Page 13 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
As I ponder my life choices, I hear Klauth’s drake calling for me—its low, resonant timbre echoes through the open skies, setting my veins aflame with recognition. It’s rare for a drake to sing for its mate, especially one as ancient and powerful as he is. I adjust my wings, banking on the next updraft, and head toward his song. The crisp air brushes against my face, and I inhale the fleeting scent of pine and distant smoke. The song that escapes my lips in answer to his speaks of the promise of forever vibrating from deep in my chest. I am his queen, his treasure, as his song continues, speaking of his love eternal.
His voice leads me to my nest in the mountains, and I spot the start of dragon glass walls glinting dully in the waning sunlight. The sharp tang of heated stone reaches my nose, reminding me of molten rock cooling rapidly.He remembered …When he sees my silhouette on the horizon, Klauth shifts back to his human form, giving me enough space to land. I circle what will one day be the courtyard several times, scanning the fresh ridges of rock and inhaling the earthy smell of newly unearthed soil. On the third pass, I come in for a landing, my talons scraping against the rough ground, and then shift back to my human form.
Thankfully, the enchantments on the fighting leathers keep them snug around my body, leaving only the taste of ozone on my tongue from the residual energy. Slowly, I turn in a circle, marveling at how much he’s dug out for me. The courtyard is now twice its original size, and the entrance—already half-covered in dragon glass—yawns large enough to fit his drake.
“Do you like it? I hope I didn’t overstep.” Klauth’s voice is low and tentative as he steps closer, the gentle warmth of his presence enveloping me before he even touches me. Then he pulls me into his arms. The earlier rage that burned in my chest fizzles out, replaced by deep gratitude.
“It’s amazing, thank you.” My voice wavers as I struggle to keep my emotions in check. The faint mineral scent of dragon glass and stone dust lingers in the air. But all I really sense is the warmth of Klauth’s body against mine. He didn’t have to dig my nest for me, but he did.
“I want to show you what I did.” He presses his lips to my temple with reverence, and we walk slowly into what will be our family’s home.
My eyes move from wall to wall, taking in his deep gouges, evidence of his drake’s powerful talons. The acrid smell of freshly cut rock mixed with the slight sulfuric tang still hanging in the corridors from his breath weapon. I pause several times, reaching out to feel the smooth planes where he has melted the stone into glass. It’s almost warm to the touch, like it’s holding on to the lingering heat of his flame. The original small chamber I dug remains in place, its entrance jagged from where I first carved out the rock.
“I’m too big to expand that room. I left it as a possible sitting room.” We step inside, and I take in the pile of furs spread across the floor. The dim light reveals the worn edges of the pelts, each telling the story of hunts past.
“It’s where I slept for my yearly.” A wave of distaste washes over me as I recall those nights—forced sleep, trapped in my mind with no choice in the matter.
“You know how I feel about that,” he rumbles softly next to my ear before guiding me out of the room, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my skin.
“I do, and I’m seeing the wisdom in it.” I sigh a little, the faint echo bouncing off the cavern walls. “I’ve been conditioned to believe that I’m only good for two things: a weapon or a breeder.” I let out a mirthless laugh as I stop walking. “I don’t want to be either. Yes, I want hatchlings of my own. But I don’t want to wage war anymore.” The quiet dripping of condensation from somewhere deeper in thecave punctuates my words. I look down at our joined hands, feeling the rough calluses of his palms, as we enter a larger area he’s carved out. Here, the walls gleam with glassy patches, reflecting the flicker of torchlight. The smell of heated stone intensifies. “Do I smell limestone?”
Klauth nods and leads me into a heated limestone room that makes my skin prickle. The temperature is perfect—balmy, soothing. I release his hand and run my fingertips over the grooves left by his talons, feeling the cool ridges and lingering dampness.
“I didn’t know if you wanted a structure in the middle, like most dragonesses, or if you wanted the gryphon to make a nest.” He stands behind me, the heat of his chest pressed gently against my back. “Over in that corner would be best—the temperature is milder, so you’d have an equal chance at both genders.” He rests his cheek atop my head, and I close my eyes, letting the rumbling of his voice resonate through me.
“I remember. Cooler for females, warmer for males.” I spin in his arms, looking up into his crimson-flecked amber eyes. My heart thrums with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. “Please tell me we don’t have to betroth our children. It’s cruel and barbaric.”
