Page 25 of Trial of the Cursed Egg

Betrayal seeps into my bones, settling there like ice. My heart thuds dully as I slowly turn back to Abraxis, struggling to breathe through the weight of it all. “Did they all know?” My voice is a choked whisper, the question falling between us like a gavel striking down a sentence. The tears well up, threatening to spill, blurring the world around me.

“Mina, please. Let me explain.” He reaches for me, his expression frantic, but I step back, shaking my head.

“Explain?” I bite out, my voice raw with emotion. “Explain that they knew you were my mate? That they hid it from me?” I can’t stop the tremble in my hands as I press them to my chest. “Let me pour my heart out, worried about having to choose between my mate and my betrothed. All the while, they knew it was you?!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t wait to hear it. I turn on my heel, the tears spilling over as I bolt for the door, pushing through the crowd that parts like water around me.

“Mina, stop!” Ziggy’s voice shouts over the chatter, and I feel, rather than see, the flash of light as he shifts and phases right in front of me, blocking my way. A low growl rumbles in my throat, but I don’t hesitate. The air shifts around me as I let go, my human form melting away as scales replace skin. Claws dig into the dirt as I leap, wings bursting out and unfurling wide.

With a powerful thrust, I launch into the air, the sudden surge of flight filling my chest with something akin to freedom and agony all at once.

The storm outside welcomes me like an old friend. Rain lashes against my scales, the wind roaring in my ears as I climb higher, higher, until the lights of the party below become nothing but specks against the darkness. A mournful roar tears from my throat, echoing through the night—a raw, aching sound filled with pain and betrayal.

My wings beat the wind into submission, but no matter how hard I push, it’s impossible to escape the pain tearing through my chest. Lightning flashes around me, illuminating the storm clouds gathering at the edges of the horizon. I fly on, heading toward points unknown, desperate to outrun the heartbreak clawing at my soul.

Abraxis

We’re wellinto the second quarter, and my mate is avoiding me like the plague. Every time I try to approach her, she slips away, leaving a gaping ache in my chest. It’s a constant reminder of how badly I’ve screwed up. I’ve left dozens of presents for her—mostly weapons and her favorite snacks—scattered between her bed in the dorm and her room at Shadowcarve. She takes the items, carefully moving them to sit somewhere within reach but never touching them more than necessary.

Cora says she cries herself to sleep at night. My heart twists painfully at the thought. She hasn’t said more than two words to anyone since that night at the party. My friends all say the same. We made a horrible mistake keeping the truth from her, and now it feels like she’s slipping further and further away from me. I stare down at the crumpled schedule Lysander gave me; she should be in her art class right now.

With a basket of food in my hand, I head toward the studio building, hoping she’ll give me even a second of her time. As I turn the cornerand glance into the courtyard, I’m surprised to see Callan sitting beside her. My feet hesitate mid-step. They’re perched near the back, under the shade of the sprawling cherry tree, and Mina is quietly painting, oblivious to my presence. Her hair catches the light, but there’s no familiar spark in her gaze.

I steel myself and approach. “Hey, everyone.”

Callan looks up and flashes me a smile that’s a little too bright. “Hey, man. How are you?” He stands and clasps my hand, squeezing lightly.

“Hopefully, Mina will grant me the pleasure of her presence for a picnic.” I risk a glance her way. Her eyes flick to mine, wary but searching. After what feels like an eternity, she nods slowly and stands, carefully wiping her hands on a rag.

Mina walks off without another word, making her way towards the cherry trees lining the far side of the courtyard. I follow behind her, glancing over my shoulder at her canvas. My breath catches when I see what she’s been working on. She’s painting me—the mask from the dance, haunting and vivid on the canvas. A pit of guilt forms in my stomach. I jog to catch up with her, and she’s already seated on the stone edge of the fountain feature at the center of the grove. The cherry blossoms sway gently around her, their soft pink petals floating down like snow.

She looks … thinner. Dark circles shadow her eyes, and the light I love so much is dulled, almost hollow. My chest tightens, but I force myself to keep my expression calm, even as my heart aches to reach out and touch her.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, dropping down beside her. “I’ve spent so long hiding what we are that it became second nature.”

She blinksslowly, her gaze skimming over me before settling on the basket I set between us. “What do you mean ‘so long’?” Her voice is soft but brittle, like a porcelain figurine on the verge of cracking.

I swallow hard, throat tightening as I try to find the words. “I knew the minute you looked at me after you hatched,” I admit, forcing myself to meet her gaze. She’s stopped reaching for the basket, her hand hovering over the handle.

“You knew back then?” Her head tilts slightly to the side. I know that look—she’s searching for more, needing the pieces to fit together.

“It’s rare, but it happens. The moment you turned to face me, and your eyes locked with mine, I felt it. Mom told me that because of who our parents are, I had to hide the bond to protect you until you got your dragon.”

The silence stretches between us, heavy and charged. Slowly, she pulls out a sandwich and sets it on the rim of the fountain, her hands trembling slightly. “So … it’s not that you were ashamed of me because of being half-green dragon?” Her voice wavers, and I see it—the flicker of pain she’s tried so hard to bury.That’s the issue. Because of who her father is, she’s been terrified that I was hiding her.

“Never.” I shake my head vehemently. “Because of who our dads are, they have enemies everywhere. I didn’t want my mate to die before she knew who I was to her. Being betrothed to you was just an added bonus to the mate bond.” I watch her take a hesitant bite of the sandwich, and she sighs, the sound breaking something fragile in me.

“So … that’s why everyone was so invested in keeping me safe? Were they even really my friends?” Her bottom lip quivers, and I feel my resolve cracking.

“In the beginning, to them, it was just an assignment,” I confess, handing her a bottle of water. “But now? The three of them are pissed off at me because you’re not talking to them. They miss you, Mina. They really do.” She’s staring at me now, tears glistening in her eyes. The weight of all those unshed emotions hangs between us, and I know that no matter what I say, it won’t be enough to take away the hurt I caused. But I’ll keep trying. Every day, I’ll keep trying.

“Please,” I whisper, voice rough with emotion, “just give us a chance to make it right. Let us prove that we truly care about you.”

Mina nods slowly and looks up at me, the soft light of the sun through the canopy casting delicate shadows across her face. “Okay, we can try.” Her hand lifts, and the tips of her fingers gently trace over the spot where I marked her. The slight pressure of her touch sends a warm hum through the bond we share, and I can’t help but lean into it. “This is a phenomenal deterrent for most of the population.” She smirks, lips twitching as if fighting to break into a full smile.

I reach up and touch the bite I bear—her mark on me—mirroring her motion. The faint sting of the scar reminds me of everything we’ve been through. For the first time in weeks, my smile is genuine, spreading across my face in a way that feels both unfamiliar and comforting. “I know what you mean,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. There’s something about this shared vulnerability that grounds me in the moment.

“Sorry, not sorry…” She winks, the gesture playful and full of mischief, her head tilting just so, allowing her hair to spill over her shoulder like a silken waterfall. I swallow, the sight of her—defiant, resilient—making my chest tighten.

---