Page 41 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
A soft smile plays upon her pale pink lips, the delicate scent of her perfume mingling with the rich aroma of spiced wine in the air. “I’m hoping that when all of this is said and done, we can bring about real change for our people.” She arches her head and puckers her lips in invitation. I lean in and kiss her, our moment punctuated by the sudden burst of cheers from the surrounding crowd. “The betrothal system has to go,” she declares between kisses.
I press a gentle kiss to her temple, savoring the warmth of her skin. “It’s one of the first things on the chopping block,” I reply, kissing her again as we eventually drift apart, passing her off to Abraxis for the next dance.
Callan sidles up next to me, bumping my shoulder with a knowing grin. I raise an eyebrow as he comments, “They’re doing better. Abraxis is handling his insecurity, and Mina isn’t trying to destroy the world just because he’s feeling insecure and anxious.” His words, casual yet piercing, hit the nail on the head.
“They spent the other night together—and not a single fresh bite on Mina,” I note, tilting my head as I watch them from across the room. “I call that an improvement.”
Callan’s eye widens slightly before he leans in, lowering his voice. “The therapist telling him he was physically abusing her—biting her so much—it hit him hard. Don’t tell him I told you that part.”
Shaking my head, I draw in a deep breath, the cool air mingling with the heady scent of incense. “Mina already told me. She didn’t realize he was abusing her. Hell, he didn’t know he was doing it. It’s a stress reaction from a young, insecure drake. It wasn’t intentional or malicious.”
Before I can dwell further, Abraxis and Mina return to the dance floor, and Balor sweeps in to lead Mina away for another dance.
“Have I missed anything?” Abraxis asks as he approaches, his tone light but laced with curiosity.
“Nothing important—just enjoying how happy Mina is,” I reply, deftly steering the conversation as a member of the wait staff approaches with glasses of wine. The clink of crystal against crystal punctuates my toast. “Here’s to a better tomorrow,” I say, raising my glass.
“Here’s to the purge. May Mina’s talons be sharp and strike true,” Abraxis retorts before taking a long, deep drink. The bitter tang of the wine reminds me abruptly that the purge is scheduled in three days—a thought that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Well, since I’m neither staff nor an instructor, I guess I’ll be on Mina watch,” I add, knocking back the remaining wine. I draw in a deep, steadying breath, the taste of wine and apprehension mingling on my tongue.
How did I manage to forget that the purge is starting so soon?
CHAPTER 22
Mina
I thinkthat in the last twenty-four hours; I have been in each of my mates’ beds at least twice. I stand by the window of the spare bedroom, watching as the sun sinks slowly below the horizon, painting the sky in deep hues of crimson and violet. Tonight is that one day—every three years—when diplomatic immunity is lifted. A soft laugh escapes my lips as I run my fingers over the smooth, cool surface of the special leathers Vox made for me. The black leather drinks in the fading light, its texture as silent and unforgiving as a corpse.
I remind myself that four fire drakes, plus Arista, have caused me enough trouble already. They will hunt me as fiercely as I plan to hunt them.
“Are you ready?” Vaughn and Callan stand at the door, their voices low and expectant.
“Almost. I still have a few things to grab.” I reply as I leave the spare room and step into what used to be my room. The familiar scent of aged wood and leather mingles with the cool evening air as I root around in the steamer chest at the foot of the bed. It’s a massiveweapons cache I’ve built up over time, not to mention the spoils from my raids on hidden caches around the campus. I load my leathers with ten throwing knives, along with my dual short swords, a gift from Ziggy. While rummaging, I find my handheld drow crossbow and secure the bolts into the forearm bracer designed for it.
“Can I help you?” Abraxis enters the space, holding up the tape I use on my horns. His tone is calm yet probing.
“Sure, start at the tips, then wind down to the base,” I instruct, closing the trunk and settling onto its worn surface. The leather creaks softly beneath me as Abraxis carefully wraps the tape around my horns. I reach into my pocket and pull out a miniature map of the campus, its creased edges a testament to many nights spent studying it.
“Remember, you cannot shift fully—partial is allowed,” Callan reminds me while flipping through the rule book. His voice carries a weight of authority as he recites, “The containment area is the campus; no one is allowed to leave. Anyone caught outside is automatically thrown into the dungeon to be sentenced at a later date.” He looks up, and I nod in understanding.
“Gotcha. I’m going to go get into position.” I slip the hood over my horns and tie my mask securely into place. Approaching the mirror, I retrieve a small pot of black paint and carefully coat the skin above the mask, the bristles of the brush whispering over my skin. Balor steps in then, spraying me with a scent-neutralizing mist that carries a crisp, almost clinical odor.
“You know we can’t help her during the purge,” Callan interjects, his tone laced with caution.
“The purge hasn’t started yet. The sun is still up,” Leander says from the doorway, his silhouette framed by the last light of day.
“So technically, I could ask Ziggy to drop me somewhere as long as the sun is up?” I arch a brow, glancing at Callan, who is a stickler for the rules.
“Technically, yes…” He arches his brow over his empty eye socket as he scrutinizes me.
“Excellent! Ziggy, we’re burning daylight—let’s go!” With that, he grabs hold of me, and we phase onto the roof of the Aurelian Conservatory.
“Why here?” Ziggy whispers, his voice soft and full of curiosity, as I nudge him into the shadows.
“I can see both the Northern and Southern Dorms from here. It will be easy to spot them moving about,” I explain, pulling down my mask momentarily to kiss him. I press him against the wall, my black leather concealing him in the dim light. A soft purr escapes his lips as his hand finds the small of my back, drawing me flush against him.
We break apart slowly, our eyes lingering on one another. I kiss him once more before spraying myself with a small bottle of scent neutralizer. “I love you,” I whisper, the words almost lost in the rustle of night.
