Page 63 of Trial of the Cursed Egg

Just my luck. This class replaces not one, but two of my core classes—Science and Lit, all for the fourth quarter, just like that. Now I’m stuck with it on Mondays, twice as long as any other class. By the time we head outside for the second half, I’ve already sent Balor to call Abraxis. If I’m going to be handing over the egg for any reason, he’s going to be here for that.

The moment Abraxis steps into view, armored from shoulder to boot with his sword hanging at his hip, the class falls silent. My mate—the war hero, the king’s general—never goes unnoticed. His sheer presence sends a ripple through the group, and everyone shrinks back, which makes me smile up at him. He returns the look, his voice low, and growling, hinting at some simmering frustration. “What do you need of me, mate?”

“Just to hold Klauth’s egg,” I reply, already reaching for the straps of the carrier. “We need to shift so the teacher can assess our dragons.” As I unbuckle it, Abraxis’s mouth quirks into a quiet, dark chuckle.

“Your dragoness is going to dwarf every one of theirs, love,” he murmurs, a wicked gleam lighting his eyes. “They might all just flee—even the teacher.” His grin is sharp, a hint of the battle-hardened terror he is on the field, the one who revels in the chaos others unwittingly unleash around him.

I slip him the straps of the carrier, and he cradles it in one arm as if it were nothing, a smirk on his lips as he motions for me to head toward the field.

“General?” Zadi, the instructor, calls out, hesitation edging her voice. “Where is your mate going?”

A shadow of impatience flickers over Abraxis’s face as he answers, condescending and cold, “You don’t want her shifting near the others. Especially with the egg in tow. You, of all people, should know better, Zadi.” His tone cuts, sharp and dismissive, and I can’t help the smirk tugging at my own lips.Score one for my mate.

When I am far enough from the others, I shift, letting my dragoness stretch free. My mother’s iron dragon is clearly the dominant bloodline in my form, gifting me her size and the armored resilience of her scales. They shimmer, an iridescent emerald green that catches thelight and flickers depending on the angle. My frill fans out, a striking emerald color with silver spines supporting it, and my tall silver horns extend high above my head, towering over the frill itself. I stretch my wings wide, feeling every tendon loosen as I savor the release, then turn to look down at my mate Abraxis.

He steps back a few steps, chuckling as he takes in my full dragonic form. When I lower my head to meet him, he reaches up, patting the scales on my maw with a grin. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, admiration shining in his gaze as he inspects me. “I think your scales are even thicker, my love.” He taps the pommel of his sword against one of them, the sound resonating like metal against metal. “You took after your mother more than we suspected.” His words make a pleased rumble escape my chest, his approval warming me.

Our instructor clears her throat. “Alright, class … We need to dig…” She glances over her shoulder at me, her gaze flicking down to the considerable size of my talons. “The smaller dragons need to dig,” she adds, darting nervous glances at me and the other dragonesses.

Before she can say anything further, I shift back to my human form, retrieving my egg from Abraxis. “Yet another pointless core class,” I huff, surveying the field as the smaller dragonesses begin their assigned task.

After that torturous two-hour class, Abraxis pulls me from Royal Protocol and brings me back to Shadowcarve. “You’re agitated today. It’s setting my dragon off—what’s wrong?” He pulls me against his side as we walk, his warmth soothing, and I wrap my arm around his waist, taking a deep breath.

Huffing out a sigh, I look anywhere but at him; the tension boiling under my skin. “My yearly is coming…” I practically snarl, hating how it makes me feel, how it claws at me from the inside out.

He makes a thoughtful noise, the hum deep and resonant. “I thought I noticed the start of the color change on your cheek scales.” His gaze falls to the egg, cradled carefully against me, and he tilts his head slightly. “Doesn’t having an egg usually stop it?” His lips brush my temple as we clear the wooden gates of Shadowcarve, his presence steady beside me.

