Page 42 of Trial of the Cursed Egg

“Klauth never chooses anyone,” I murmur, closing my eye briefly just feeling her hand against my face. Other than the healers, over two hundred years ago, I haven’t let anyone lay a hand on me outside of combat. The thought makes me want to lean into her touch, to savor it.

“He and the black egg chose my dragon and me,” she says firmly, looking down at the egg, then back up into my gaze. “She sang to them, and they both lit up. My dragoness wanted an egg. Through herwillalone, we were chosen.” Her voice is steady, but there’s a fire behind it, a fierce protectiveness that matches the raw power simmering in the surrounding air. She steps back, her hand falling from my face, and I miss its heat immediately.

The courtyard has gone utterly silent, the usual hum of voices and shuffling feet replaced by an oppressive quiet. She gently scoops the egg out of its carrier, holding it up for the others to see. The third and fourth years watching in the courtyard are struck dumb, their mouths hanging open in awe.

A low, ominous rumble starts in the sky. The smell of ozone thickens. My gaze snaps upward as lightning flashes overhead, crackling and arcing through the clouds. A ripple of current dances up Mina’s hornsas her familiar, the faerie dragon, lands lightly on her shoulder.I knew it.She’s been gifted with the ability to wield her dragon’s breath weapon in human form.

She turns, her glare sweeping across the courtyard, silencing any remaining whispers. I almost feel sorry for the students—almost. Never mess with a female with an egg. I’ve seen dragons raze entire countrysides to protect their nests, and the look in her eyes promises nothing less.

“Let’s move this into my office,” I say quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her. Her eyes widen slightly, and I pull back, suddenly self-conscious, shoving my hand into my pocket.

Without another word, I turn and start toward my office, my mind still reeling from the revelation. Mina, with an egg. I glance back, just once, to see her following close behind, the egg cradled protectively against her chest. The sight sends a thrill of something unfamiliar through me—something dangerously close to hope.

Mina

So my firstinstinct with Callan was correct. He’s a mate of mine, and I need to protect him. It’s a feeling that thrums through my entire being, driving me forward like a force of nature. I tuck the egg back into its carrier with careful hands, feeling the weight of it before I follow closely behind him. The air between us is tense—like a live wire ready to snap. We move up the stairs to his third-floor office, each step echoing like a drumbeat in the quiet corridor.

Once inside, I take a seat in the recliner where I can see the entire room—every entrance, every exit, every vulnerable spot. I’m aware of each person as they file in, their presence as familiar and comforting as the hum of energy that buzzes beneath my skin. Abraxis shifts behind me, his reassuring presence at my back as I cradle the egg. The weight of their gazes falls on me, but it’s Callan’s—sharp and wary—that I feel the most. He might be reluctant, but he’s mine.

“Abraxis and I are being moved to the Malivore Campus,” I say, the words coming out steady, though the decision leaves an acidic tastein my mouth. I take a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs as I look around at these men who have become like a second family to me. I save Callan for last—my reluctant mate. He’s the male who both fascinates and frustrates me in equal measure. “I’m building my nest, and I want you four with me.”

The air shifts, crackling with energy as I turn my gaze to Balor. “Besides me, you’re a very gifted poison master. I’m not able to be everywhere at once, and knowing you’re watching out for me and everyone here would mean the world to me.” My voice is firm but soft, like I’m handling something precious.

Balor’s eyes flick up to Abraxis, then back down to me. He gives a single nod. “I accept.” No hesitation, no questions. Just acceptance. The moment the words leave his lips, he turns on his heels and leaves the room. Heading off to pack whatever he needs for the move.

I shift my attention to Ziggy and offer him a smile. “Who else is going to help me escape if it’s my only option?” I raise a brow, letting a hint of amusement curl my lips. “That, and you’re the best candidate to be spymaster for my nest. If you accept.” Abraxis’s hand tightens on my shoulder, a subtle show of support.

Ziggy smirks, not even bothering to look at Abraxis for permission. “Sounds like a fun time. I’m in.” He winks before vanishing from the room, leaving only the faint scent of his cologne behind.

“Lee…” I chuckle softly, feeling the tension in the room lighten for a heartbeat. “You can read anyone like an open book, and that’s an extremely valuable tool to keep the nest safe. Will you join us?” I tilt my head, my dragon’s influence bleeding into my voice as I hold his gaze.

Leander studies me for a moment, then shakes his head with a huff. “How can I say no? Besides, I’ve gotten tired of staring at your mate’sface for the last fifteen years. The scenery has vastly improved.” He flashes a grin and turns, leaving only Callan with us in the room.

The door clicks shut behind him, and silence settles like a shroud. I rise slowly from the recliner, closing the distance between us in a few strides. He stiffens, his posture rigid, and I can practically feel the battle waging inside him.

“I know the look of a man battling demons,” I murmur, my voice low and intimate. His eye narrows, but he doesn’t move away. My own eyes shift to the molten gold of my dragon as I keep my gaze locked on his. “My demons are the voices in my head that my father put there. Telling me no matter how hard I fight, how dangerous I become, I will be nothing other than property and a breeder.”

The words are bitter on my tongue, each one laced with the venom of past wounds. I tilt my head, feeling my scales ripple across my skin, a reminder of the beast beneath my flesh. Callan’s breath hitches, and he opens his mouth to speak, but I press a finger against his lips, silencing him.

“Demons only have power if we give it to them.” The truth of it settles like a stone between us. I reach up and slowly peel off his eyepatch, revealing the hollow socket beneath. His breath shudders, and I can see the fear lurking there, like a beast ready to tear him apart.

“Do you want to know what I see?” I ask softly, my voice barely a whisper. I wait, watching the war of emotions flicker over his features.

“I’m scared to,” he admits, his voice broken and fragile in a way that makes something inside me ache. This man, so powerful and sure, brought to hisknees by his own pain.

“I see a male who has forgotten that he’s brilliant.” I breathe, leaning in so close I can feel the warmth of his skin. “So brilliant that he was given control of an entire campus full of hot-headed, egotistical students with god complexes.”

He flinches, but I don’t let him look away. “You’re my mate,” I say, putting all the force I can muster behind those three words. “I am not meant for a weak or broken male.” His chin jerks in protest, but I grip it firmly, refusing to let him retreat.

“Do you know what that means?” I murmur, our breaths mingling. “You are not weak or broken, not to me.” I close the last inch between us and press my lips to his, pouring every ounce of reassurance I have into the kiss. He tastes like regret and fire and everything I want to save.

When I pull back, his gaze is glassy with unshed tears. I don’t give him time to respond—I turn on my heel and head for the door, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum.

“Pack or don’t pack,” I say, my voice steady even as my emotions churn beneath the surface. “There’s a room waiting for you in my suite at Malivore.” I don’t look back as I leave, the door closing behind me with a finality that makes my chest tighten. There’s no turning back now. Not for either of us.

Within the Malivore suite.

The suite is enormous, its sheer size almost intimidating. There are six individual bedrooms branching off the main space, each one morelavish than the last. A cozy common sitting room sits at the heart of it all, inviting yet somehow too quiet. A seventh room, a dedicated bathing chamber, promises the comfort of a hot soak, but it’s not what holds my attention. My eyes are locked on the central fire pit, where flames dance and crackle softly, their shadows flickering against the polished stone walls.

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