Page 42 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
“I love you more,” he replies with a wink before vanishing from sight.
I close my eyes for a moment, savoring the lingering warmth of his affection—a happiness that always seems to cling to Ziggy. When I open my eyes again, a steely, predatory focus takes over. I pull my mask back up, secure my hood in place, and slide on my black gloves. Keeping to the shadows, I find the best possible vantage point to watch the campus, every sense alive to the night’s sounds and scents. All I need now is for the sun to set completely and for the games to begin.
The last lightfades over the mountains, and the bells toll, signaling the beginning of the purge. Students burst from the dorms, their hurried footsteps echoing along cold stones as they scatter in search of hiding places. Some have already started to hunt—faces twisted in feral determination. They kill anyone who dares come too close. I watch my guys and several others leave Malivore, heading toward the teachers’ housing to wait out the purge.
The only ones I don’t see emerging are the fire drakes. I creep along the roof of the Aurelian Conservatory, my boots barely whispering against the cool slate. I make sure no one else has dared to follow the brilliant idea I had. My eyes shift over to my dragons as I take in the scene below. The frantic shuffling of students, the ragged breaths mingling with the chill night air, and the scent of fear and smoke that hangs heavy in the darkness.
It feels like an eternity before the first fire drake slinks out from the northern dorms. Serra steps into the gloom and immediately slashes at the first student who crosses her path, her blade catching the meager light. I reach back into the pouch at my lower back and extract some fresh poison I harvested today. Monkshood, otherwise known as wolf’s bane—contains aconitine, a potent neurotoxin and cardiotoxin. I dip the tip of an arrow into it, then load it into my mini crossbow.
When Serra pauses, I take my shot. The arrow finds its mark in her abdomen. I watch, impassive, as she crumples to the ground clutching the deadly shaft. Her agonized cries reverberate through the night, drawing Graham to her side. I quickly dip another arrow in the monkshood tincture and fire again—this time nailing him squarely in the ass. The muted thud against his flesh is confirmation of my precise aim. I keep low, shifting positions to maintain a perfectline of sight, and then scale a small tower. My back presses against the cold stone as I watch, every sense attuned to the unfolding chaos.
Serra dies quickly, the combined effect of the neurotoxin and cardiotoxin halting her heart with ruthless efficiency. Graham, having been hit in the muscle of his ass, will endure a slower, more agonizing end. Soon, Cillia emerges, her steps tentative in the chill night as she investigates alongside Demi, who follows not far behind. They find their nest mates lying dead outside the northern dorms. Their mistake was looking low, on the ground, instead of up, where the actual threat lingers.
Across the dorm, I see Arista leave, heading south toward Malivore. Vaughn, technically is not a student this year after losing his amulet, has taken refuge with the guys at the teachers’ housing, waiting for the madness to subside.
A question pulses in my mind. Do I hunt Arista, who is alone at the moment, or pick off these two fools from up here? I decide—I’m going after Arista. After all, I’d like the second half of my year to be easier than the first.
I sprintto the back of the building, my heart thundering in my ears as I press my body against the cool, rough stone. I dig my talons into the weathered surface and scale the wall with a steady, determined grace. Once on the ground, I crouch low, every sense alert. I listen to the distant echoes of footsteps. The rustle of leaves in the chill night air, and the soft hum of the city beyond.
I make my way to the tree line, running along its edge while staying within the boundaries of shadow and light. The crisp scent of damp earth mingles with the faint odor of burning wood, a reminder of lastnight’s bonfire. I crouch low once more, watching the chaotic scene unfolding around me before I sprint toward the Malivore building. My gut churns with unease. I know Arista is headed for my suite. Whether she’s hunting me or one of my guys, it spells trouble.
Using my talons again, I scale the stone face of the Malivore building. My fingertips grazing the cold, rough surface as I ascend. I perch on the roof for a moment, the cool night air nipping at my skin, and listen intently. Seconds pass as I soak in every sound — murmurs of conversation, even the soft scuffle of my breath—before I continue along the roof until I am directly over my balcony.
