Chapter 46 Hemlocke
Hemlocke
I feel an urgent pull from Raven through our bond—sharp, demanding, wrong—and then nothing.
The connection goes dark as if someone cut a wire.
I race toward Shadowcarve, my boots pounding against the stone pathway, and shove the doors open.
The ancient wood slams against the walls with a boom that echoes through the entrance hall.
I hear the clanging of metal hitting metal—steel screaming against steel in rapid succession. Hisses and growls from whoever is fighting fill the air, primal and terrifying. I round the corner, and my heart damn near stops.
Raven is facing off against her mother, going blow for blow with her. Their movements are too fast, too violent, blades blurring through the air. Sweat flies from their skin with each strike.
What concerns me is Raven’s eyes. Her dragon’s slitted gaze is what’s peering out—dark blue with vertical pupils that reflect no light—and it looks pissed.
Feral. I don’t sense any humanity behind my mate’s eyes, and I think her mother is in deep shit when Raven loses the battle with the beast. The air around Raven shimmers with heat, like she’s barely containing her rage.
“You need to stop them.” I move closer to Thauglor, my voice tight with concern.
“Why?” He glances down at me, and I see the same concern flickering in his sapphire eyes.
“I don’t sense Raven. She’s shut down the bond, and she feels dangerous. More so than usual.” I say as Keir and Corvis step closer, their expressions mirroring my worry. The three of us stand united, feeling the absence of our mate like a missing limb.
“Do either of you sense your mate?” Thauglor looks at them, and they shake their heads no, their faces pale. “My mate fucked up. She threatened you guys to get Raven to not treat her like her mother.”
A roar rips free from Raven—the sound rattling my bones and making several students stumble backward.
I see her lunge forward. She’s ripped off her mask, the leather hanging from her neck, and she’s snapping her teeth like she’s about to bite.
The dragon is in the driver’s seat, and her mother is backpedaling, barely blocking the strikes. “Shit. I’m going in.”
“No, it’s okay!” Mina grunts out as she presses back against Raven’s advances, her arms shaking from the force of each blow. Famous last words... Two more strikes—lightning fast, brutal—and one of Mina’s swords goes flying. It embeds into the wall with a thunk.
“I don’t think that’s going according to plan.” I look at Mina’s mates, then my bond brothers, seeing my fear reflected in their faces.
“It’s not.” Abraxis draws his sword, the steel singing as it leaves the sheath, and I watch Thauglor shake his head.
“He hasn’t learned. Raven beat me... Let that sink in.
” Thauglor says, and no sooner are the words out of his mouth than Abraxis hits the ground.
Raven punched him so hard she knocked him out cold.
His body crumples like a puppet with cut strings.
She’s stalking her mother now, her dead gaze locked on her target.
Every movement is predatory, calculated, deadly.
“I have an idea.” I look at Corvis and take the dagger from the sheath on his rib, feeling the familiar weight of the blade.
“What are you doing?” Corvis places his hand over mine, stopping me and the blade. His silver eyes are wide with alarm.
“Raven loves the taste of my blood.” I say as I take the blade and cut my forearm.
The steel is cold against my skin. I hiss in pain as the blade cuts through my skin—sharp, burning.
Blood bubbles along the cut, then drips, the crimson drops hitting the packed earth of the ring.
I move closer and drop the blade with a clatter into the ring.
Raven’s nose twitches, her nostrils flaring.
She shoves Mina away, knocking her on her ass.
Mina hits the ground hard, rolling. A deep growl escapes Raven’s lips—possessive, protective, mine.
“Who hurt my mate?” She closes the distance between us in seconds and scoops me up like I weigh nothing.
Then she launches into the air with me, her powerful legs propelling us skyward.
Before I can get two words out, she shifts into her dragoness. My body is suddenly gripped in a taloned hand—each claw longer than my legs, silver and razor-sharp. The ground falls away swiftly the higher Raven climbs. Wind screams past my ears, and my stomach drops as we gain altitude.
Looking back toward the academy, I see Corvis’s silver and iron dragon in pursuit, his wings beating powerfully.
Soon enough, he’s on our right side, flying with us.
Keir is sitting on his back watching us with wary eyes.
They rumble back and forth—deep dragon sounds that vibrate through the air.
Eventually, Corvis gets her to bank to the right and follow him.
