a brow after he says it, his silver eyes moving between us.
“I think that works. I mean until Raven claims another mate and the last one hatches.” Shrugging my shoulders, I look at Keir, watching for his reaction.
“How many mates will she have?” He looks between Corvis and me, his expression curious rather than jealous.
“From what I was told, five in total.” Corvis says and won’t meet either of our gazes, suddenly very interested in the floor.
“How do you know?” I step closer, and so does Keir, our curiosity piqued.
“It can’t leave the three of us.” Corvis whispers and looks around quickly before talking again, lowering his voice even further. “Mina can see the future. She just knows things, and she’s never wrong.” He speaks of our mother-in-law and sovereign queen like a goddess, his tone reverent.
“Well, when that happens, we’ll use the days of the week for assigned days, and then the last two days as family days, I guess.” I’m trying to be practical with the information given. After all, if she can see the future, why not just trust the process?
“So who’s with Raven tonight?” Keir asks as he looks toward her door, his body already orienting in that direction.
“You stayed with her last night, so it’s Corvis tonight, then me, then back to you again.” I shrug my shoulders, just trying to be logical, practical, and most of all fair.
“Sounds good. Good night, gentlemen. See you in the morning.” Corvis shakes our hands—his grip firm and warm—then heads into Raven’s room, leaving the door open behind him.
From what Mina told me, keeping her bonded drake close while she heals is important. Thankfully for the rest of us, he’s a good man and fair to everyone having equal time with Raven.
“See you in the morning, Keir.” I shake hands with him, and he looks at the couch with an expression I recognize—uncertainty mixed with wariness.
“I think I’m gonna shift and sleep out here.” His eyes dart around the apartment, cataloging exits and corners. “It’s a new place, and my shift is uneasy.” He forces a smile, and I know it cost him to admit that vulnerability.
“Not used to being away from your pack?” I ask as I stand in the doorway to my room, one hand resting on the frame.
“Is it that obvious?” He shrugs his shoulders a little, the gesture almost defensive.
“I’m not used to being away from my herd. But it’s worth it in the end. Once you’re bonded to her and can feel her in your heart—” I rest my hand over my heart where I swear I can feel her presence, warm and constant, “—it gets easier.”
Keir looks back toward the open door to Raven’s room before looking back at me.
“Thanks, Hemlocke. Knowing that helps some. See you in the morning.” Keir shifts on the spot—his form blurring and expanding into his massive blink hound—then prowls the room, sniffing everything.
His nails click softly on the hardwood floor.
I watch him for several minutes, seeing the way he marks the space as safe in his mind, before stepping into my room. For once, I don’t bother closing the door. I don’t want Keir to feel alone in this new place, away from his pack, adjusting to a nest that’s still forming.
We’re all finding our way.