I stop dead, staring down at the egg in the carrier, my heart pounding in sync with its pulsing glow. “It’s not a real egg. It’s a prison.” My voice drops to a whisper. “If what I’ve seen is true … he’s meant to be mine.” I draw in a shuddering breath, feeling something indescribable stir within me. “I feel the thread … the start of a tether to him. Kind of like what you formed with me before my birthday.” I search Abraxis’s amber gaze, hoping for some sense of reassurance or clarity.

“We had a feeling he was yours,” Callan’s voice cuts in from behind, his tone laced with a certainty that both grounds and unsettles me.

Nodding slowly, I let his words settle, my gaze returning to the egg, its faint pulsing keeping time with my heartbeat. “He’s going to hatch. I’m just … not sure when. I haven’t been able to see that yet.”

“During the break, we need to set your mother’s nest up to be yours. We’ll need a place away from campus for him to hatch—somewhere he’ll feel safe and isolated enough that, if he goes on a rampage…” Abraxis trails off, his words heavy with caution.

“How do they hatch?” I turn to Callan, even though I already know. “As man or beast?”

Abraxis answers for him, his tone low. “They were lost to their dragons, so … as their shift. He’ll be dangerous and destructive. There’s a thousand years of rage stored up in him.”

I nod, my gaze lingering on the carrier before I move further onto the campus. My eyes catch Vaughn training with Ziggy, his focus intense, working on his agility. I watch the muscles in his exposed back as they flex and shift, raw strength coiling beneath his skin.

My mates head off to tend to their own tasks, leaving me a moment of peace. Leander approaches, holding my bow with a familiar glint in his eyes. “Figured you might want to clear your mind after the last few days,” he says, a hint of a smile touching his lips.

I manage a laugh, though it comes out a little strained. “Yeah, that’s an understatement.” I lift the bow case and gesture toward the targets. “Think you can handle the controls? I need to work on speed and accuracy.”

Leander nods, a slight frown of concentration on his face. “Callan’s usually better at this, but I’ll give it my best shot.” He heads over to the controls, and I turn my focus back to the task at hand, letting the familiar rhythm of my bow steady my nerves.

I set the bow case down, unzipping it with a practiced motion, and assemble my bow piece by piece. With it strung and ready, I take the egg carrier off and carefully place it in the center of the foam. “Iris,” I call softly, and a moment later, she lands with graceful precision on the case. She coils herself protectively around the egg carrier, settling a wing over it like a shield, her eyes half-lidded but watchful.

Every breath feels like fire coursing through my veins. My yearly is approaching, and this time, it won’t be pretty. Unlike the mammals, I don’t experience heat in the same way.Dragonesses like me?We become dangerous, volatile. Breeding age means choice most of theyear, but the cycle—oh, it doesn’t care about consent. It pushes us to hunt down a mate, and Callan? He’s going to be at risk around me. My dragoness would see him as smaller, softer prey, and if she takes over … she could accidentally kill him. She’s lethal like that.

I draw back the first arrow as the target rises, every muscle focused, every sinew stretched. Smoothly, I release, and the arrow flies true, striking dead center. The whirl and clack of the mechanisms signal me to nock another arrow and fire. Each impact settles something within me, but not enough. The burn under my skin is a reminder—I don’t have much time left before I’ll be a danger to everyone around me.

Life was so much simpler before my dragon surfaced. Dad would run me through the gauntlet, pushing me to exhaustion until every shred of rage burned out in a safe environment. But that will not work now. I have two bonded mates—and a third I haven’t accepted yet. Only one of them stands a chance of matching me if it comes to that. All I can do is hope the worst of it hits during the break.

Abraxis

I pressthe phone harder to my ear, hoping the static I hear drowns out the unease gnawing at me. My mom’s tone is clinical yet sympathetic, each word a reminder of just how unprepared I am. Hearing her describe Mina’s yearly cycle, I realize I’d rather face a thousand enemies on the battlefield than this. Every word hits like a gut punch, the reality settling heavy in my chest. Then Dad’s voice cuts in, and it’s like a lead weight.

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