Page 7 of Trial of the Cursed Egg

The minute I slip through, the tugging stops. I still myself, heart pounding in my chest. Whatever waits ahead, I’m ready.

The roar of the crowd hits me like a wave, shaking the platform beneath my feet as I step up, pulling my hood lower to shield my eyes from the glaring lights. The noise rolls over me, a mixture of pride and unease settling in my chest. My gaze sweeps the faces, all alight with excitement, before locking on Balor. He stands tall, his smile wide, but there’s something in his eyes—a flicker of respect, but also caution.

He dips his head in acknowledgment, and I lower mine, mirroring the gesture before pressing my fist over my heart. A silent vow of thanks to him, and to everyone who has stood before me. My pulse thrums in my ears, but I keep my face neutral. There’s no room for anything less.

“For the first time in over a hundred years, a female has conquered the gauntlet. Flawless victory.” Balor’s voice booms over the crowd, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. A wave of pride sweeps through the gathering, but beneath it, I can feel the tension—a lingering uncertainty that hasn’t quite been shaken. I’m not done yet. None of us are.

Balor steps closer, his hand brushing my elbow. I tense instinctively but allow the touch, following him as he steers me toward the edge of the platform. His voice drops low, for my ears only. “There will be a dinner in your honor later. Use your training to determine what is or isn’t safe. The assessment isn’t over until tomorrow morning.”

He presses something cold and smooth into my palm—a vial of milky fluid. I glance down, knowing exactly what it is. Psychic attacks. It’s not paranoia when you’ve been trained to expect the worst. My fingers curl around it, and I slip the vial into the hidden pocket in my leathers, nodding silently in understanding.

Balor gestures toward the stairs at the far right, the shadows swallowing the path ahead. My pulse quickens. The cheers still echo behind me, but they’ve grown distant, muted. The actual test begins now. I descend the steps, each one feeling heavier than the last, my senses sharp as I scan the edges of the room.

Cora will be waiting, and Addy … I hope she’s awake. But as I slip into the shadows, I know better than to let my guard down.

Abraxis

It’s beenhours since the start of the gauntlet, and the death toll keeps rising. Each body bag adds another bitter weight to the pit of my stomach. What are these parents doing—sending their progeny into this without the proper training? There are more casualties this year than the last two runs combined, and that can only mean one thing: the gauntlet has changed. Balor’s been tight-lipped about it, too afraid I’d warn my mate. And he’s right. I would have. Hell, I’d probably jump in myself, running at her side if it meant keeping her safe.

“Brax…” My sister’s voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp as a blade. I feel a sinking sensation in my gut. Busted.

“Good morning to you too, Cora,” I grumble, glancing in the general direction she came from. My gaze locks onto my mate, sitting on the stone wall, her eyes locked on the gauntlet. She’s studying it, trying to glean whatever she can before her turn. My chest tightens just seeing her so close to that hell.

“If I didn’t know better…” Cora starts, but I quickly cover her mouth, pulling her aside before she says too much.

“Keep your suspicions to yourself,” I say sternly, feeling the weight of her gaze. She’s always been perceptive, too perceptive.

“The blanket with your scent, your favorite knives…” She trails off, letting the implications hang in the air before going for the kill. “She told me what happened when she arrived. Either she’s your betrothed or your mate. Or both.”

I clench my jaw, looking away. I don’t want to talk about it, especially not now. Not with the gauntlet looming like a vulture overhead.

“Well, that explains why I’m in there,” Cora says, leaning closer. “The gem dragon isn’t strong enough to keep her safe.”

“Exactly.” I motion toward the gauntlet as a crumpled figure catches my eye—Addy, sprawled on a stretcher, a Tallia bite marking her body. She didn’t stand a chance.

“If I keep your secret, will you tell me who my betrothed is?” Cora asks, tilting her head like she’s got me in checkmate.

“Fine. Yes.” She beams, bouncing up to kiss my cheek just as her number is called. My stomach tightens, watching Balor standing at the entrance with another instructor. Cora steps up, and I hold my breath, hoping—praying—she’ll make it through.

She doesn’t.

Cora makes it fifty percent of the way before the floor breaks beneath her, swallowing her whole. I shake my head, trying not to let the failure settle in, but it lingers like smoke. I move closer to Ziggy, readying myself for Mina’s turn. When her number is called, my heart practically stops.

She’s standing next to Balor, dressed in leathers that cling to her in all the right but wrong ways—horns wrapped tight, ready for battle. She’s all business. My chest tightens as I watch Balor say something to her, her body stiffening before she pulls her hood down, vanishing into the gauntlet.

And then I lose it.

Before I can stop myself, I’m moving toward the far side of the arena, my eyes locked on the lights, mapping her progress. The gauntlet comes alive, traps springing to life, and I feel a cold rush of panic.

“Magic isn’t allowed!” I roar at the elders, my voice shaking the arena.

“It’s triggered by how far she’s gotten,” Lysander, our headmaster, says with infuriating calm.

I push past him, eyes fixed on the exit. I stand at the edge of the bleachers, watching, waiting. The tether of our fragile mate bond pulses faintly in my chest. I reach for it, tugging softly. For a moment, nothing. ThenI feel her pull back.

Thank the gods. She’s following it.

I watch her claw her way out of the gauntlet, widening the narrow exit to fit her frame. Her silver talons slice through the wood with brutal efficiency, the sound sharp but brief, the wood yielding to her as though it feared her touch. When she finally steps out onto the platform, she moves with a deadly grace, landing without a sound. Balor is already there, his voice ringing out to declare her flawless victory, his gaze steady as if he expected nothing less.

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