Page 35 of Trial of the Cursed Egg

Her voice is too sweet, too poised, and I know exactly what’s running through her mind. If she hatches one of those cursed eggs, the first place she’ll unleash its fury will be on her father’s nest. The thought sends a thrill of anticipation through me. A dragon unleashed—uncontrollable, vengeful—burning everything in its path. And I’ll be right there beside her.

“There are seven cursed eggs, one for each of the mortal sins,” my father begins, his voice low and reverent as if even speaking of them could bring ruin upon us. The room seems to darken, the very air growing heavy under the weight of his words. He stands by the long, polished table, its surface gleaming under the flickering candlelight. His hand hovers over an ancient tome bound in faded leather, its spine cracked and fraying at the edges, whispering of countless years and untold secrets. He opens the book with a gentle yet deliberate touch, revealing yellowed pages filled with intricate symbols and haunting sketches of the eggs and the dragons within.

Mina leans forward, her posture betraying a subtle tension. Her head tilts, one eyebrow arching high as a predatory smile curves across her lips. “War machines, you say...” Her voice is a purr of interest, yet her gaze is cold, calculating. She reaches out, her fingers brushing the tome’s brittle paper as she spins it towards herself. The faint rasp of skin against parchment sounds unnaturally loud in the silence.

My father nods grimly, his eyes never leaving the book as he flips to the page detailing the origins of the red, orange, and black dragons. “They were once like us,” he murmurs, his gaze distant, as if lost in the horror of his own memories. “Like us, but driven mad, twisted by their greed, pride, and wrath until they were no longer dragons, but weapons. Sentient beasts bound to chaos and destruction, lost to their beasts for all eternity.”

He gestures to the rough, charcoal sketch of the red egg—its surface marred with cracks and scars, as if struggling to contain the violence simmering within. “The red, orange, and black dragons … They are war machines. They will fight until there is nothing left but ash and ruin.” His voice softens, almost a whisper now. “No one has been chosen by the red in over a thousand years. It respects power above all else. Most who stand before it are not even worth a flicker of its interest. But those who are…” He trails off, a shadow of fear—or perhaps awe—flitting across his face.

Mina’s eyes glitter dangerously, the light catching the deep amber flecks in her irises as she skims the pages. “And the others?” she asks, the words casual, but there’s something else lurking beneath her tone. Anticipation. Hunger.

My father’s lips press into a thin line. He moves to her side, leaning over to turn another page with a feather-light touch, careful not to damage the fragile manuscript. The page reveals a faded diagram of a stone slab surrounded by runes and symbols etched into its surface. “The eggs will sense your presence the moment you enter the chamber. You must stand on this slab. The egg that chooses you will glow. That is the only egg you can touch and take with you. Any other … and the results will be fatal.”

I watch silently from the corner of the room, my chest tightening with a mixture of dread and dark hope. None of the eggs glowed for me when I entered the chamber. The memory of that cold, suffocating silence still gnaws at the edges of my mind. I wasn’t even worth a glance from the cursed creatures slumbering within those shells. But Mina … I feel a shiver run down my spine as I imagine her standing on that slab, the oppressive silence broken by the sudden flare of light from any of the eggs.

Part of me—darker and far more dangerous, wants to see her succeed. To see her chosen by one of the beasts, to watch her contain the beasts and send them to do her bidding..

My father’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “The red egg devours the weak and unworthy. Even touching it is a death sentence for most,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to me before returning to Mina. “But you, Mina … you might be different.”

Mina’s smile widens, sharp as a blade, and she meets my father’s gaze without flinching. “I’ve always been different,” she replies softly, her voice threaded with confidence that borders on arrogance. She straightens, rolling her shoulders as if preparing for battle. “I’ll take my chances.”

A chill settles in my gut as I picture the scene unfolding—the red or black dragon’s egg flaring to life, its glow casting monstrous shadows against the chamber walls. Mina, standing alone on that slab, bathed in light, her face twisted in pain or ecstasy, the line between madness and power blurred beyond recognition.

Mina

Two weeks later…

This morning starts off differently from all the others. There’s a certain charge in the air, like the tense calm before a thunderstorm, and my blood sings to me in a way it hasn’t for days. My dragoness stirs awake, purring softly, her presence coiled and ready beneath my skin. She’s been restless, but today … today, she’s satisfied. I glance around the room and frown when I notice Abraxis’s absence. He and his father’s men have been patrolling the borders since our arrival.

