Page 10 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
My grip tightens around Thauglor’s egg, hugging it protectively against my chest. “He’s mine until he decides I am unworthy.” The timber of my dragoness resonates through my vocal cords, making my words thrash with warning. Tension thickens, a palpable weight pressing against everyone in the room. Even some of my bonded mates shrink back, pressing themselves to the walls. My heartbeat pulses through my veins, feeding that savage edge in my voice. “I suggest you leave, Headmaster. I am hungry and agitated. We wouldn’t want an accident … like with the spiders in the gauntlet.” I finish on a low growl, shifting my gaze between him and the elders clustered behind him.
They blanch at my not-so-subtle threat, faces losing color under the sickly glow of the overhead lamps. Without further protest, Lysander, and the elders exit, the dead egg resting on the pillow. I exhale shakily, trying to steady the adrenaline coursing through me. My eyes slide closed, and I coax my dragoness back, feeling her curl into the recesses of my mind. When I open my eyes again, the tension in the room has lessened. I give my mates a puzzled look, raising a brow. “Did I miss something?”
Klauth emergesfrom my room and settles beside me, the heat of his body comforting in the sudden hush. “You passed my empty egg off as my real egg,” he says. “That was tactically brilliant, my treasure.” When he presses his lips to my temple, I feel an uncanny wave of peace settle over my nerves. It’s a welcome balm. My gaze drifts to his eyes—darkening, shifting, reflecting the power beneath his calm exterior.
“Let’s eat dinner. I’m tired, and I still have the Shadowcarve gauntlet,” I say, sliding my thumb gently over his cheek before stepping away. My footsteps echo dully against the polished floor as I cross over to the kitchen island, where Leander mans the stove with a focused intensity.
“Steak, pasta, and fried zucchini with a side salad,” he announces. The air is fragrant with sizzling butter and garlic, making my stomach clench in anticipation. Leander, being the only vegetarian, usually finds it easier to cook for all of us, and a small flush colors his cheeks as I approach.
“Sounds amazing. Can I have my steak seasoned and warmed? I’m starving.” A teasing smile plays on my lips. I lean forward, resting on my forearms, gazing up at him. It’s a stance he loves—reminiscent of the times he’s taken me right here, bent over the counter. The memory tangles with the savory scent of our meal, and I hear his breath hitch. His chest lifts in a subtle show of pride.
Tension still lingers in the air like a low-hanging storm cloud, but the promise of food and the thrill of our small victory offer a shred of normalcy. I let myself savor it, if only for a moment, before the darkness of this academy closes in again.
A soft chuckle escapes Klauth’s lips as he pulls up a stool at the island, the wooden legs scraping against the tiled floor with a sharp squeal. Overhead, a single light flickers, casting long shadows across the chipped countertop and illuminating the steam rising from the untouched plates of food. “You submit to the nightmare,” he says, hislow voice reverberating in the cramped space, “but not your dragon mate.”
My throat feels tight as I catch a faint, bitter taste in the back of my mouth—fear, perhaps, or regret. I bite my bottom lip, wincing at the sharp sting of my canines against the tender flesh. Then I glance over at Callan, noting the tension in his broad shoulders and the flicker of concern behind his eyes. “The gryphon too?” Klauth muses. “Interesting turn of events.”
“They are smaller, softer than I am. Leander is prey, and in a sense, so is Callan.” Even as the words leave my mouth, there’s a deep rumble in my chest. The tight press of my heart quickens with shame. I hate talking about my mates like this. My gaze flickers to the floor, focusing on the faint pattern of scuffed linoleum. I turn my face away, not wanting to speak about it anymore; even the air feels charged, dense with unspoken truths.
“Your nest is unbalanced, mate. We need to figure out what’s wrong.” Klauth’s voice vibrates through the quiet kitchen, echoing off the walls in a low growl. It’s the same discussion Abraxis tried having with me before, the one that made me bristle and snarl. My lip curls, and the growl rumbles through me without warning—until Klauth slams me against the wall. The sudden impact sends a dull ache through my shoulders.
He presses his taloned hand around my throat, the cold bite of his claws sending prickles of alarm through my skin. His hot breath fans across my cheek. “This is serious. Dragonesses go mad when their nests are in disarray.” He snaps his teeth at me, the sound echoing in my ears. The overhead light casts flickering shadows across his features, making him look even more predatory.
I clench my jaw and turn my face away, letting out a warning snarl through bared teeth. Nearby, the soft flutter of Iris’s wings tugs at the edges of my hearing. She’s trying to land on my shoulder, but Klauth won’t let her close. “Mina…” His voice shifts when he uses my name, taking on a note of concern. Against my better judgment, I fix him with a glare.
