Chapter 32
Raven
Almost two months later…
I can’t leave my egg.
It’s not a physical restriction—no chain binds me to the nest, no barrier prevents me from walking away. I simply don’t want to. The thought of putting more than a few feet of distance between myself and that obsidian shell makes my chest tighten, makes my dragoness snarl and pace beneath my skin. Three feet of precious life, growing stronger every day, and I refuse to let it out of my sight for more than a few minutes at a time.
So to solve my present dilemma, I invite my mother and my extended family here so I can meet my new siblings. If I can’t go to them, they’ll come to me.
Everyone uses the upper landing field; their wings stirring the air into currents I feel even from the courtyard below. They’ll descend the carved stone steps and gather in the open space where I can watch them and my egg simultaneously. Corvus is already shifted in the yard, his massive war drake form stretched out on the sun-warmed flagstones, my egg nestledsafely between his powerful forelegs. His silver scales gleam in the afternoon light, and his silver eyes track every movement in the courtyard with predatory awareness. Nothing will get past him. Nothing will touch our daughter.
The perimeter wall bristles with guards I trained myself—men and women who move with the precision I drilled into them over months of relentless practice. They stand at attention, hands on weapons, eyes scanning the tree line and the sky with equal vigilance. My progeny and my guests will be protected. I will accept nothing less.
Blink hounds prowl the property, their dark forms flickering in and out of visibility as they patrol. I catch glimpses of them—a shadow here, a flash of black eyes there—before they vanish again into the spaces between moments. They’ve been instructed to prioritize the hatchlings if anything happens. Get the children out first. Then the adults. In that order. No exceptions.
Standing before the mirror in my chambers, I examine my reflection with a critical eye.
The gown I chose is long and black; the fabric flowing like liquid shadow around my legs. It clings to my curves before cascading to the floor in a whisper of silk. The neckline plunges low, the back cut away entirely to accommodate my wings. They rise behind me, glossy black leather catching the light, powerful and proud.
The majority of the scales I possess in human form are visible in this dress. They swirl across my shoulders like living armor, catching the light in shades of iridescent black and flat black. They cascade down my biceps in intricate patterns, each one smooth and hard beneath my fingertips when I trace them. Fora long time, I thought they marked me as different. Wrong. Too dragon to be human, too human to be dragon.
I know better now.
From what Solaris told me, the most powerful dragonesses of his time had a tenth of the scales I do. A tenth. My power and my bloodline are written in these scales—a declaration of what I am and what I’m capable of. The thick band of scales running down my spine protects it from the edge of my hairline all the way down to my tailbone, an armor I was born with, a gift from my father’s ancient blood.
I place the diadem Klauth gifted me on my head, settling it carefully atop my braided hair. The metal is cool against my forehead, the weight of it familiar and grounding. Sapphires and onyx glitter in the ornate design, catching the light and scattering it in tiny prisms across the walls.
“They’re here.”
Hemlocke’s voice is soft, warm. I smile, meeting his pink eyes in the mirror. He stands in the doorway, tall and lean, watching me with an expression that makes heat bloom in my chest. I felt them arrive the moment they landed in the field above—the pressure of multiple dragons touching down, the subtle vibration through the stone beneath my feet—but I appreciate he came to tell me, anyway.
“Thank you, my love.” I turn and walk to him slowly, my bare feet silent on the cool stone floor. I rest a hand on his forearm, feeling the warmth of his skin, the firm muscle beneath. “Let’s go see everyone.”
He kisses me softly, his lips gentle against mine, tasting faintly of the dark berries he favors. Then he turns to lead me out of mynest, his hand finding the small of my back in a gesture that’s become second nature between us.
I have an ulterior motive for gathering everyone here today.
My egg is due to hatch today. It’s ahead of schedule, but that’s because of who her father is. The knowledge sits warm and secret in my chest, a truth I’ve kept close for weeks. Soon, everyone will know. Soon, I’ll hold my daughter in my arms.
But first, I have family to greet.
I hold on to Hemlocke’s arm as we walk through the winding corridors of Blackhaven, the torchlight flickering against the dark stone walls. The air grows warmer as we approach the courtyard, carrying the scent of summer grass and dragon musk and something sweeter—the unmistakable smell of hatchlings.
“You look beautiful.” Hemlocke says, pausing to kiss my cheek. His breath is warm against my skin, his lips soft.
“Thank you.” I smile up at him, squeezing his arm. “Felt like dressing up a little. It’s a very special day, after all.”
We step out into the courtyard, and chaos greets us.
Six new hatchlings run around the open space, their tiny claws clicking against the flagstones, their high-pitched chirps and squeaks filling the air with joyful noise. They tumble over each other, nip at tails and wings, chase shadows and sunbeams with equal enthusiasm. The courtyard, usually so orderly and controlled, has transformed into a playground.
A fluffy gryphon hatchling prances across the yard, its downy feathers ruffled by the warm breeze. It’s all oversized paws and tufted ears and a beak that opens in adorable little shrieks of excitement. Beside it bounces an armored nightmare colt, itsdark coat already showing the metallic sheen of its heritage. Its hooves strike sparks against the stone as it leaps and plays.
A red and green dragon hatchling stops mid-chase and stares up at me. Klauth’s daughter. She’s small—barely larger than a large dog—but I can already see the strength in her frame, the intelligence in her jewel-bright eyes. Her scales shimmer in the sunlight, ruby red bleeding into emerald green in patterns that will only grow more striking as she ages.
I kneel down, spreading my wings slightly for balance, and extend a hand toward her. “Come here, little one.”