Since the first attack, only two more have happened, both meeting my father’s forces head-on. My father’s relentless assaults are growing bolder. The edges of his cruelty cut sharper against the landscape every day. I bite back a growl, suppressing the familiar surge of rage. It simmers beneath the surface but doesn’t overwhelm me like it used to. The council’s temporary reprieve is more of a bandage than a solution. They’ve warned him to cease his machinations or face their combined wrath. I know him well enough to predict it won’t be long before he tests their patience.

But despite the storm brewing beyond these walls, I’m not as angry today. There’s a calmness I haven’t felt in ages, a deep-seated tranquility like a cool breeze over scorching embers. I let the feeling wash over me, wondering if it has to do with the fact that, for once, I’m not fighting this battle alone. I have a mate who loves and respects me—a mate who has never pressured me to complete the bond, even though he could have. He’s always said it would be on my terms. He’s always put my choice first.

That realization sends a shiver of warmth through me, and a small smile tugs at my lips.My choice.

I stand, a ripple of excitement bubbling up from within. Reaching into the closet, my fingers graze over the velvety fabric of one of my black gowns. Abraxis loves these—he’s always said the sight of me in them drives him wild. Today, I think, I want to drive him absolutely mad. I slide the gown over my head and let it cling to my curves like liquid midnight. The fabric shimmers softly in the light, and my bare feet make no sound as I pad through the halls, silent as death itself.

The castle is hushed around me, the only sound the faint crackle of torches and the distant murmur of voices. My senses are sharp, attuned to the hum of the bond as I make my way toward the war room. The energy between us pulls tighter, the invisible tether growing stronger with every step. The double doors loom ahead, heavy and imposing, but I press them open with the barest nudge of strength.

The room is filled with the low buzz of conversation. Abraxis is standing by the diorama of the region, surrounded by his father and several commanders. They’re deep in discussion, unaware of my presence. Vox is the first to notice me, his head lifting sharply. His eyes flare a brilliant, molten gold as he takes in my appearance. I offer him a smile—sharp, feral, and full of intent. My canines descend slowly,glinting in the torchlight. Vox’s gaze flickers between me and his son, and I know he understands immediately:I’ve finally come for Abraxis.

I slip through the gathered men like a shadow, weaving around them until I’m under Abraxis’s arm. He’s so focused on his conversation that he doesn’t register my presence at first. Absently, he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead mid-sentence. The warmth of his lips lingers, and I inhale his scent, rich and intoxicating.

He doesn’t see it coming—the moment his throat is exposed; I strike. My canines sink into the soft, tender flesh over my original mark. He jerks, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. His knees buckle, and a shudder courses through his powerful frame. Blood, hot and coppery, floods my mouth as I reinforce our bond with a single bite.

The reaction is immediate. His entire body tenses against me, then slackens as if his bones have turned to liquid. I feel his dragon rear up, clawing at the surface, desperate and possessive. He’s mine, and every part of him remembers it now. A wild thrill surges through me, and I let out a breathless, triumphant laugh before I whirl away and take off running.

The hallways blur around me as I sprint back to our room on the third floor, the pounding of Abraxis’s boots reverberating through the wooden floorboards. He’s on my heels, the heat of his pursuit sending a thrill racing down my spine. The bond between us thrums like a live wire, crackling with energy. His growl echoes through the corridor, low and dangerous, promising retribution.

I burst through the door of our room and barely make it three steps before he tackles me to the bed. The breath leaves my lungs in a rush as he pins me down, his broad frame caging me in. His eyes, a searing, molten gold, bore into mine with a mix of hunger and something deeper—something primal and possessive. His hands areeverywhere, running over my shoulders, down my sides, branding me with his touch.

“Are you sure?” he rasps, voice thick with need. His breath is hot against my ear, and I can feel the solid length of him pressed against my thigh, hard and demanding.

I smile up at him, eyes gleaming with mischief and certainty. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He shudders, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. I can feel the control fraying at the edges of his restraint, the fierce, raw need barely held in check. His grip tightens, and his mouth crashes down on mine. I kiss him back with everything I have, with the fire and intensity of a flame finally given fuel.

I’ve set my mate in motion, and he doesn’t hesitate. His fingers shift, the nails elongating into wicked talons that slice through the fabric of my dress like it’s nothing but air. Ribbons of fabric flutter around us, a blur of color and shredded silk, until I’m laying bare before him. His gaze roams over my body, possessive and hungry, making my skin prickle with anticipation. My hands come up to work on the buckles of his leathers, but he rips them away himself, the sound of tearing fabric punctuating the air before his wings unfurl, caging me in.

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