Page 17 of Shadow's Raven

Now that his Council was solely filled by those he considered his family–chosen or otherwise–Draven usually avoided reading us, especially after Lyric had told him how invasive it could feel.

“No, Draven. This is easier. He’s a jumbled mess and I’m hungry and tired. Please let him Cas. He’ll only look at what you show him, right?”

“Of course,” he insisted.

Rubbing the skin where Lyric had slapped me, I realized seeing might be more impactful than hearing. Grudgingly, I lowered my shields and waited for him to cycle through the recollections of my dreams, of the female, starting with the first time she appeared.

I didn’t fully understand why I’d kept it secret. Something in me didn’t want to share her, not until I had a handle on whatever was going on.

Draven’s brow furrowed. “You failed to mention what else was in your dream.”

“Keep going.” He obviously hadn’t gotten to last night’s events.

Swiftly, the Shadow Lord’s hand clutched his chest. “What the hell?” he whispered, letting go of my mind.

“My thoughts exactly.”

Lyric looked between us both. “What? What did you see?”

“He’s been dreaming of a female.”

Her navy gaze sharpened on my face. For a second, I thought she might try to hit me again.

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me,” she chastened. “I’m, like, your best friend, Cas.”

“You're more like a little sister,” I corrected. “An annoying one.”

“Exactly! So why didn’t you tell me? Wait, is it someone we know? Is she at Embour? Have I kicked her ass?! Will we need family therapy already?” she shrilled, sounding slightly panicked that she’d done something to harm someone who could be important to me.

“No. She’s not a Shadow. I’ll show you,” Draven said, presumably playing my nightmares for her.

Sharing thoughts and images was something mates could do. Well, mates who shared soulbonds. Not everyone wanted such an intense connection, especially because when one soul died, the other typically died with it.

Lyric gasped. “Your mate is seriously hot, dude, but her face turned into a pecker and that’s gotta be a real turnoff.”

“Gods, Lyric,” I coughed.

I shouldn’t have been surprised she just threw it all out there like that. I hadn’t even whispered the wordmateto myself, even knowing Shadow demons who dreamt of the same female night after night were usually about to meet their soulmate in real life.

Only a fraction of Shadows found their predestined mate within their first century of life. Many ended up refusing to wait and mated once they found a suitable match. It was considered a gift to find your soulmate at my age, still a number of decades from that century mark. Though, I’d been second-guessing this assessment since the moment I’d had my heart ripped out.

“I’m thinking the removal of his heart might be a more pressing detail,” Draven told her.

“Maybe. I was more focused on the change in her face because I get the feeling she’s not a bird shifter.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Every bird shifter in every faction has a red tinge to their eyes. Hers were purplish, which could hint at red, but they changed to solid green when her face went wonky. Shifters typically don’t have the magic that would alter eye color. Very few Others can alter their eyes. I would assume she’s fae, but I know the slight point of her ears doesn’t guarantee it. There are at least three factions within traveling distance that have that trait.”

“Or,” Draven said, “it could be that the change was simply part of the dream, and not something she can do in reality. The ears are the biggest clue.”

I considered both their takes. “Possibly, but none of that changes anything. I need to find her. I don’t know her name. I don’t know for certain what kind of Other she is, though I’ve narrowed it down. I only really know that she comes to me every night, I think she could be my mate, and I think she might be in trouble.”

“Or, instead of being your mate, she might be the trouble coming for you,” Draven countered.

Lyric slapped his abs. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Did you just hit—” Draven’s words were cut short by the blare of Embour’s alarm.