Chapter 14
Raven
Four out offive mates are with me at Malivore, their presence a constant comfort that soothes my dragoness. Mate number five is still trapped in his egg, pulsing warmly against my chest in the carrier I wear everywhere. Shaking my head at the incompleteness of it all, I walk from art class this morning to Royal Protocol class with Finlay, my boots clicking against the stone pathways.
Walking across campus is always an adventure, especially when Isolde joins me for my mate’s class. The morning air is crisp and cool, carrying the scent of pine and the distant ocean. It’s so hard to pretend I’m just another student in his class—to sit there and watch him teach without letting my eyes linger too long, without my dragoness purring at his proximity. Several times I’ve had to call for Corvus to come be my partner for the dancing portion of the class. Fin doesn’t want anyone to claim I’m getting special treatment, though the irony isn’t lost on me.
But I don’t like how the other females watch him—their eyes tracking his movements with hunger that makes my scales prickle with possessive rage beneath my skin.
I walk to the far side of the classroom and see it’s set up for dancing yet again. Chairs have been pushed to the walls, and the center floor has been polished until it gleams. Up on the board, the Winter Formal schedule is staring me right in the face in Finlay’s precise handwriting. This year I am expected to stand on the platform with Mom and Klauth, watching everyone enter in formal procession—a position of honor and scrutiny.
The processional is going to be led by Abraxis and Lily, as is traditional for the General and his heir. Corvus will ride with Thorne as her escort since her mate is a displacer beast. Allister is being forced to ride this year with Isolde since she’s seventeen now—old enough to take part but still so young. Mom and Dad have her here taking basic education classes to prepare her for eventual leadership responsibilities.
Today she’s joining me in Fin’s class since her classes were canceled because of winter formal preparations happening across campus.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” Isolde asks as she hangs on my arm, her nightmare nature making shadows gather at her feet despite the bright classroom lights.
Leaning down, I whisper into her ear, breathing in her familiar scent of storm winds and darkness. “What’s my mate going to do? Kick his sister-in-law out?” I smile at my baby sister and kiss her temple tenderly.
“True.” She smiles and looks out across the other students scattered throughout the room. Three gold dragonesses have been giving us death glares since they arrived—their amber eyes tracking us with obvious hostility. Isolde tugs on my arm with concern. “Do they hate me or you?”
That grabs my attention immediately. I reach down into my bag and pull out my diadem, the silver metal cool against my fingers, and place it deliberately on my head. The weight settles familiar and heavy. That emotionless mask I wear when I become the heir apparent slips down over my face like a shield. With a slight, calculated flair of my wings and a tilt of my head—exactly like I’ve seen Dad and Klauth do countless times—the females immediately shut up and look away.
I wouldn’t be surprised if they grow bolder as the class continues, though. Gold dragons rarely know when to quit.
Finlay enters through the main doors with confident strides, and my heart does that stupid flutter it always does when I see him. He moves to the double doors and shuts them with deliberate finality. The sound of the locking mechanism engaging echoes through the hall like a gunshot. “Rulers respect each other’s time,” he says, holding his head at that particular angle that basically saystry me. “Today we are working on our formal greetings and submission bows.”
His honey-colored eyes drift over the class with professional assessment, and he offers me a brief wink that no one else catches before continuing with his lecture.
“A male will formally bow to the father of the intended female first, kiss the hand of the mother second, then with the parents’ permission, he lowers himself to the female and offers to kiss her hand.” He motions for me to approach with elegant fingers, and I stand, smoothing down my skirt as I walk to the front.
He demonstrates by lowering himself to one knee before me with perfect form, and I offer him my hand. His lips are warm as they brush across my knuckles—the kiss brief but sending heatracing up my arm. He rises to stand before me, close enough that I can smell his campfire and cinnamon scent.
“That’s how it’s done,” Fin says with professional detachment, bowing to me again before I walk back to my seat with my sister. My skin still tingles where he touched me.
“Professor Boaz, why is an underage nightmare in here? I was under the impression this is a dragons-only course.” Inara, the gold dragoness from the Eastern Isles, speaks up with poorly concealed contempt dripping from every word.
I sit up straighter, my wings rustling against my chair, as Finlay moves to address her. “She is the progeny of Queen Willamina Ragnar. Sister to the heir apparent, Princess Raven Mrithun.” He motions to us with a practiced flourish that somehow makes the gesture both respectful and dismissive of her challenge.
Inara cocks her head, her amber eyes narrowing as she studies him intently. “Your scent has changed,” she observes with predatory focus, then looks away when he doesn’t respond.
I bite my bottom lip hard enough to taste copper and shoot my father a quick message under the table, my fingers flying across my phone screen. I let him know the gold dragonesses are starting trouble in Finlay’s class. After all, it wouldn’t look good if the heir apparent started a physical fight in royal protocol class—no matter how satisfying it would be to put Inara in her place.
Within minutes, Klauth enters through the teacher’s private entrance, his presence immediately filling the room with an ancient power that makes every dragon instinctively straighten. He takes a seat behind Finlay’s desk with casual authority. “Ignore that I’m here. I’m only observing.” He waves his handin that dismissive way he usually employs when he’s actually paying very close attention.
“Does anyone wish to demonstrate how someone shows respect to someone of a higher rank?” Finlay asks, and I’m already raising my hand before he finishes the question, a plan forming in my mind.
“I will,” I say, standing and walking back down the stairs with measured steps. My heels click deliberately against the floor.
“There’s only one person who ranks higher than you in here,” Finlay observes, looking over his shoulder to where Klauth sits watching with crimson-flecked amber eyes.
“That is true. There is also the respect and submission mates show each other,” I say clearly, glaring at the gold dragonesses and shifting my eyes to my dragon’s slitted sapphire gaze. Let them see what they’re really dealing with.
I look over at Klauth, and he rises to join us at the front, understanding what I’m doing. “My daughter by ascension is the second-highest-ranking female on this continent,” his voice booms through the room as he smiles affectionately down at me. “The only female above her is her mother. For Raven to lower herself to someone, it’s either out of love or respect.”
Klauth says it deliberately, and I watch with satisfaction as Finlay turns three progressive shades of pink, his composure finally cracking.
I close the distance until I’m within arm’s reach of Finlay and execute the formal mate submission. I stretch my left leg forward and bend my right knee, lowering myself in a deep curtsy. My head is bowed, exposing the vulnerable column of my neck, and my wings spread wide to their full impressiveextension. By baring the back of my neck and making my wings vulnerable, I am trusting him completely with my safety and my life.
