Page 34 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
Later that night…
I place my foot on the narrow wooden beam and inhale, feeling my lungs fill with the musty air of the ancient temple. Torches flicker along the cold stone walls, casting dancing shadows that make the beam look smaller than it already is. A faint scent of incense tickles my nose—something floral and spicy, likely meant to cleanse the space of dark energies. Not that it does anything for my nerves.
“Again, my queen. Walk on the beam, hold your head high, and keep your shoulders back. You’re a—what’s it called? A Shadowblade? This should be easy for you.” Priestess Hellen’s voice echoes from ten feet below me, the authority in her tone prickling my skin.
I straighten, trying to ignore the tremor in my legs. “I don’t usually cross a mock parapet in a full-length gown and heels,” I mutter, cheeks warming. My breath comes in short, shallow puffs that swirl the incense-laden air.
Taking a deep breath, I place one foot in front of the other. Every muscle screams with tension, and the echo of each hesitant click of my heel against the wood sends a pulse of anxiety through me. The skirt of my gown drags along my ankles, so I lift the edges slightly. I have to force myself not to sway my hips like I usually do in heels, because any sudden shift might tip my balance.
Below me, Balor, Abraxis, Leander, and Ziggy hover with a net, ready to catch me if I fall—as I have before. Their concern weighs on me, and I fight the urge to hurry and spare them any more stress.
“Come on, Mina, you’ve got this!” Callan calls from the sidelines before a sharp crack of wood meeting flesh cuts him off. He’s supposed to be balancing books on his head for posture practice, but it appears the Priestess just reminded him to keep quiet.
A low chuckle slips from my lips. “Deep breath, my treasure,” Klauth purrs, standing at the far side of the platform with his arms outstretched. The faint scent of his cologne reaches me—a mix of sandalwood and something darker. “The sooner you get here, the sooner I can hold you.”
My heart thumps. I focus on his voice, letting it guide me across. The torchlight catches on the polished wood, momentarily blinding me, but I push forward. “Just a little bit more, my treasure,” Klauth coaxes, his voice low and soothing.
I step off the beam and practically collapse into his arms, my pulse racing. “Ugh, that was horrible,” I groan, clinging to him. His chest is warm, and I catch the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“You still have to walk back the other way, yet, Mina.” Priestess Hellen’s tone is merciless as it drifts up to us. “Abraxis, wait on theother side. Vaughn, replace him so your mate doesn’t splat on the ground.”
Vaughn slides into position below, giving me a reassuring grin. The soft rustling of robes and clank of metal echoes in the cavernous space as everyone shifts into place.
Klauth presses a comforting kiss to my temple and turns me gently. “He’s been working very hard to improve. Walk to him the way you walked to me,” he whispers. A breath of warm air caresses my ear, sending a ripple of tingles down my spine.
On the opposite side, Abraxis crosses his arms, a confident smirk lighting his features. “Come on, baby, you’ve got this. Six-time gauntlet champion won’t let a wooden parapet and heels stop her.”
His words pull a small laugh from me. “You’ve got a point there, my love.” The beam no longer feels so daunting. Each step grows lighter, fueled by the memory of why we’re doing this—training, discipline, and partnership. My mind flickers back to my childhood: cold, loveless halls, and parents who never showed me a single ounce of warmth without an ulterior motive. It’s no wonder I struggle in relationships now, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. But these men … they talk me through every doubt, every nightmare.
We’ve been putting in the work, especially after therapy sessions they insisted I start. And here, in the temple, my usually overwhelming visions are silenced. It’s a strange relief, but it also cuts off my connection to Thauglor, a being I sense in the corners of my mind. My steps falter as a prickly feeling creeps over my skin—something is off.
“What’s wrong?” Balor’s voice echoes from directly below.
“Something’s shifted…” My eyes roam the temple. The fluttering torchlight is the same, the thick, incense-tinged air unchanged, but a sudden hush has fallen, as though the temple itself is holding its breath. I hear a distant twang followed by a sharp whoosh. I whip myhead toward the sound just as something pierces my shoulder. A burst of white-hot pain steals my breath. The arrow nearly punches through me, and I reel from the shock.
I glimpse the attacker for the briefest moment before Ziggy disappears, presumably to hunt him down. Abraxis launches into the air, powerful muscles straining as he scoops me from the beam and glides me over to Klauth. I register frantic shouts—Priestesses rushing us into a hidden chamber. The walls here are damp and cool, the floor slick with condensation. I can taste copper in my mouth, and my vision swims.
I stare at the arrow embedded in my shoulder. Thick, dark blood stains my gown. Klauth’s hand trembles near the shaft, but I shake my head. “Don’t touch it. It’s made from dragon’s bane. It’s highly poisonous to dragons.”
“Shit…” Klauth and Abraxis exchange panicked looks, both clearly torn about pulling it out.
I struggle to keep my voice steady. “Leander, get hot water. Ziggy needs to grab my green bag from my bedroom. Hurry—while I’m still awake.” My throat feels tight, and the pain radiates through every nerve, making my head spin. I force myself to focus on Klauth and Balor. “Mix Macabate at twenty percent, Arkasu at thirty, Laumpor at forty, Blabert at ten. It should fix everything.”
My words slur as I fight the toxins searing my veins. I feel the air shift as Leander returns, the steam from the hot water drifting across my arms. It smells metallic, like overheated stone and a hint of linen from the clothes.
“Soak two rags in the hot water, then grip the arrow and snap off the fletchings or the arrowhead,” I instruct, voice wobbling. My eyelids grow heavy. My body wants to shut down and heal. The world blurs around me.
“Someone hold her,” Leander orders as Callan directs Ziggy to find the ingredients.
There’s a sharp crack. The agony of the arrow moving rips a scream from my throat, and darkness immediately rushes in. The last thing I hear is my own ragged breathing and my father’s voice echoing in my mind:Be faster.Then everything goes silent and I sink into the dark, willing sleep to claim me, if only to escape the pain.
I’m notsure how long I’ve been unconscious, but my nose tells me exactly where I am. The crisp mountain air carries a faint tang of snow and stone, and I catch the comforting warmth of my scent mingled with Ziggy’s and Balor’s. My skin tingles against the rough scales and coarse fur that line my makeshift bed, and I realize they must have brought me back to my nest high in the mountains.
A low groan escapes my throat as I try to shift. Ziggy’s displacer beast—a hulking creature with dark, mottled fur—wraps a thick, rubbery tentacle around my waist, carefully lifting me upright. My head throbs, and the world tilts for a moment, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut.
“She’s awake,” I hear Callan shout, his voice echoing along the newly renovated corridors. Moments later, a stampede of footsteps booms toward me, sending vibrations through the stone floor.
I slowly blink and let my gaze wander around the main chamber. Thanks to the contractors, it looks more like a palace now than a hollowed-out cavern. Smooth walls gleam faintly under soft overhead lights, and plush carpets cushion the cold stone. Everything has been transformed with elegant arches, gilded accents, and velvet drapes. Balor’s basiliskshifts beside me, its serpentine form dissolving until only the man remains, kneeling at my side. His gaze, a molten crimson, roams over my face with desperate concern before relief softens his features.
