Chapter 2
Raven
The summer slipsthrough my fingers faster than I want it to. During these precious months, I’ve made Blackhaven mine—claimed it, marked it, transformed it from an ancestral fortress into something that pulses with my power. The ancient stones seem to breathe with my presence now, responding to the dragonic energy that thrums through my veins.
I stand in the back of the existing egg chamber, staring at the rough stone wall before me. My dragoness stirs restlessly beneath my skin, scales rippling just below the surface. She senses the water beyond this barrier—feels it calling to us with a pull I can’t ignore. Every instinct screams that this is where I need to go to ground when it’s time. When my eggs come. When I need to hide from whatever threats lurk in the shadows, watching and wait.
The thought sends a chill down my spine despite the warmth of the chamber. Someone is always watching. Always hunting. The heir to the Marzana Empire makes too tempting a target.
I pull out my phone, the screen’s glow harsh against the dim chamber. My thumb hovers over Daddy Ziggy’s number forseveral heartbeats before I force myself to dial. The ringtone echoes in the enclosed space, each trill making my wings twitch with nervous energy.
“Hey pumpkin, is everything alright?” Ziggy’s happiness radiates through the phone, warm and genuine. He’s like a golden retriever puppy in displacer beast form—spreading light and love wherever he goes. The sound of his voice eases some of the tension coiled in my shoulders.
“Yeah.” I swallow, listening to the movement in the background on his end. Voices. The clinking of dishes. Normal life continues while I stand in the bowels of my fortress, planning for a future I’m not sure I’ll survive to see. “Remember that favor you owe me?”
The background noise cuts off abruptly. I imagine him stepping away, seeking privacy. “I do.” His tone shifts, becoming softer, more serious.
“I’d like to cash it in. I need your help.” I turn away from the wall, my boots scraping against the rough stone floor as I head toward the upper levels. The temperature rises as I climb, the cool dampness of the chamber giving way to the dry heat of the corridors above.
The call disconnects with a soft click.
By the time I step out into the courtyard, blinking against the late afternoon sunlight that turns everything gold and amber, Ziggy materializes before me. One moment empty air, the next he’s there—solid and real and smelling of cinnamon and something wild. He barely gives me time to register his presence before he scoops me up in his arms, lifting me clean off my feet.
“I’ve missed you, pumpkin.” He purrs so deeply the vibration rattles through my ribcage, resonating with my own dragonic rumble. The sound makes me smile despite the weight of worry I’ve been carrying.
I purr back, the sound rough and deep in my throat, and nuzzle his cheek. His skin is warm, his stubble scratching lightly against my face. “I’ve missed you too, Daddy.”
My wings flutter slightly with contentment, black leather rustling in the breeze. For a moment, I let myself feel safe. Protected. Like I did when I was younger and the world seemed less full of teeth.
“So? What do you need help with?” He set me down gently and loops his arm through mine. We turn together, heading back inside. The sunlight fades as we cross the threshold, replaced by the cooler shadows of Blackhaven’s interior.
“I sense water on the other side of the egg chamber wall.” I arch a brow at him, watching his expression shift to curiosity. I lead him deeper into my domain, our footsteps echoing off stone that’s stood for centuries. The air grows heavier the further we descend, thick with age and secrets.
“Your home feels terrifying.” He shivers, and I catch the way his pupils dilate, the way his muscles tense beneath his skin. Predator instincts recognizing a greater predator’s territory.
A frown pulls at my lips. We walk deeper into the bowels of Blackhaven, past iron-reinforced doors and through corridors that smell of earth and stone and something older. “You know I would never hurt you.”
I nuzzle his cheek again as we step into the egg chamber, trying to offer comfort. The space opens up around us—vast andcircular, with ancient carvings etched into the walls. The eggs that once filled this place are gone now, leaving only empty raised cradles.
“I know. Instincts are a bitch.” He tilts his head, looking at me with eyes that reflect the dim light like mirrors. “Why didn’t you have Keir phase you into the hidden chamber?”
Ziggy stops just inside the entrance, his weight shifting from foot to foot like he’s ready to bolt. His gaze darts around the space, scanning for threats that don’t exist. The chamber does that to people—makes them feel watched.
Maybe they are. Maybe I am.
I shake off the paranoia and focus on the question. “I did ask Keir. He said blink hounds can’t phase like you do.” The explanation still frustrates me. “Something has to be able to open where there’s airflow for them to move. A cavern that’s closed has no opening and no airflow.”
“Makes sense. They have more limitations than we do.” With that simple statement, Ziggy grabs my arm.
The world tilts sideways, or maybe I do. Reality warps and stretches, colors bleeding together in a nauseating swirl. My stomach lurches, my wings snapping tight against my back instinctively. Then everything snaps back into place with a disorienting jolt.
We’re in the cavern.
The air here is different—warmer, damper, carrying the mineral scent of heated water and earth. Bioluminescent moss clings to the rocks, glowing soft green like captured starlight. The gentle illumination gives us enough light to see the cavern’s basic shape—rough stone walls that curve away into darkness, and the shimmer of water reflecting that eerie green glow.
“It’s perfect.” The words come out breathless, awed. My dragoness surges forward with approval, scales rippling beneath my skin so hard it almost hurts.
I hit the flashlight on my phone, the harsh white beam cutting through the green dimness. The light catches on moisture beading on the stone walls, on the ripples crossing the water’s surface. Steam rises in lazy curls, carrying the sharp scent of minerals and heat.
