Page 62 of Trial of the Cursed Egg

Nigel nods, reaching for the painting, propping it against a tree. “She painted his human side from memory. But there are several things wrong with the painting.” He angles the image toward me, and I step closer, taking in the details he’s pointed out. “His wings … they have scars here. In reality, he doesn’t have any scars. And there’s another thing—he doesn’t have any tattoos. We can’t be tattooed.” His voice is calm, but I can see the slight tension in his gaze, the way he’s assessing every brushstroke.

I lean in, studying it again, feeling a strange pull as I absorb the image. It’s almost too perfect, and something about it feels … wrong. Or maybe right, depending on how you look at it. “This must be a vision from the future,” I whisper to myself, a knot of uncertainty forming in my gut. The real question is,how far into the future are we looking?

The walk back to Shadowcarve is uneventful, thankfully. That is until I see everyone gathering around the gauntlet. Mina is sitting on top of it looking down at everyone, kicking her legs. “It’s not that hard. I just ran it.” Mina taunts from on the peak of the gauntlet.

“You’re the exception, not the rule!” I yell at Mina as she stands up and walks across the top of the gauntlet like it’s nothing.

I watch her slide down the gauntlet wall with sharp precision, talons digging in just enough to slow her descent before she lands effortlessly in front of me. She steps close, right into my personal space, her gaze piercing as she looks up. “Something is coming … I need a strong nest to support me in battle. You…” Her grip on my jaw is firm, almost possessive, as she smiles. “You can analyze data and formations as fast as Leander. That skill is vital for defense.” Her eyes flicker briefly to Vaughn, then back to me. “He has brute strength and durability, but does he have cunning? The gauntlet will answer that.” She’s always strategic, always logical, like she’s balancing the nest with perfect precision. She nods toward Abraxis and Klauth, her brow arching with a look that tells me they’re her firepower, her air support. Then, she turns, crossing to Ziggy before disappearing into the shadows of the courtyard.

I arch a brow and glance over at Abraxis, who’s watching her retreat, his expression shadowed with thought. He gestures toward the upper offices. Mina stands in the window, watching the courtyard with an intensity that feels both analytical and deeply unsettling. “Sometimes, it feels like she’s looking at a giant chessboard, moving us like pieces,” I murmur, half to myself.

Abraxis’s response is a low growl, his dragon’s eyes momentarily overtaking his human ones. “There’s been movement on the northern borders. Mina saw it last night. I sent a recon team, and she was right. Someone or something is coming, and altruism isn’t what’s motivating them.” His gaze shifts to the gauntlet, where Vaughn steps onto the platform, nodding briefly to Balor before preparing himself to run.

“Think he’ll make it?” I ask, my gaze shifting to Abraxis, who’s as stony as ever.

He gives a slight shrug, his wings flexing behind him in a restless flick. “Given his size and considering the issues I had with it myself, he’ll have to be smart. Otherwise, he won’t survive it.” Abraxis’s wings made the gauntlet a brutal challenge for him back in the day, the added size and weight a disadvantage in the tight turns and sudden drop-offs.

“Why is someone running the gauntlet?” Lysander’s voice cuts in as he joins us, his gaze tracking Vaughn’s progress as lights flicker to life across the gauntlet’s sections.

“Potential mate of Mina’s,” I answer, my tone casual, though the stakes are anything but. “She wants him to prove himself.”

“She didn’t make you two run it.” Lysander’s brows furrow as he scans the courtyard. “Speaking of Mina, where is she?”

Abraxis gestures over his shoulder, pointing to the offices where Mina stands with Ziggy at her side, her expression intense as she watches the scene below. “Safe,” Abraxis grunts, his tone heavier than usual. There’s something in his eyes, something simmering under his usual calm, but he’s been like this lately—tense, like he’s bracing for something none of us sees coming.

Mina

It’s beenthree days since Vaughn ran the gauntlet and passed. His time wasn’t the fastest, but he made it out alive. I guess that’s the important part, isn’t it? Last night was the first time I actually slept without visions tearing through my mind. Maybe I was finally tired enough that my body just shut down.

This morning Balor walks beside me as we head to class, his steps steady while mine feel clumsy. My mind is everywhere but here. “Mina, talk to me...” he murmurs, stopping to block my path. I blink up at him, his gaze steady on me.

I sigh, lowering my eyes. “Sorry, it’s just... everything’s been too much. I feel like my brain’s turned to mush.” My fingers unconsciously tighten around the egg carrier strapped to my chest.

Balor’s gloved hand lifts, his index finger nudging my chin up to face him. “I’m here if you need to talk. It’s not easy being what we are. We’re feared. You, because of your green dragon blood, and me... well,being a basilisk has its own baggage.” His voice is low, softer than usual. There’s a vulnerability in his tone that quickens my pulse.

I study him closer, catching sight of a faint scar that runs from the inside of his left brow, across the bridge of his nose, and down his cheek to his jaw. It’s mesmerizing, a reminder of whatever battles he’s fought to stand here now.

“Please don’t look at me like that, Mina.” His voice is strained, as if hiding something beneath it, a flicker of pain. His bright amber eyes shift, revealing those serpentine slits I only catch glimpses of.

“Careful,” I smirk, tilting my head, “your basilisk is showing.” I hold his gaze, feeling the weight of it. “Guess I’m immune to your stone gaze.” I let the moment linger, the intensity between us unspoken, before turning away.

With a sigh, I keep walking toward our so-called “nest-making” class. A new dragoness is supposed to teach it, and I’m less than thrilled.

I slide into my seat in the shadowed upper corner, tucking myself far away from the chattering energy of the other females, their excitement like nails scraping on glass. Balor’s quiet, looming presence against the back wall brings a slight comfort as he settles into his watchful stance. As the door opens, the teacher strides in—a young woman with amethyst hair, her aura faint but a glimmer of energy runs beneath her skin.

“Welcome, everyone!” she chirps, sweeping to the board and writing her name and species:Amethyst Dragon. I have to bite back a laugh. A gem dragon—a weak line at that—teaching me about nests and dragon skills? My lip curls.

“Let’s do roll call,” she announces, scanning the room. Her eyes fall on me, widening as she spots the egg strapped to my chest. Herfinger points like I’m a contagion. “You can’t bring your egg to class.”

My lips pull into a dangerous smile. I slide the egg from its protective cover, letting it catch the light—a deep blood-red, pulsing with life, silver swirls glinting like sharpened steel. “This is the red cursed egg, and it goes wherever I go.”

The teacher’s gaze locks on the egg, her face paling. Her nerves almost amuse me as I pull my hair free from my hood, letting the green and silver waves spill down my back. I raise a brow, the challenge clear. “Should I call one of my mates to join me instead? I’m sure Abraxis would love to sit in.”

“Oh, no, no … it’s fine,” she stammers, hands raised, scrambling to avoid whatever threat she’s conjured up in her head. “The egg can stay—sorry for the misunderstanding.” She turns back to the board, resuming her lecture with a nervous glance my way.

Balor’s hiss comes low and close to my ear, his amusement unmistakable. “You love flexing when someone challenges you…”

A small smile curls at the edge of my mouth. “Only when they deserve it.”

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