“What is wrong?” he demands, his words coming out in a deep growl. “We can’t fix it if we don’t know what it is.” I see Balor and the others edge closer, the ring of bodies around me radiating tense heat. A faint click of nails against tile draws my attention back to Klauth. “Balor, do it…”
“Do what?” I rasp, my breath catching in my throat. My gaze darts to Balor. His dark eyes gleam in the half-light, and for a moment, sadness softens his expression.
“I’m sorry, Mina. I love you,” he murmurs, and I feel a strange pulsing sensation behind my eyes. Like a heavy blanket settling over my mind, it presses me into obedience. All the fight drains out of my muscles.
“Abraxis, you are her first mate. It would be best coming from you,” Klauth says, and Abraxis steps forward. I can feel the warmth of his body as he moves closer, filling the tight space between us with his musky scent.
“What is wrong with your nest? What can we fix to make you feel safer?” Abraxis asks. There’s a soothing purr in his voice that washes over me, but I can still taste the metallic tang of panic in my mouth.
My words spill out in disjointed fragments. “I don’t feel safe here. Buildings burn. It’s not able to be defended. We’re too low.” My lungs feel tight, and the closeness of everyone presses on me like a vise. “I will be hunted for what I am. It’s not safe here. No stone. I can’t shift in here.” My dragoness roars under my skin, bone plates shifting beneath the surface in a sickening ripple. I see Klauth’s eyes flash in warning.
“You will quiet and let your human half speak,” Klauth commands, his voice booming through the cramped apartment. I gasp, feelingmy dragoness recoil, her presence diminishing, though I can still feel her coiled tension in the back of my mind.
“Do you want your nest or to go to Abraxis’s chalet?” Balor asks, carefully enunciating each word. His gaze, reflecting in the dim overhead light, holds a sympathetic sadness.
“My nest. My place, my home … It’s not done; it’s not safe yet. Nowhere’s safe.” The moment Balor’s hold on me releases, I slump with exhaustion. A single tear drips down my cheek, burning hot as it slides over my skin. My deepest fears have been laid bare, and the vulnerability is suffocating.
“I will go in the morning to work on your nest site,” Klauth says, pressing his lips to my temple in a surprisingly gentle gesture. His breath warms my skin. “I agree this place isn’t able to be defended well. We will make a safe place for you, mate.” With that, he strides out of the apartment. His heavy footsteps echo down the hallway, and the chill draft from the open door sends a shiver through me.
“Where’s he going?” Abraxis asks, gathering me into his arms. The steady beat of his heart thumps against my ear, strangely comforting in the stillness.
“He’s starting on my nest.” My voice hitches. I close my eyes, inhaling Abraxis’s scent—smoke and steel—and the lingering aroma of the half-eaten meal on the countertop. I’m always a problem for everyone around me. Nothing but a huge burden to everyone I care about.
“Hey…” Balor’s voice softens as he appears in front of me. He cups my cheek, his palm rough with calluses yet warm against my skin. “Don’t do that to yourself. You are worth everything we go through as a nest. A large, functional nest doesn’t happen overnight.” He glances at Abraxis, who reluctantly loosens his hold so Balor can draw me nearer. “As much as you want Abraxis to stay in charge, your dragoness needs someone bigger and stronger than she is.”
Abraxis’s eyes flash with protest, but Callan steps closer, resting a hand on Abraxis’s shoulder. “We’ve been in denial for months,” Callan says, his voice subdued. “She’s stronger and more lethal than any of us when she shifts. If Klauth can keep her from going on a rampage, let him bear that burden.”
The thick tension in the room is broken only by the hum of the refrigerator and the muted thud of the pipes in the wall. I follow Balor to my favorite chair, the worn leather creaking as I sink into it. Leander hands me a plate of food—some steak and a few sides. The savory aroma once made my mouth water, but now it’s tinged with a bitterness that sours my appetite. The dull glow from the nearby floor lamp shows the sadness in his fiery gaze; it’s an unspoken empathy that cuts me to the bone.
I know, deep down, that Balor and Callan are right. I need a stronger drake in charge. Maybe tonight I’ll sleep on it and make changes after the gauntlet tomorrow. My stomach clenches, and I force the steak down despite its loss of flavor. Every bite feels like lead in my mouth.
Once I’m finished, I push the plate aside, ignoring the greasy residue that clings to my fingers. Balor guides me gently toward his room, the warmth of his hand on my back steadying my swirling thoughts. Vaughn will be nothing but stone tomorrow—he can’t run with me. The sudden distance between all of us weighs heavily in my chest. My world feels smaller, darker … lonelier.