Ten minutes into the flight, I can finally feel Raven again through the bond—confused, ashamed, coming back to herself.
At least she’s better than I thought. I was worried we'd lost her to the beast in her chest.
The oasis is in sight—the familiar cliffs and hidden waterfall—and Corvis goes in for the landing first, his massive form touching down on the beach.
Raven circles several times, her shadow passing over the oasis like a dark cloud, then lands.
Sand sprays in all directions from the impact.
She keeps the taloned hand I’m in up off the ground, protecting me even in her dragon form.
Gently, she lowers my feet to the sand, then releases me.
Her claws open carefully, mindful not to scratch.
I step away, giving her space, watching Raven shift back.
The transformation ripples through her—scales receding, wings shrinking, body condensing.
When she’s human again, she’s shaking and vulnerable.
“You’re hurt.” She races over to me, her hands searching my body frantically, looking for the wound.
I raise my arm, showing her the cut I made in my own skin.
Dried blood, leaving trails running down to my wrist. “It was the only thing I could think of to get you to focus on me. You were close to killing your mom.” Raven winces, the words hitting her like a physical blow, and looks over at Corvis and Keir.
“I couldn’t see Mom anymore.” Her eyes lower to look at the sand as she pushes it around with her feet, like a child caught doing something wrong. “She threatened the nest, you, everything and everyone I love.” Raven’s voice is so sincere, so raw with emotion that it makes my chest ache.
Corvis closes the distance between him and Raven and pulls her into his arms. She melts against him, and I can see her shoulders shaking.
“I have classes to teach. Stay with Hemlocke and Keir for the afternoon. I’ll reschedule the doctor for you.
” He kisses her lips—soft, lingering, reassuring—before patting me and Keir on the shoulder.
Then he leaves, walking to the cliff’s edge.
Corvis leaps off and shifts mid-fall, his silver form shooting up into the sky like a missile.
I watch him leave, and I turn slowly to find Raven stepping into the water. Her clothing lies discarded on the beach—shirt, pants, undergarments in a careless pile—leaving Keir and me to watch her, speechless. The water laps at her ankles, then her calves, as she wades deeper.
My head’s clear this time, and I can really see my mate for the first time.
She has so many scales in her human form—black armor that covers her shoulders, runs down her spine, patterns her ribs and thighs.
The scales catch the sunlight, some matte like mine, others with the harder gleam of basilisk armor.
Black dragonesses are the most dangerous creatures in all creation—volatile, powerful, deadly. Yet I am mate to one.
I must have a death wish.
But as I watch her sink into the water, the tension finally leaving her body, I realize I wouldn’t change it for anything.
She’s mine, and I’m hers.
And I’ll face whatever danger that brings.
“Can you get us food? She’s going to be hungry.” I whisper to Keir. Our eyes haven’t left Raven since she waded into the water, her black wings dragging slightly in the shallows before she submerged deeper.
“Yeah, steaks? Or wings and ribs?” He has his phone out, the screen glowing in his hand, ready to text someone.
“Both would be best. Usually Corvis handles Raven post-aggression.” I arch a brow at Keir, wondering if he understands what we’re dealing with.
“You can armor yourself. Good call.” Keir smirks and shakes his head, his storm-gray eyes knowing.
“Wait until her heat. Your stamina is going to be vital to our survival.” Keir gives my shoulder a squeeze—firm, reassuring—then vanishes.
One second he’s there, the next just empty space where he stood.
I glance away for two seconds, and Raven is missing.
Not really missing—I can feel her still here through the bond, a warm presence beneath the water.
Slowly, I strip out of my clothing, feeling the warm air against my skin.
I watch the water, looking for any sign of movement.
Black dragons were originally a swamp-dwelling or cave-dwelling species.
It makes sense that when she’s stressed; she seeks deep water or a dark cavern.
The interior of her lair has both—the pool, and the shadowed caves beyond.
My feet sink into the sand as I approach the water’s edge, the grains warm and fine between my toes.
Raven can be anywhere in this body of water.
Most of it is shaded by the overhanging cliffs, and with her black wings, it’s easy for her to hide in the darkness.
I step in slowly, feeling the lukewarm water creep higher up my legs with every step.
It’s not cold like I expected—heated by the sun and the volcanic rock beneath.