The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,87

sun shining brightly. And by her side, a hawk appeared with two perfect wings and frosty eyes that reminded her of the moon.

“Kasiandra.”

“Mother.”

They didn’t embrace or gush or wilt at the sight of one another. Her mother had led a tough life, one that didn’t lend itself to histrionic displays of affection. She was a hunter, not a lover. But the warmth in her tone was enough for Cassi. In fact, it was everything.

“The king has a job for you,” Cassi said, getting straight to the point.

Her mother shifted her stance, feet spreading wide, hands clasping behind her back, gaze searching the horizon—a sailor through and through. “And?”

Cassi's words tumbled out in a cascade, faster than she could control, but it was the only way—one quick shot. As she spoke, her mother’s eyes darkened a shade, flickering with old demons, and a muscle worked in her cheek as if she were biting back memories. Her lips, though, remained a thin, determined line. The fortitude in her gave Cassi hope, because if her mother could endure this, Cassi would too. For the sake of them all.

In the quiet following her words, her mother sighed, closing her eyes for a brief yet long moment. When she opened them, all the shadows were gone. She turned to her daughter, expression soft with sympathy. “Is that all?”

Cassi snorted. “Is it not enough?”

The captain reached across the space between them and pressed her palm to Cassi’s cheek, there and gone, a touch so swift it could have been imagined except for the warm tingle that lingered. “Leave your worries to your waking hours, Kasiandra. They will always be there, waiting. Dreams, especially your dreams, are made for so much more.”

Cassi followed her mother’s eyes as they moved to the sky and then returned to her, sparkling with streaks of silver. The corner of her lip lifted, as did a single brow in silent question as she nodded toward the blinding sun.

With that her mother turned, ran, and launched into the sky with the graceful speed of a predator, a hunting cry spilling from her throat. Cassi leapt after her, a set of matching hawk wings on her back. They dipped, dove, and sped in unison, drawing arches in the wind, two birds moving as one. The landscape changed to fit Cassi’s mood, into canyons they could swerve through, mountains to scale, trees to dodge, or even crashing waves that splashed water on their skin. Whatever she wanted. Whatever she imagined. Her mother was right—her dreams were beautiful, and they were made for more than dark thoughts and draining ruminations.

In the real world, Cassi was an owl because that was the only bird they had been able to steal for the transformation at the time. Her fears and doubts were sometimes suffocating. Her double life hung around her neck like an ever-tightening noose, one that was becoming more and more difficult to ignore. Her mother was a sea captain because standing at the bow of her ship, a single wing wide to catch the wind, was the closest she could come to flying. She was lonely, though she’d never admit it, and always searching for something more in that distant, ever-deepening horizon.

But here, in Cassi’s magic, they could be whatever they wanted. A mother and a daughter. Together. United. Just two hawks racing in the breeze, for a few short hours at least.

37

Lyana

A quiet knock on the door pulled Lyana from the last vestiges of sleep, forcing her to finally open her eyes and stretch muscles still recovering from the long flight the day before.

“I’m coming,” she called, wondering who it could be.

Cassi was still asleep on the chair in the corner, and the sun had barely risen in the sky, if the lingering pink hues outside her window were anything to go by. When Lyana opened the door, an unfamiliar sight greeted her—a raven girl in simple clothes, whose head was lowered.

“Good morning, Princess,” the girl whispered, voice on the edge of apologetic yet tinged with something else—curiosity, maybe. “The queen requests your presence at breakfast.”

Lyana sighed.

Before she had time to respond, three other raven girls appeared and shuffled into the room without a word. One quickly moved to the bed, tugging the sheets into place and fluffing the pillows. Another went to the closet, pulling the door open and shifting through a wardrobe. The third hurried to the vanity near the balcony, opening drawers and arranging bottles full of salves. The girl who had