Page 31 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
The room shifts around us, each mate moving closer, and for a moment, the swirl of uncertainties and fears fades beneath the steady hum of our bond. I hold the egg tighter, silently promising myself—and them—that no matter what questions come next, we’ll face them together.
CHAPTER 17
Abraxis
I need to do better…
Those five words echo in my mind on a constant loop, like a dripping faucet I can’t shut off. Guilt gnaws at me as I recall what the priestess said: that I’m unintentionally hurting my mate. To scar a female to that point is borderline abuse, she told me. The thought sits like a stone in my gut. I’m no better than her father, if that’s the truth of it.
I’ve been flying to my parents’ nest every day since that meeting four days ago. The elder there—a retired therapist—has been guiding me through all this turmoil I didn’t even realize I was shouldering. The wind from my flight still rustles my hair as I land on campus. My limbs tingle with fatigue, and I can taste the lingering metallic tang in the back of my throat from pushing myself so hard to get here.
By the time I enter the war games simulation room, the overhead lights hum softly, reflecting off rows of sleek metal consoles. A faint smell of heated electronics and old leather from the chairs hits my senses. Leander paces at the front of the room, his boots echoing on the polished floor, while students cluster around their stations. Mina stands out immediately. She’s squared off against Idris, one of myown tacticians, who’s propped against his console with a cocky slant to his posture.
“Today, B Team is going to attack A Team’s barracks,” Leander announces, his authoritative voice reverberating against the metal walls. “You have all the intel you’d normally receive in a war scenario.”
I move to Klauth’s side, arching a brow at him in greeting. “How’s the day going?”
He barely glances at me before handing over a crisp, cream-colored invitation. “Mina drafted this for your parents earlier.” It’s a formal announcement of his coronation and the distribution of titles.
“Titles?” I mutter under my breath, leaning in closer. My heartbeat kicks up as I think about how this might change our dynamic.
Klauth’s voice is calm but tinged with amusement. “Yes, Mina wants everyone in the nest to have titles. You and the others will be King Consorts to Her Royal Majesty. If anything happens to me, you or Thauglor step in as the next King—then the basilisk, and so on.” He waves his hand in a lazy circle, as though the idea of ranking royalty is casual business.
My jaw tightens in surprise, and I peer over at Mina—then at Idris, who’s fiddling with his station. “Why is Idris even here?”
“No one else wanted to face our mate. Idris made the mistake of stopping by to check on her for you,” Klauth says dryly, arching an unimpressed brow at me. The tension in the air is palpable, pressing in on my chest.
I sigh. “I’m sorry. With the priestesses needing your attention so often, I figured Idris could fill in if you had to step out.” I shrug, trying to convey that I meant no harm. He nods slowly, then turns and leaves shortly after.
Leander slips program cards into the machines, the soft click-click of each card echoing. “You have ten minutes to review your information and set up offense or defense,” he instructs. “Then I’ll start the battles—two at a time. Winners will face off in our next class.”
Mina’s fingers fly over the keys with a confident rhythm, the tap-tap-tap blending with the whir of the simulation consoles. She hits the last button hard, flips down the metal cover, and locks it in place. The clang of metal on metal sends a faint shiver up my spine; she carries herself like someone who knows exactly what she’s doing.
“There’s no way you’re done already,” Idris scoffs, leaning sideways to peer at her screen.
“Focus on your squad; let me worry about mine.” Mina’s voice is as cool as sharpened steel. She fixes Idris with a stare that lingers a second too long before scanning the room. When her gaze lands on me, my chest warms despite the grim setting. “Hi, Abraxis. When did you get here?” She offers a small, quick smile.
“Just a moment ago,” I say, returning her smile. “You’re actually facing my tactician from my outpost.”
She smirks, tilting her head in Idris’s direction. “So if I beat him, that explains why your battles are always close calls—or maybe I’m just smarter than he is?” Her teasing tone makes Idris bristle, and she waves at him with an almost mocking sweetness.
Idris sneers, leaning back against his console. “Females are not meant for war. That’s why your scales are softer, your talons smaller and weaker.”
The air crackles with tension, and I can practically taste the ire rolling off Mina. My pulse spikes, and I instinctively shake my head at Idris, silently begging him to back down. He doesn’t.
In one fluid motion, her emerald, and silver scales creep over her hand. The razor-sharp silver talons extend, catching the overheadlight, and she drags them across the metal frame of Idris’s screen. The screech of tearing steel sets everyone’s teeth on edge. Sparks fleck the air like fireflies before the shredded metal crashes to the floor with a clang. Idris’s face goes pale, his eyes wide.
“Yeah, those rules don’t apply to me,” Mina says coolly. With a flick of her wrist, the scales, and talons retract, leaving her hand smooth once more.
Idris stares at the quarter-inch plate steel as though it’s a fallen comrade. His gaze slides to me, and my gut twists. Mina’s newfound ability to shred metal is concerning—she’s leaning more toward her iron dragon ancestry than her father’s green.
Still, beneath my worry, a dark pride stirs within me. She’s strong—maybe stronger than any of us realized. It also makes sense how she managed to cut through the scales on Balor’s basilisk. And though I’m here to observe, I can’t shake the feeling that, in so many ways, Mina is the one truly in command of this room.
Almost an hour has elapsedand Mina has been reading a book on the history of the continent for most of the hour. “Okay, so I have to admit, this is the battle I have been waiting to see. Mina versus Idris, who is General Havock’s personal tactician.” Leander hits the button and explosions echo in the silent room. The mini war wages for half of the time that the other battles took before it goes dead silent.
Mina leans back, still reading her book, not even paying attention. The light turns on over Mina’s side and she glances up briefly before returning to her book. “Congratulations go to Mina!” Leander announces and Mina smiles and waves, then packs her bag as if nothing happened.
She walks over to me and rolls her eyes. “Can we please find something to challenge me? I’m bored as all hell.”
