Page 43 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
Zigmander
Not being allowedto phase and check on our mate is killing me. It’s been dark for seven long hours, and still no word from Mina. I can almost taste the tension in the stale air as I watch Klauth. The moment his eyes go vacant, I feel a chill crawl up my spine. Moving slowly around the room, I study him. The way his shadowed features betray secrets and how his low, measured tones make the silence even heavier. I’m convinced he’s talking to her—I can sense it. A sly smirk tugs at his lips as he snaps back to reality, and I narrow my eyes in silent accusation.
He beckons me with two deliberate fingers, his gesture subtle but loaded. “Mina has Vaughn’s amulet,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only we can hear, the words slicing through the murmur of our hidden conversation.
Before I can reply, Abraxis steps closer, his gaze darting around as if searching for answers in every shadow. “How many?” he asks, his tone cool and measured.
Klauth’s eyes sweep the room slowly before he replies, “Five for five.”His words are as precise as the click of a clock, each syllable punctuating the growing tension.
Just then, Samara glides past, her presence both graceful and predatory. “We’re about to end the purge,” she announces, her voice as smooth as dark velvet. I watch Finlay shift into his phoenix form—and fly out the open door. I can almost hear the rush of wind as he makes his way to the bell tower to ring the bell. We all fall silent, our ears straining until the deep, resonant tone of the bell echoes across the campus, reverberating in the hollow spaces of our anticipation.
“Now we wait,” Callan states as he moves to the window, his eye scanning the darkness for any sign of Mina. The sound of his measured footsteps on the creaking floorboards blends with Leander’s restless pacing inside.
“Waiting is the worst part,” Leander grumbles, his voice low and heavy with impatience.
In a far corner of the room, Samara, and several other professors huddle over record books. Their pens scratch methodically on paper as they tally the kills. “It’s morbid we do this,” Anipe purrs softly, her voice almost a caress as she flips her book open to a clean page and neatly writes the date at the top.
I notice Lysander is nowhere in sight—a detail that sets my nerves on edge. Soon, a half dozen students file in, each documenting their claimed kills, most only listing one or two. I watch Klauth’s smirk widen as he listens to the meager records, a silent acknowledgment of our grim reality.
After almost an hour, the heavy wooden door creaks open and Mina enters. Her fingers are tangled in Arista’s vibrant red hair, a striking contrast against the dull room. As she strides over to Samara’s table, I catch the faint scent of blood and iron in the air. Without ceremony, she plops Arista’s severed head down on the table. “Willamina Ragnar, five kills: Arista, Serra, Cillia, Graham, andDemi. Two by poison, two by knives in their eye sockets and one…” Her voice trails off into a twisted grin before she tilts her head, adding, “One you can say lost her head.” The purr in her tone sends a shiver down my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.
“Recorded, your grace,” Samara intones, lowering her head in respectful deference as Mina returns a graceful bow before approaching us.
“I wish to go home,” Mina declares, her voice low and laden with a bittersweet finality. I can see her canines still distended, a visual promise of the hunger beneath her composed exterior.
Concern tugs at me as I step closer. “Mina, are you okay?” I ask softly, my voice nearly drowned out by the distant echoes of my restless thoughts. From past experience, I know she gets amped up after fights, her adrenaline mixing with something darker.
“You know how I get, Ziggy…” she purrs, moving closer. Her scent envelops me—a heady blend of musk and desire that makes my pulse quicken.
“Let’s get everyone home so we can talk together,” I suggest, pulling her into a tight embrace. I press my lips to her neck, feeling the heat radiate through her skin as I run my hand through her hair. I watch, transfixed, as her scales shift color, shimmering with an intensity that mirrors the storm of emotions inside me. The start of the magenta that warns of her yearly is clear. When Abraxis and Klauth exchange a glance, I point to her neck, and they immediately understand. The start of her cycle is upon us.
Before I know it, Balor, Klauth, and Abraxis are at my side. I phase the four of them to the nest deep in the mountains. As I phase back to the school, Leander, Callan, and Vaughn are waiting, their anxious faces illuminated by the dim corridor lights. I pull them along and, together; we phase back to the nest.
When we arrive, I can hear one of our own already taking care of Mina’s needs.
“Her scent is stronger than ever,” Balor remarks as he rounds the corner into what has become our makeshift living room. The smell is pungent and intoxicating, lingering in the air like a forbidden perfume.
“Who’s in with Mina?” I ask, my voice low and curious as I head over to grab a drink from the counter.
“Both dragons … Mostly so Klauth can get Abraxis to have Mina fully submit to him,” Balor explains, sipping his drink slowly as if it holds the answers to the universe. “We need to settle the nest, and if she continues challenging one of the dragons, we’ll never find peace.”
“So most of the issues are because Abraxis let Mina get away with shit?” Vaughn interjects, tilting his head as he looks at all of us while clutching a glass of water.
“The short version, yes,” Balor replies, his gaze fixed on his drink as though it might reveal more secrets.
I climb onto the worn arm of the couch and peer down the darkened hallway toward Mina’s room. “So, how is this going to work?” I ask, glancing over at the others with a mix of apprehension and determination.
Callan, ever practical, strolls over while handing out boxes of condoms. “We go in by twos. Someone will have to stay with the last person after their turn.”
“With two viable drakes in the nest, this is going to be far worse than last time.” I mention as I settle myself on the couch, waiting to see what happens next.
Four hours later,Klauth emerges from the dim corridor with Abraxis, who looks as if he’s just returned from war. I clutch two cold bottles of water in my hand, the condensation slick against my skin, and ask, “What happened?” as I offer them both a bottle.
“It was far worse than even I expected,” Klauth growls, his voice rumbling low and dangerous as he fixes a steely glare on Abraxis. His words slice through the heavy, sweat-laden air. “Regaining her respect is going to be difficult now that she knows she’s stronger than this one.” He jerks his thumb sharply in Abraxis’s direction.
Abraxis’s face twists with raw frustration. “How many times do I have to say I’m sorry and admit I fucked up?” he barks, his voice rough and desperate, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls.
Klauth’s tone shifts to one of command as he fixes his gaze on me. “Ziggy, you and Balor go in together. Establishing dominance shouldn’t be an issue, since neither of you are dragons.” With that, he strides over to Thauglor’s egg resting on a cluttered table. As he picks it up, I notice its surface pulsating in a slow, almost violent rhythm—each beat sending a shiver down my spine. “You better hatch it before our mate's next cycle. I swear if I have to wrangle this again alone, I will punt your egg off a cliff.”
