Raven rises to her feet with surprising grace for something so large, and Xero climbs into my lap, pressing herself securely under the horn ridge where she’s protected from wind and flight hazards. Raven launches up into the sky with powerful beats of her enormous wings, and within several strokes, we’re above the clouds. The air is cooler up here, thin and crisp, making my lungs work harder.
She finds a thermal and glides toward Malivore, her wings spread wide to catch the updraft. A powerful roar escapes her maw as we breach the border into her mother’s territory—a declaration of presence that echoes across the mountains like thunder.
A half-dozen answering roars fill the air as younger dragons launch up into the sky to follow us toward Dragonis Academy. I can feel Raven’s joy through our bond—bright as sunlight—as the other dragons join us in flight. As much as she claims she’s not missing her old flight, I know deep down she is. The wayshe rumbles greetings to each dragon speaks of loneliness she’d never admit aloud.
Before we know it, we’re already breaching the flight field at the academy. Klauth and Balor stand in the field below, greeting arriving students with the authority of teachers welcoming their charges home.
Lily and Thorne leap off Raven’s back fearlessly and shift mid-fall, gliding down to the field with practiced ease. As they land and clear the landing zone, other dragons begin their descent. Keir grabs both Hemlocke and me without warning, and suddenly we’re blinking through space—that disorienting sensation of being unmade and remade somewhere else. When reality solidifies, we’re standing in the field, and I shoot him a half-glare.
I shake my head at my bondmate in mock annoyance. “Our Raven is massive,” Klauth says as he shakes my hand, his grip firm, and his ancient eyes carrying pride mixed with concern.
“Her face is almost entirely white now. There’s only a small spot back behind her horns that’s still black,” I mention as my bond mates catch up to us, both looking slightly windswept from their unconventional arrival.
Raven touches down behind us, and despite her enormous size, she still lands completely silent—a feat that shouldn’t be possible for something that large. On her front left leg, clearly visible even from this distance, you can see the single crimson scale that Klauth gave her—proof of her ascension and his claim on her as daughter.
Raven has a presence about her, especially with the way she lifts her head at a certain angle. The pose is regal and commanding,and suddenly it feels almost as if I need to bow to her. The urge is powerful and instinctive, making my knees want to bend of their own accord.
“She’s taken more after me than I originally suspected. Feel that? The urge to lower yourself?” Klauth’s voice carries recognition and something darker—concern, perhaps, or worry. I nod when he looks at me for confirmation. “That is a red dragon gift. Black dragons have intimidation; reds have presence. Our Raven has both.”
The implications of that combination send a chill through me despite the warm afternoon. A dragon with both gifts would be nearly impossible to oppose, a force of nature given flesh and will.
Raven shifts back to her human form, the transformation flowing like water, and walks over to where we stand. Even in human form, she carries that same commanding presence, though it’s muted enough not to trigger the instinctive submission response.
“Hi, Dads,” Raven whispers before hugging both Balor and Klauth with obvious affection, her wings folding carefully so they don’t get in the way.
“Hey, little one. I grabbed your envelope for you,” Balor says as he hands Raven her school assignments, the thick packet rustling slightly in the evening breeze.
“Thanks.” She pulls the papers out with careful fingers, and her eyes flicker rapidly between human sapphire and dragon slits as she scans the contents. “I’m running the gauntlet.” Her voice is firmer than I’ve ever heard it, carrying an edge of steelthat makes my silver scales prickle with warning. “I will not be isolated because of what my future holds.”
She glares at Klauth, and suddenly both powers hit us at once—intimidation and presence combining into something overwhelming. It feels like being punched in the gut while simultaneously being forced to submit. Klauth staggers backward despite his ancient strength, while Balor and I are driven to our knees by the sheer force of her will. A low snarl escapes Raven’s lips, the sound carrying threat and fury in equal measure.
Before anyone can say anything to her, before we can even catch our breath, she turns and walks away with Xero perched on her shoulder. The tressym’s feline head rests against the vertical bone of Raven’s black wing, and I notice for the first time the slight bump in the leather membrane—a scar from where the bone was broken all those months ago. The scales lay just a little differently there, creating a subtle texture that speaks of old pain and successful healing.
“Shit...” Balor gasps as he struggles to his feet, one hand pressed to his chest like he’s checking that his heart is still beating. “What the hell was that? I felt like something knocked the air out of me and then drove me to the ground.” We turn to look at a very concerned-looking Klauth, whose usually composed face shows genuine alarm.
“Raven is more powerful than we originally suspected. She used both dragon gifts at once,” he says slowly, as if still processing what just happened. He scans the area with newfound caution, looking around as if he’s reassessing every student in sight. “I need to go talk to Thauglor.” He turns and walks off quickly, his usual confident stride replaced by something more urgent.
“What set Raven off?” I ask Balor once I’ve caught my breath, my lungs still feeling compressed from the double assault.
“Klauth removed her from running the gauntlet. She’s next in line for the throne. I guess no one remembered to ask Raven what she wanted.” He shakes his head slowly, and I can hear genuine regret in his voice. “She’s more headstrong than her mother.”
“What do you mean, more? Raven is very easygoing ninety percent of the time.” I’m genuinely puzzled by the comparison, having seen Mina’s legendary temper on display.
“You also haven’t gone head to head with her,” Balor points out with the tone of someone who has and regretted it. “Look at it this way—she has the red dragon’s stubbornness. It’s their way or the highway. She also has the black dragon’s tendency to destroy anything that doesn’t work the way they want and start over from scratch.”
We watch Raven in the distance, interacting with her siblings with obvious affection despite her recent display of temper. They’re laughing together, and she seems completely calm now, as if she didn’t just force two powerful males to their knees moments ago. Eventually, they walk toward Malivore, their forms silhouetted against the setting sun.
“Gods help anyone that messes with Lily or Orpheus,” Balor says with a heavy sigh that speaks of expected carnage.
“Or the new hatchlings that are coming this winter,” I mention offhandedly, thinking about Mina’s announcement.
Balor’s eyes flare with something that might be fear. “Yeah, Mina told us Raven has threatened to melt the countryside ifanyone messes with her new siblings.” The casual violence in the statement makes him shudder slightly.
“Yeah, she loves babies. We’ve had four hatchlings hatch since we took over Blackhaven. There are at least six clutches waiting to hatch.” I do a mental recount of all the eggs our den is currently protecting, feeling pride mix with the responsibility of so many young lives depending on us.
“That’s more than Sovereign. We have three clutches. No new babies have hatched since Raven took over Blackhaven,” Balor tilts his head, looking from me back in the direction Raven disappeared. “I’m going to call a nest meeting. We may call you guys tonight.”
He walks away, heading toward Leander with purpose in his stride. I stand here alone, looking over the campus as shadows lengthen and the first evening stars appear. The scent of pine and mountain air fills my lungs, mixing with the lingering ozone from multiple dragon transformations.
Here’s to another year of insanity. Hopefully, the danger level will be lower, and Raven can have a peaceful year. But looking at the setting sun painting the sky in shades of blood orange and deep purple, I somehow doubt peace is in our future.