“I took a chosen bride at the age of two hundred and twenty-seven,” he says, his voice resonating with regret. “I paid the dowry price, and when the female reached maturity, we met. She wasn’t you.” He forces a smile. “A drake can go mad without a female to temper his rage. She was a means to an end. Then my clutch was burned, and I went on a rampage. Not to avenge her, but for my lost children.” His face tightens with sadness, and the flickering torchlight casts shadows across his features.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” I stand on my tiptoes, and he bends to meet me halfway. Klauth is nearly a foot taller than me, so our kiss is a careful dance. My senses fill with the musk of his skin, and I taste the tang of ash on his lips, born from days of shifting and building.When we break apart, he leads me through the winding corridors. The walls are uneven but majestic, each raw edge carved by his drake’s brutal strength. Klauth has accomplished more in one night than we did in a month.
“Thank you for digging my nest.” I rest my head against his broad chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, letting it ground me.
“You’re welcome, my treasure.” His hand cups the back of my head, pressing me closer, while his other arm wraps around my waist in a firm embrace. “Come, I have food and drink for us in the next chamber.” He takes my hand and guides me into a room lined with candles, their flames dancing against the glossy walls. Ziggy’s scent lingers here—an inviting aroma of cedar and the faint sweetness of honeyed cakes—reminding me I’m never truly alone in this new home.
A low,comforting warmth radiates through the smooth stone beneath me, pulsing upward like the heartbeat of the mountain itself. We’re deep inside a hidden cavern high in the peaks, where the heat from natural underground vents seeps through cracks in the rock, banishing the alpine chill. The cavern’s walls curve around us in dark, sinuous shapes, flecked with faint veins of minerals that glimmer dully in the muted glow of the candlelight. Outside, a fierce wind whistles across the mountainside, but in here, we’re cocooned in silence and warmth.
Klauth has gone to great lengths for our comfort—he’s brought a blanket to cover the rough stone, some food in leather pouches, and a skin of cool water. He settles next to me, describing how he painstakingly dug out this new nest for me here in the mountain. Hisvoice is a soothing bass, but I’m too captivated by the way his neck and jaw flex with every word. The faint scratch of stubble catching the cavern’s candle light. My gaze drifts to his eyes, where crimson flecks catch the glow each time he shifts his attention around the shadowy space.
A deep, satisfied purr ripples in my chest as I watch him—my ancient drake who saved me from certain death and gave me this sanctuary. He hasn’t demanded his rightful claim, though everything in my blood screams I should give in. Still, I have my own designs on him. Slowly, I rise to all fours, the blanket’s coarse weave rubbing against my palms and knees. A soft purr vibrates in my throat as I prowl toward him. I’m coiled with tension and desire—after all, we are alone in a cavern beyond the academy’s reach. I feel strangely safe with Klauth. But that doesn’t dampen my hunger. I want him to be mine.
“Mina?” he murmurs, leaning back a fraction when I draw closer.
I press my nose against his abdomen, inhaling the warm, masculine scent clinging to his skin—a tang of sweat, a strong drake musk made richer by the cavern’s heat. A throaty purr escapes me, and my pulse quickens as I pick up the subtle undertone of his desire. Klauth leans back without a word, granting me free access to his throat. I sweep my tongue from his collarbone to just beneath his ear. My taste buds tingle with the salt of his skin.
“Mate, my mate…” I purr, teasing my teeth along the spot near my first bite on his neck. A wave of heat burns through me, tightening my core. I could devour him if I let myself go.
“Mina…” he breathes, husky and reverent, while his strong fingers move to the buckles on my leather jacket. The metallic snap of each fastening echoes through the cavern, mingling with the distant drip of water seeping somewhere behind us.
I recline onto my haunches, popping the final buckle free, and let the jacket fall away. The sudden rush of warm air against my skin makes me shiver. Beneath, I wear an ace wrap over my sports bra, binding my chest flat.
“Why?” Klauth’s tone is curious, laced with concern. His eyes hold mine steadily as he carefully slips one talon under the bandage, slicing it open.
“Boobs get in the way of archery and swordplay,” I mutter, feeling a stab of insecurity. The real reason is more complicated. I never wanted the unwanted attention. Even the leathers can’t entirely hide my curves. My breath stutters at the intensity of Klauth’s stare as the wrap unwinds, revealing the simple sports bra that barely contains me.
I force a casual shrug. “I take after my father’s mother—big breasts, short stature.” My hands move to the zippers on my boots, the scrape of metal surprisingly loud in the hush of the cavern. I peel off my leather pants, kneeling in just my sports bra and thong, goosebumps rising on my skin despite the heat from the stone floor. I eye him pointedly. “Your turn. You’re overdressed.”
He blinks as though coming out of a trance, a flush darkening the scars on his cheeks. Without another word, he strips off his shirt, tossing it aside. In the dim, golden lamplight, every scar on his torso stands in relief, a crisscross map of battles waged over centuries. Abraxis is marred too, but he can’t compare to Klauth’s unyielding history etched into his flesh.
