Corvus glances over at Thauglor, who nods once and makes a small gesture with his hand—permission given. Corvus closes the distance between us, his boots barely making a sound against the stone. “I grant you permission to protect and provide for Raven. That is, until she either decides to keep you or sever the bond.” He had to add that last part, protecting himself and the nest.
Smart drake. I respect him more for it.
I move back to the chair across from Raven’s bed with relief singing through my veins, settling in to return to my silent vigil. Waiting for her to awaken so I can finally, after centuries of searching, tell my mate that I’ve found her at last.
The room settles into comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of her breathing and the occasional shift of fabric.
I dreamof the lake of fire—the same lake I led Raven to seven days ago. The vision is vivid and recurring, playing behind my closed eyelids like a prophecy demanding fulfillment. Every night since I met her, I’ve dreamed of the day she would choose me too, would accept the bond that burns between us like an eternal flame. It’s been seven long days and nights since she drank the tonics, and the wait is killing me slowly, eating away at my patience and sanity in equal measure.
My nostrils fill with the intoxicating scent of sea salt and jasmine—Raven’s unique fragrance that’s become as familiar as my own heartbeat. It makes sense since she sleeps less than five feet from me, close enough to touch but still impossibly distant. The scent has permeated everything in this room, claiming the space as thoroughly as any territorial marker.
Soft, cool fingertips touch my face with feather-light pressure, tracing my jawline with gentle exploration. The contact sends electricity racing along my nerves, making my phoenix stir restlessly beneath my skin. I feel the warmth of her body drawing closer, her presence like standing near a banked fire—a subtle heat that promises to become an inferno.
I dare not open my eyes and spook her, keeping my breathing deep and even despite my racing heart. My mate is willingly touching me of her own volition, and I refuse to do anything that might make her stop. Every point of contact feels precious,sacred, worth more than all my centuries of accumulated knowledge.
“He’s been here the whole time,” I hear Corvus whisper to her, his voice carrying a mixture of respect and something that might be envy. The sound comes from somewhere near the foot of the bed.
“He wasn’t scared of me.” Her voice fills with wonder and disbelief as she continues to trace the edge of my jaw with those impossibly gentle fingers. “He’s so beautiful.” She sighs softly, the sound warm against my cheek, and my chest tightens with emotion I can barely contain. “I can see the avian features in his human form.”
Her observation makes me hyperaware of the subtle differences in my bone structure—the way my cheekbones are slightly sharper than human, how my jawline has that predatory edge common to birds of prey. Her fingers touch my cheekbone with curious reverence, then drift down to trace my jaw again, mapping my features as if she’s memorizing them.
“You should have seen him shift and take off after you when you vanished. It was magnificent.” Keir’s voice carries genuine admiration from somewhere to my left. “I’m kind of jealous of his shift, to be honest.” There’s a wistful tone that speaks to a blink hound’s appreciation for other forms of movement through space.
The next thing I know, I feel someone grip my arm—Keir’s hand, strong and sure—and the world tilts sideways in a disorienting rush. Reality folds and unfolds around us in that distinctive sensation of a blink hound’s teleportation. The room we materialize in feels different—terrifying in its intensity, like I am in the belly of the beast itself. The air is thick with power andpossession, every surface marked ashersin ways I can sense but not fully understand. The air is thick with power and possession, every surface marked ashersin ways I can sense but not fully understand.
“Leave us. Take Solaris with you.” Raven’s voice carries soft but absolute authority, the command of someone who rules this space completely. “I’ll wait for Finlay to wake up.”
I hear shuffling footsteps retreating, the soft rustle of the egg being carefully lifted, a door closing with a quiet click that echoes with finality. Then silence, broken only by our breathing.
“Sleep, Fin.” The nickname sounds like an endearment on her lips, intimate and claiming. She kisses the sensitive spot behind my ear, and I have to fight not to react to the warm press of her lips against my skin. “I’ll watch over you now.”
I feel her wing extend over me—the massive black membrane creating a cocoon of safety and warmth that blocks out the world. The weight is surprisingly comforting, protective rather than confining. Slowly, her arm wraps around me, and she presses herself against my back. Her body is warm and solid, fitting against me as if we were designed to connect this way.
Her nose rests against the back of my neck, her breath warm and steady against my skin. Then the deepest, most comforting purr I’ve ever heard escapes her—a sound that vibrates through her chest into my back, resonating through my bones and settling something ancient in my soul. I feel it more than hear it, the rumbling traveling through every point where our bodies touch.
My phoenix, who has been restless and demanding, and desperate for nine hundred years of lonely deaths and rebirths,suddenly settles.Falls silent.Goes still for the first time in nearly a millennium of searching.
The relief is so profound it brings tears to my closed eyes. All the noise in my head—the constant pressure to find her, to keep searching, to never give up—simply... stops. Replaced by peace so complete it feels like a physical presence.
Sleep claims me shortly after, pulling me down into darkness that for once doesn’t feel empty. For the first time in centuries beyond counting, I rest without dreaming of fire and loneliness.
I rest, held by my mate, finally home.