Inside, I hear movement. I hang upside down at the glass door, my eyes straining in the dim light, and watch as she moves inside my suite. The sound of her deliberate steps sends shivers down my spine. The moment she heads down the hall toward the back rooms, I drop silently and ease the door open. I slip into the suite, slide the door shut behind me. Quietly, I hit the breaker just inside the pantry in the kitchen, plunging the apartment into darkness.
I count my heartbeats in the silence before she returns to the main living space. A flicker of movement draws my attention—a small ball of fire dancing over her hand, casting eerie shadows that stretch like claws across the walls. With every step she takes, I move in tandem, silently positioning myself for the kill. I toss an empty can into the living room; its clatter distracts her just long enough. When she turns, illuminated by the pulsating glow of the flame, I step forward.
Her face pales under the fiery light as I raise a single finger to pull down my mask. “You stole something from my mate … I want it back,” I murmur, my voice low and dripping with menace. I study her panicked eyes as they dart around the room.
Without warning, her hand dives into her pocket, and she slaps an amulet onto the nearest table. “There. I’ll leave now,” she stammers, attempting to push past me. I block her path, my nails shifting into deadly talons as I slide my hand up her throat.
“That’s not what I want,” I purr, stepping behind her as the door to my suite swings open and Demi enters with Cillia.
“What do you want?” she whispers, motioning for her nest mates to halt. My talons press against her soft throat, and I feel her pulse pounding like a frantic drum beneath my fingers. “The time I lost with my mate, back,” I reply. In a swift, brutal motion, I pull back hard and fast, nearly severing her head from her shoulders. Blood erupts, splattering in a macabre arc as she crumples to the floor.
Before Demi and Cillia can react, I hurl my knives with precision. They sink deep into the sockets of their eyes with a sickening, wet thud. Their bodies collapse just inside the door, and I arch a brow, a bitter smile curling my lips as I survey the carnage.
‘Mate, are you okay?’Klauth’s voice echoes in my mind, and I allow myself a small, triumphant smile.
‘Yes, tell Vaughn I have his amulet. We’re not living here any longer—the stains will never come out of the carpets,’I remark, my gaze lingering on the blood-soaked floor.
‘The stains?’Klauth’s tone is teasing, and I can’t help but laugh.
‘Yeah … I killed Arista in the kitchen. Demi and Cillia ended up with blades in their eyes in the living room. Now I need to drag the bodies out into the hallway,’I explain calmly, starting with Cillia’s limp form.
‘Three out of five—not bad, mate,’Klauth’s pride resonates in his words.
‘Serra and Graham are dead outside the northern dorms. Five for five,’I add as I move Demi next in to the hallway. I pause, scanning the corridor for any sign of pursuit, before returning to drag Arista’s body out last.
‘I shall tell the others. I can’t send Ziggy to you—it’s against the rules. You still need to come and record your kills,’Klauth’s voice drones, almost bored in my mind.
‘Will do. See you soon,’I reply. I step back into the apartment and scatter baking soda over the blood on the tile, watching as it soaks in and helps blot the crimson stains. On the carpet, I pour peroxide, silently praying it won’t leave a permanent mark.
Before leaving, I slip out into my poison garden, the scent of decaying vegetation and toxic blooms thick in the air. I retrieve Thauglor’s egg with careful precision, nestling it into the single leather carrier I carry. Then I return to the kitchen, grab Vaughn’s amulet, and slip it into my pocket before locking up and departing the suite. I claim my trophy and walk down the hall, heading to exit Malivore and meet up with my mates.
I leave my talons exposed as I navigate the dim hallways of Malivore. When one student charges at me, I simply raise my empty hand, and they falter, eyes widening before they turn and run back the way they came. The journey, which feels like it should have taken days, consumes the better half of the night. I recall my mother’s words with a dark chuckle.Time flies when you’re having fun.Tonight, I have five fewer enemies to worry about. Now, with only two remaining, I wonder how I’ll handle them when the time comes.
CHAPTER 23
