Chapter 25
Raven
I’m takinga huge chance flying to Mom’s nest unannounced like this, but I really need to talk to her. There are going to be questions later about how abruptly I left Shadowcarve—my mates and dads all saw me take off without explanation. It doesn’t matter. I need this.
I’ve had a crisis of identity for as long as I’ve lived. I’m Mina’s daughter—the legendary six-time female gauntlet winner who redefined what dragonesses could achieve. Daughter of the legendary Thauglor Mrithun, war drake, and destroyer of half the continent over a thousand years ago.
How do you live up to legend when you just want to survive?
I roar as I breach the mountains surrounding Sovereign, announcing my arrival. I circle the upper courtyard, my wings catching the thermal updrafts. Vaughn steps outside as I circle overhead and waves me down to land with welcoming gestures.
I shift mid-descent and glide the rest of the way to the ground on my wings alone, landing with bent knees. I immediately hug him tight, breathing in his familiar scent of earth and stone. “Hi,Dad.” My wings slip over his shoulders as his own wings wrap around me in return.
“To what do I owe such a warm welcome?” Vaughn asks gently as he opens his wings and steps back to look at me properly.
“I need to see Mom. I really need her opinion on things,” I admit, and my bottom lip quivers traitorously at the mention of needing Mom’s guidance. I’m terrified of what she might think—afraid of disappointing her.
Vaughn nods with understanding in his kind eyes and leads me inside through the familiar corridors to the neutral sitting room. The space smells like home—old books and dragon and the faint scent of the incense Mom likes to burn.
I sit on my favorite couch and curl into the soft pillows like I used to when I was small, seeking comfort. A deep, rumbling purr catches me off guard, and I look over the back of the couch to come nose to nose with Ziggy’s displacer beast form.
“Daddy Ziggy!” I squeal like a child, diving over the back of the couch without hesitation. He catches me easily with his tentacles and hugs me against his warm, fur-covered body. Within seconds, the world tilts sideways in that distinctive way his teleportation works, and suddenly I’m deep within Mom’s private quarters.
He releases me gently, and I see my mom circling her eggs in the massive nest that Callan built with his own hands. She’s in human form, her silver, and emerald scales catching the soft light as she moves with protective vigilance.
“Hi, Mom,” I say in a soft tone that betrays how worried I am about this conversation.
“Raven, just the woman I need. Come here,” she says immediately, waving me over with urgency. She reaches out and touches Dad Thauglor’s egg with trembling fingers. “Can you check it? Please?”
I stare at the massive gray-black egg and reach a hand out slowly, closing my eyes to focus. My senses stretch out like invisible fingers, and at first, I feel the first heartbeat—strong and steady, thumping with life.
Dropping to my knees on the soft nest material, I slide both hands down the smooth shell and flex my wings for balance.
Do you feel it?I hear Dad’s voice clearly in my head—the wyrm bond between us developing and strengthening.
Dad?I ask through the connection with surprise and wonder.
Yes, little one. Tell me what you sense,his voice comes back, warm and encouraging despite the distance between us.
The scales along my back and shoulders raise and lower involuntarily as I push my energy deeper into the egg, searching. There—a second heartbeat, faint but present. It’s steady and a little slower than the first, but it’s definitely there. It’s strong but quieter, like it’s sleeping while its sibling is awake.
Both are viable. I feel them both clearly. The second hatchling’s heart is slower but strong,I send back through the wyrm bond, hoping the message carries clearly.
I stand up slowly, my legs shaking slightly from the effort, and see the naked fear in my mother’s golden eyes. “Both are viable. I feel them clearly. The second hatchling’s heart is slower, but it’s there. It’s strong.”
The minute the last word leaves my mouth, Mom dives into my arms, crying with relief. I hold her tight, closing her in my wings the way Dad does, creating a safe cocoon. I purr softly for her, trying to soothe her fears with the vibration.
Callan’s gryphon comes prancing back into the chamber and stops dead when it sees me standing there. He shifts on the spot—his form compressing from beast to man—and runs over to us. He looks at the eggs, then back at me with desperate hope. “I felt both heartbeats,” I confirm before he can ask. “They’re both strong.”
“Thank the goddess,” he breathes, sagging with relief. He looks back at the eggs and immediately starts rearranging them for what seems like the millionth time, judging by how perfectly arranged the nest already looks.
Mom wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and looks deep into mine with that knowing gaze that sees everything. “Something is troubling you.” It’s not a question.
She takes my hand and leads me out of the egg chamber, up through the nest’s winding corridors to her kitchen. The familiar space smells of herbs and baking bread. Mom warms some milk in a small pot and puts dark chocolate shavings into it along with cocoa powder. She stirs it carefully and pours the steaming mixture into my favorite mug—the one with kittens painted on it I’ve had since I was five.
She slides it across the counter to me. “Talk.”
I slide into what was my favorite seat at the breakfast bar and pull my wings in close, making myself smaller. “I’m tired of trying to live up to what you and Dad accomplished,” I admit in a rush. I exhale roughly and take a deep sip of my drink, needingthe courage. The chocolate goodness settles something anxious in my chest.
