Page 10 of Trial of the Cursed Egg

The headmaster’s expression hardens, and his voice drops to a dangerous tone. “I know who her betrothed is. He’s proud to have a strong, cunning female at his side, not a breeding tool. He wants a partner.”

The words send warmth flooding through me, and I want to believe that he’s right. That my betrothed — wherever he is—feels the same way. I touch the pendant hanging around my neck, my fingers brushing over the cool metal. I swear I can almost feel him close, like a shadow lingering just out of reach.

“When you see him,” I say softly, eyes dropping for a moment before meeting the headmaster’s gaze, “tell him... thank you. For everything.”

The headmaster nods, and I step away from the table, clutching the dark green envelope tighter, my heart still racing.

Balor falls into step with me as I return to my friends. “Told you I’d see you again,” he says with a smirk.

“Kinda figured, given our last conversation,” I reply, tipping my head toward him. “Thank you for that.”

“We protect our own,” he says simply, motioning to where Zigmander, Abraxis, and Leander stand. “You’ve got our support.”

I glance at Abraxis and snort. “You can’t count Abraxis. By his age, he’s either betrothed or has a female with a nest by now. He’s too strong not to.”

Balor grins. “Abraxis is counted. His betrothed is still too young. She’s got less than a year before he can claim her.” He studies me, tilting his head.

I hold up the dark green envelope. “Protocol can kiss my ass.”

Balor laughs, shaking his head. “Lysander is definitely flipping off dragonic protocols right about now.”

“My dad did too,” I realize, the clarity hitting me like a wave. “He chose a male for me who would rather I fight at his side than rot in an egg chamber. That’s why he trained me so hard.” A slow smile spreads across my face. My father gave me my freedom, and I didn’t even know it.

Mina

The weekend slips away fasterthan I’d like, leaving a faint sense of dread as Monday arrives. We spent the past two days exploring the campus, mapping out the most efficient routes between buildings. It felt like a game at the time, but now, as I sit at dinner on Sunday night, the reality sinks in—I’ll only have friends with me for the first two classes each day. Cora will be by my side until the end of third period on Mondays and Tuesdays, but after that, I’m on my own at Shadowcarve Campus. The thought twists uneasily in my stomach. The student manual reassured us that books will be provided in class, with a second set arriving at the dorms by the end of the first week, but that’s little comfort when I consider how vast and unfamiliar everything feels.

-Monday—First day of classes-

This morning, I pack light—just my backpack with my leathers and a few notebooks. The uniforms aren’t exactly my style. The girls wear black dresses with waist ribbons that correspond to our designation.Mine is a green so dark it might as well be black, blending in with the dress. The boys have it slightly better, I think, with their gray tunics and matching belts. Trainers get more freedom, allowed to wear their leathers or street clothes. As for the instructors, they wear whatever pleases them. I almost envy them.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I head out, eager to catch up with the others. The hallways are still unfamiliar, stretching out in eerie silence. That creeping feeling of being watched prickles at my skin, making me glance up. Perched on a ledge above, a raven watches me with beady, black eyes. Its presence is unsettling, though Iris seems oblivious, making her usual chattering noise before we move on. I quicken my pace, eager to be outside.

I break into a run, the chill air brushing past as I descend the stairs and burst out into the courtyard. The campus is stunning, with its towering structures and lush greenery, but it’s the sheer number of students that catches my breath. So many people, all moving with purpose, all already finding their place. I feel like an outsider in the rush.

I check my schedule and head to my first class—science. As I enter the room, relief floods me when I spot Addy and Garrett, already seated. I slide into a spot near them, glancing across the room to where Cora’s trapped on the opposite side. My relief quickly fades, though, as I spot Arista and Demi. The way they lean into each other, whispering, and glancing in my direction, sends a jolt of unease down my spine. I can already feel the tension building. Whatever happens next, I just know it’s going to be trouble.

Kai Martz, manticore. The name stares back at me from the board, stark white letters on the black surface. He speaks in a low, droning voice, but there’s an undercurrent to it, a dangerous hum like thesound of a wasp too close to your ear. He’s explaining the course structure: year one will be all about the science behind how the dragons were trapped in cursed eggs. The word “dragon” makes my pen hesitate for just a second, the image of one flashing in my mind, scales, and fire, trapped in a tiny, cursed prison. But I push the thought away and continue scribbling notes.

Arista, always trying to prove she’s cleverer than she is, starts tossing paper wads in my direction. She thinks she’s subtle, but I see them from the corner of my eye. I’m about to ignore her when I hear the unmistakable shift in Kai’s voice.

“Arista Delamore, correct?” His voice cuts through the room like a blade, and suddenly, the air feels heavier. It’s the presence of his beast, just under the surface, pushing against the human mask he wears. I can feel the shift, the way his power ripples through the room like a dangerous current.

Arista stands slowly, the legs of her chair screeching against the floor in a way that sets my teeth on edge. Every head in the room turns toward her. Except mine. I’m still writing, the scratch of my pen the only sound I can focus on.

“Yes, sir?” she says, but there’s a wobble in her voice that wasn’t there before.

Kai tilts his head, a slow, deliberate movement that speaks of dominance and power. His eyes pin her in place. “For someone who barely made it ten yards into the gauntlet, you should reconsider picking on this year’s winner.” His words are like a lash, and I hear the sharp intake of breath from those around me. “According to your brown sash, you didn’t score well enough to be placed in a program either.”

The tension in the room spikes, an almost palpable thing pressing down on my shoulders. I draw in a deep breath, listening to thehumiliation sink into Arista’s skin, the way her bravado crumbles right in front of everyone. “She’s wearing a black sash,” Arista snaps, her voice sharper now, pointing at me with a sneer. “She didn’t get anything.”

I finally turn, locking eyes with her for the first time, a smirk curling at my lips. The room goes still, waiting for what comes next. Kai’s smile is slow, almost predatory. “That dark green, almost black, sash is for Shadowcarve campus,” he corrects, his voice smooth and deadly. “One place even I don’t tread.”

His words hang in the air as the bell rings, the shrill sound breaking the tension, but not entirely. People start moving, gathering their things, but their eyes keep darting between Arista and me. Kai stands at his desk, arms crossed, his gaze following me as I pack up my notebook.

“Your assignment for the next class,” he calls out, just as I reach the door, “is to think about which egg you would want and why.” I glance back once, catching the flicker of something dangerous in his eyes before I step into the hallway. I don’t need to think about which egg I want, I don’t want any.

My second-period literature class goes by in a blur, a mix of disjointed phrases and half-remembered quotes floating past me. Isobel, the green hag, drones on about how this year’s course will focus on the history of the dominant species in our society. I can barely focus; her voice sounds like sandpaper against my nerves. At least second period lets out early, giving me time to get my bearings for the next class. I head over to the Aurelian Conservatory with Cora, our footsteps echoing in the nearly empty halls.

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