The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,13

took a deep breath, and reached for her magic. The space around her palms began to glow with a golden hue that reminded her of the sun. She pushed the light under the raven’s skin, following it with her mind as she let her eyes fall closed so her thoughts could focus on the broken body sprawled next to her.

The wounds slowly began to heal.

Inch by inch.

Tear by tear.

Lyana worked methodically, focusing on the area that required her immediate attention, using her power to seal the gash in the raven's belly. But there was so much damage. The bones in his wings were crushed. Every inch of his exposed flesh had been burned, and most of his feathers, too. Some of his clothes had melded with his skin, impossible to remove.

Focus on the puncture wound, she reminded herself.

Focus on the bleeding.

Just focus.

The going was slow and required her full concentration. Her magic was awkward, an unexercised limb that fumbled and struggled, out of practice through no fault of her own. The people of all seven houses shared a common belief—that magic was a symbol of the evil which once enslaved them, and a power meant only for their gods. A person in possession of it, whether she be a princess or a pauper, would be sacrificed in order to save the faith.

Every house had a different method of execution. The House of Prey was particularly brutal, she’d heard. They stripped magic-users of their wings and pushed them over the edge, sending them into Vesevios’s arms. Most other houses used public beheadings. Her own, to maintain the image of peace they’d crafted so well, brought people discovered to have magic into the sacred nest, where only the king, the priests, and Aethios himself would witness the slaying.

Sitting on the sky bridge, saving a man from the edge of death, Lyana had no idea how anyone could ever think her magic a blight on their devotion to the gods. It was a gift from Aethios. Why else would it sparkle like the sun’s rays on a clear day? But that didn’t change the fact that if an outsider saw what she was doing, she’d be put to death. Even if that outsider happened to be the person whose life she’d saved.

“Ahh,” a deep voice groaned.

Lyana snatched her hands away as her eyes flew open.

“Who?” The man spoke again. This time he blinked, cerulean irises flashing to life once, then twice, as his vision adjusted, finding her face—seeing it. Only when their eyes met did she realize he wasn’t an old man. His gaze still held the vitality of youth, the stupidity of it. Hers must have reflected the same.

The unmistakable creaking of a bow pulled taut filtered into her ear. Lyana turned to Cassi, holding up her hand, ordering her to stop.

“He’s seen your face,” her friend murmured darkly.

“I didn’t save him just to kill him.”

Cassi widened her imploring eyes, the arrow steady in her hands, ready to strike. “He’s seen your face.”

“And in his delirium, he’s noticed nothing else.”

“Then we should go, now, before he does.”

Lyana turned back to the raven, scanning the burns all over his body, thoughts returning to the shattered bones in his wings. He’d never heal on his own. He’d never fly again. He’d be as good as dead if they left now, or worse even—alive without access to the sky.

“What if we take him somewhere? What if we hide him?”

“And then what?” Cassi asked with relentless logic, when all Lyana wanted was to act on instinct and heart.

She knew this was risky, insane, dangerous. But with her knees soaked in his blood and her ears picking up on his every strained heartbeat, she couldn’t find the will to do the smart thing—to leave. Deep in her chest, something bubbled and prickled, a warm sort of fizz. The thrill of adventure. The excitement of doing something for herself in these last few days before she was mated, shipped to some foreign land, and forced into the role she was born to play.

“We’ll take him to the cave,” Lyana said in a moment of pure clarity. “We’ll come back tonight when it’s dark and check in on him. With his wings so broken, he won’t be able to escape unless I heal him. And before I do, we’ll make him swear an oath of silence before the gods. I’ll wear some sort of disguise, plain clothes, so he won’t realize who I am. And we’ll release him in