Page 49 of Trial of the Cursed Egg

Cora’s eyes go wide. “Oh shit. It’s the red egg.” She takes a step back, her gaze bouncing between me, her brother, and then locking onto Callan. “Wait, what are you doing here?” The question lands like a slap, making him flinch.

“He’s my mate, too.” My voice wavers, the raw truth of it clawing at me. Callan stiffens, his gaze darkening as if he’s bracing for something. Cora’s eyes widen, but she says nothing.

“Really?” Her disbelief is almost tangible, making Callan straighten. He takes a step closer, his movements deliberate, controlled.

“Yes, I am,” he replies firmly, the words ringing with a quiet intensity that makes my heart squeeze.

“Then act like it.” The growl slips out before I can stop it, anger bubbling up from the depths of my frustration. I can’t look at him, can’t bear the raw vulnerability in his eye, so I turn away, storming to the little kitchenette in a futile attempt to collect myself. I clench the counter until my knuckles ache, the heat from the egg carrierwarming me from the inside out. A soft hum vibrates against my chest, offering comfort I don’t deserve.

“How long has it been doing that?” Callan’s voice is closer than I expect, low and hesitant as he peers over my shoulder, eyes fixed on the egg.

“Since he chose me.” I barely get the words out. Turning to face him feels like tearing open an old wound, but I do it anyway. His gaze drops to the egg before lifting slowly back to me.

He moves cautiously, one hand coming up to cup my cheek as if I might break. His touch is cool and steady, grounding me. His eye searches my face like he’s looking for answers I’m not sure I can give. Then, his free arm slips around my waist, pulling me flush against him. The kiss that follows is soft, tentative, and I freeze, the unexpected contact short-circuiting my brain.

It takes several heartbeats before I remember how to breathe, before my arms slide around his neck, and I kiss him back. His fingers tighten in my hair, a quiet desperation thrumming through the bond as it flickers to life, sparking and crackling like it’s fighting to reignite. My dragoness rumbles deep in my chest, pleased by the touch, by the closeness. I can almost feel the bond knitting itself back together, thread by fragile thread.

The second set of hands brushing against my ribs is delicate, almost phantom-like, yet there’s no mistaking Abraxis’s touch. His body presses flush against my back, his breath hot against my ear as his fingers work, deftly unstrapping the egg carrier. I shiver, anticipation coursing through me as his lips skim the side of my neck.

“I’ll watch the egg,” he whispers, voice low and thick, before his heat pulls away, leaving me achingly aware of his absence.

I barely have time to mourn the loss of his touch before Callan steps in, his presence immediately filling the space. His kiss is searing, demanding, and I let myself fall into it, gripping his shoulders as he lifts me effortlessly. The cool countertop contrasts sharply against my heated skin when he sets me down, his hands gripping my hips tightly. My fingers thread through his honey-brown hair, tugging lightly. Something shifts in him. His body tenses, his grip tightening, and then he’s hauling me up, forcing my legs around his waist in a way that makes me gasp.

One hand leaves my ass, and I hear the click of a door opening. I break the kiss, panting as I look around. We’re in his room now, the scent of cedar and him wrapping around me. The door swings shut behind us with a soft thud, the lock clicking into place with an audible finality. Callan’s eye is molten as he guides us up onto the bed, his weight settling between my legs, pressing me into the mattress. His hands, large and warm, explore my body as though he’s learning it anew.

There’s a flicker deep inside, the bond sparking as if struggling to catch fire after being dormant for too long. The minute he pulls back, I’m already scrambling to get my clothes off, tossing them to the floor in a frenzy. The tension in the air thickens as I reach for his shirt, yanking it over his head, desperate to feel his skin against mine.

“I don’t have protection,” he murmurs, voice strained. “I wasn’t expecting…”

“I have the implant,” I interrupt, my hands moving to his pants. “We’re good for five years.”

“Good to know,” he replies, a wicked smile spreading across his face. He rises just enough to shove his pants down, and I follow suit, peeling off my leggings and underwear in one swift motion. His gaze lingers on me, taking in the faint line of scales under my breasts, theones that curve around my hips like a lover’s caress. There’s no hesitation as he slides back in, positioning himself between my legs, his heat a tangible thing.

With a shift of his hips, he rolls us over, placing me on top of him. His hands slide over my skin reverently, thumbs brushing my hardened nipples. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice laced with awe. He cups the back of my neck, pulling me down for a kiss that steals the air from my lungs. One hand drifts lower, his grip on my hip tightening, urging me to take him in.

I wiggle my hips, aligning him with my entrance without using my hands. The intimacy of the motion sends a thrill through me. “Last chance to back out, Cal,” I breathe, lifting myself up just enough to meet his gaze.

“Never…” His reply is a growl, low and dangerous, his hands sliding to my hips before pushing me down onto his length in one smooth motion.

A sharp gasp tears from my throat at the unexpected fullness. I barely have a moment to adjust before he’s thrusting up, meeting me with a rhythm that sends fire racing through my veins. He holds me firmly, his strength guiding me as I move, chasing the friction that builds and builds, a tantalizing coil tightening in my core.

But something nags at the back of my mind. I need to mark him, claim him as mine, yet I have no idea how gryphons do it. My gaze darts over his skin, searching. The coil inside me snaps, and I shift the angle, my breath hitching as pleasure crashes over me. Instinct takes over. I lean down and bite into his shoulder, my teeth sinking into his flesh just as my climax shatters through me.

The warm, coppery taste of his blood fills my mouth, a metallic tang that sends another pulse of pleasure through me. I grind down, myhips moving of their own accord as I ride out the aftershocks, but then—pain lances through me, sharp and burning. Claws rake down my side, and I freeze, gasping as the sting burns in the best and worst way.

He cries out beneath me, his cock pulsing deep within as he loses himself, his thrusts erratic and desperate. He buries his face against my neck, his body trembling as he clutches me close, holding on as if I’m the only thing anchoring him. His climax stretches on, each pulse sending another wave of heat through me until, finally, he stills, his breath ragged against my skin.

Slowly, he pulls me down, pressing kisses along the column of my throat. The bond between us is alive, thrumming with new energy. It’s not as strong as the one with Abraxis, but it’s no longer a dying ember. It’s a flame, small but fierce, growing stronger with every breath we take together.

We hold on to each other tightly, my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. I feel his body go lax and I rise up onto my elbow, looking at him. My eyes roam over him, studying every inch of him. It’s now I note I clawed him up too. Unlike Abraxis, his skin isn’t as resilient and apparently takes damage easily. I look at my right side and see the marks from his talons. Four perfectly spaced lines adorn my ribs and are already healing. Small silver scales seem to grow where the damaged skin is. Apparently, it’s my dragon’s way of protecting the bond mark.

I lay back down and rest my head on his shoulder again. Tomorrow will be better. At least now I’m not afraid of the bond fracturing. Sleep tonight, for once takes me quickly.

Abraxis

I can feelthe moment their bond snaps into place like a taut wire being drawn tight. Callan’s tether is faint, like a low, inconsistent hum, as unreliable as the male himself. My teeth grind as irritation creeps under my skin. If he makes her cry again, I might have to break Mina’s number one rule of not hitting a nest mate.

My eyes drift down to the egg carrier strapped across my chest. It feels more like a lead weight, a heavy, suffocating burden instead of the precious living entity it should be. The carrier is cold and lifeless, lacking the warmth and hum it seems to hold whenever Mina wears it. I slip the button loose, lifting the flap just enough to peek inside. The shell is dull, a dried blood color marred with unpolished silver swirls that should shimmer but don’t. A knot tightens in my gut.

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