Page 46 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
“It’s warmer—that’s all I know,” I reply, my voice barely concealing the undercurrent of worry. Then, without warning, movement off to the side catches my eye. I shove Balor away just as a blade whistles through the air. Its cold, gleaming edge embedding itself in the rough bark of a nearby tree with a harsh, metallic thunk.
Before I can react, Balor is in motion. In a blur of controlled fury, he seizes the ambush drake by the throat, lifting the creature off the ground with terrifying speed. “Who sent you?” he bellows, his voice echoing off the wall as he slams his body against it. The sickening crack of bones reverberates, and my blood runs cold.
The ambush drake croaks, voice raw and broken, “She killed Demi…” Its words hang heavy in the charged silence.
“And Demi has tried to kill my mate several times,” Balor growls, lowering the creature so that its feet touch the ground. “Kill or be killed—that’s what the purge is for.” His voice is rough, laden with a dangerous promise that sends shivers down my spine.
The creature manages a sneer. “The purge is over, teach…” it rasps, dripping contempt.
“That’s true,” Balor retorts, his free hand rising to lift his sunglasses onto his head, “but you just tried to kill my mate. Your life is forfeit.” In that instant, I watch in horrified fascination as the ambush drake’s face slackens. Its skin beginning to harden in a creeping wave that starts at its eyes and cascades down its body. I’ve never seen a basilisk’s stone gaze at work. Seeing it in action is far more chilling than any tale.
“Fuck!” Balor screams, wrenching his fingers from the creature as he runs a rough hand through his hair. His eyes dart from me to the stone figure, his voice thick with anger and regret. “I never wanted you to see that.”
I rise onto my tiptoes and press my lips gently against his, careful of the egg carrier wedged between us. A low, contented purr, deep and resonant as my inner dragoness awakens, vibrates in my chest. “You are not a monster, Balor. You … are a very good male—a wonderful mate and my best friend,” I murmur, framing his face with my hands as I look up into his soft, earnest eyes.
He leans down to kiss me again, his lips warm and reassuring against mine. “The things I can do, Mina … my temper is uncontrollable when it comes to you. I’d turn this entire campus into a statue garden if it meant keeping you safe,” he murmurs, his fingers threading through my hair with a fierce tenderness.
I laugh softly, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I never thought hearing about mass genocide could be romantic. But if anyone ever hurts you,” I add, lifting my face to meet his gaze, “I’d light up the sky with the fiercest lightning strike I can muster and burn them all to ash.”
Balor’s eyes soften as he bends to press his forehead against mine. “We will do whatever it takes to keep the nest and our family safe,”he whispers, before kissing my forehead. His words are a vow as solid as the stone of the ambush drake now frozen in our midst.
Hand in hand, we make our way toward my first-period science class—a pointless requirement for someone with mates, yet necessary for graduation. As we walk, I squeeze his hand. Some students give us a wide berth while others lower their eyes in deference, acknowledging the new reputation I bear.
“I’m your personal guard from now on,” Balor declares with a wry smile. “Well, Ziggy and I are. We’ve been relieved of our teaching duties—except for my one class and anything involving the gauntlets.”
He opens the classroom door for me, and I step in ahead of him, moving to my usual seat at the far back against the wall. The room smells faintly of chalk and old books, and the low hum of the projector mingles with the quiet rustle of turning pages. Balor sits beside me as we watch Kai stride onto the platform at the head of the class.
“Most of this class is for the unmated dragons and other species today,” Kai announces in a calm, measured tone. “For those who are mated, please read chapter six on your own.” His lecture on pheromones and their effect on males begins. I can’t help but let my mind wander between the day’s lessons and the tumultuous events that have already shaken my world.
CHAPTER 25
Callan
I sit in the dim,stuffy meeting room this morning, the air heavy with the scent of old leather and stale coffee. All the teachers and instructors have been summoned, and I know it’s because Klauth and Mina have been crowned sovereign rulers of the Aurelian Isles.
“What does this mean for the academy?” Samara asks, gliding into her usual spot on the right side of the long, scarred oak table. Her voice is smooth but laced with uncertainty, and I can almost feel the tremor of tension in the space between us.
Lysander’s words cut through the low murmur like a shard of ice. “Nothing but the King will have his eyes focused on the academy,” he declares venomously. His tone is dripping with disdain as his words echo off the cold stone walls.
Abraxis’s response is even colder. “It was given back to him, as is the blood rite of inheritance.” He continues, his voice flat and unyielding, “It’s in the accords. If an elder emerges with a proven blood claim on lands, all lands revert to the rightful owner or heir.” With a heavy slap, he sends a thick, worn leather tome crashing onto thetable. The sound reverberates through the room, and I catch a whiff of its musty pages as they settle open.
Anipe tilts her head, her eyes narrowing as she examines the tome. “My people adhere to the same right of inheritance,” she says softly before her gaze shifts to me. “Your mate is now our queen, yet she still attends classes like a commoner. Why hasn’t she tried to test out and graduate early? She’s clearly the smartest student on campus.” Hearing her praise for Mina fills me with a fierce pride, even as the charged air prickles with unspoken disapproval.
“She believes she needs the education here and doesn’t want to be treated any differently,” I add, my voice firm yet tinged with concern. I glance at Abraxis—his silent nod confirms it—and I see Leander and Ziggy offering their quiet assent. Their subtle gestures mingle with the low hum of tension that vibrates in the room.
Lysander’s gaze sweeps around as he demands, “Where is Mr. Husk?” His voice is sharp, echoing off the stone like a challenge.
“He’s on guard duty,” Ziggy replies. As he speaks, his eyes suddenly flash with an eerie green light—a glow that sends an unexpected chill down my spine.
Lysander isn’t having any of it. “He has classes to teach,” he snaps, slamming his hands down on the table. The resounding thud rattles the heavy silence.
A low growl escapes Abraxis as he fixes Lysander with a steely stare—the first time I’ve ever seen him openly defy that man. “He has fifth-period archery and weapons training three days a week. When he’s teaching, one of the others stays with Mina.” His words are accompanied by a subtle unfurling of his wings. The soft rustle of the leathery skin a clear warning that fills the room with a palpable charge.
Finlay’s measured voice cuts in next. “Do we have the final total from the purge?” He holds up the ancient tome as if to record the last counts,and I catch the faint scent of ink and worn paper rising from its pages.
Isobel—the resident green hag with a voice as rough as gravel—steps forward. “Three hundred and nine. Willamina Ragnar…” She enunciates the new last name with a crisp finality, then looks at Abraxis, who simply nods. “Had the highest kill count of five.” Her words hang in the air, heavy and foreboding, as the reality of the purge’s toll settles over us like a dark shroud.
Lysander snarls, turning his back on the table. “She wiped out an entire nest of fire drakes. Do you have any idea how much trouble her killing spree caused us with Arista’s father?” His voice, raw with anger, seems to make the very air vibrate.
