Page 52 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
As shadows dance languidly across the room, the weight of Mina’s choices presses down upon us, as tangible as the dust motes swirling in the fading light. With all the changes that have swept through our lives in recent months, the question is no longer what Mina will do—it’s what she won’t do to get an answer.
CHAPTER 28
Mina
We phase backinto our nest at Malivore, and I scan the living room. The cool air carries a hint of cedar and old parchment. The soft creak of the wooden floor under my bare feet reminds me that nothing here is ever truly silent. “He should be here soon,” I murmur, my voice barely louder than the whisper of the wind outside. I glance down at the worn carpet for a moment before lifting my eyes again to study the room—yet something feels off. I pace slowly, each measured step echoing in the quiet as I scrutinize every shadow and corner.
“What’s wrong?” Abraxis asks, his tone laced with concern as he mirrors my searching gaze.
“Something’s off. Something’s changed in my nest,” I reply, feeling the fine scales along the nape of my neck rise like tiny sentinels in unease.
“Mina, slow down and focus,” Ziggy says softly, his warm voice a gentle anchor amidst the tension. He reaches out and takes my hands, guiding me to breathe deeply with him. He inhales in an exaggerated, deliberate manner, and I feel the steady rise of his chestbeneath my palm. Matching my breathing to his, I force the frantic racing of thoughts to slow.
As the thunder of my heartbeat subsides, I concentrate once more. “My nest feels off. Something has been changed,” I say, my voice low and trembling with uncertainty. I sweep my eyes slowly across the room before meeting Ziggy’s. His eyes glowing a mesmerizing shade of green that reflects both calm reassurance and unspoken urgency.
“What was changed?” Ziggy asks, but before I can reply, Abraxis strides over to the door. I catch the soft creak as it opens and feel a cool draft sweep into the room as he steps outside.
I resume my patrol, moving through the interior with deliberate care, each step heightening my awareness of the subtle disturbances. Approaching the kitchen, the disquiet grows stronger—a prickling tension that tightens in my gut. On the counter, bathed in the flicker of a solitary lamp, I spot salt and pepper shakers. I don’t recall ever purchasing such items; their presence is foreign, even jarring, against the familiar textures of my home. Without hesitation, I snatch them up, the cool metal clinking between my fingers, and stride to the balcony. I slide open the door, feeling the crisp night air brush against my skin, and hurl the shakers down into the dew-kissed grassy lawn below. The immediate discomfort eases, though a lingering unease still nestles in the corners of my mind.
Before I can resume my careful prowling, the front door swings open again. Abraxis re-enters, this time with Lysander in tow. A low, primal growl stirs within me—a sound I quickly suppress. “Miss Havock…” he begins.
“Ragnar—Queen Ragnar,” I correct him firmly, standing tall with my shoulders squared as I fix him with an unyielding stare.
Lysander narrows his eyes as he regards me. “Queen Ragnar, may I inquire why you gave me a dud egg?” he asks, his tone mingling with amusement and reproach.
‘Do I have to answer Lysander’s questions?’I silently protest as I lean on the bond I share with Klauth for guidance.
‘No … You are his Queen—you answer to no one but me in public. Otherwise, you answer to no one,’Klauth interjects smoothly, and I can almost feel the curve of his smile in his measured words.
Lysander fixes his gaze on me, waiting for my retort. I sigh and reply in a bored tone, “There’s only one male I answer to, and it’s not you.” I tilt my head, watching a flicker of irritation pass over his features as Abraxis muffles a laugh and looks away.
“I am still the headmaster of this academy!” he declares, his voice booming off the stone walls. I smile in return.
“For now…” I let the veiled threat hang in the air as I lock eyes with him. A low, rumbling purr—a deep echo of my inner dragon—rumbles through me as I watch the colors in Lysander’s gaze shift from defiance to reluctant submission. I sense his desire to launch into a tirade, yet he remains silent, simply turning and leaving my nest. I narrow my eyes as the door thuds shut behind him.
“You like pushing buttons, don’t you?” Abraxis teases, drawing me into a warm embrace. The deep, resonant rumble of his drake—a vibration that settles something deep within me—brings a small sigh of relief.
“No more than he enjoys doing it to me,” I reply with a playful arch of my brow, meeting his amused gaze.
“Oh, calm down, Brax. Mina did exactly what you would have done if you were in her place,” Ziggy chimes in with a light laugh. He holds up an odd little knickknack. It’s a curious trinket etched with intricate designs. I gesture for him to toss it out the sliding glass door. With a swift motion and a cheeky wink, he complies.
“Does everything feel better now?” Abraxis asks, studying my face for any lingering sign of discomfort.
I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, letting the cool air fill my lungs as I stretch my senses across every inch of my space. In those quiet, closed-eye moments, every creak of the floor, every whisper of wind against the window becomes an extension of myself. Satisfied that nothing is amiss, I open my eyes and murmur, “Everything is okay now.” A contented smile curves my lips, reassured that my sanctuary is secure once more.
Ziggy moves to lock the front door—the click of the bolt echoing in the stillness—then returns with his hands extended. “Let’s go home,” he whispers. I take his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. Within seconds, as our hands remain clasped, we phase back to my nest, the familiar contours of home gradually materializing around us.
Back in the living room, I find Cora and Warwick with their baby seated on the couch alongside the others. “Hey, little man,” I coo softly, and the baby’s eyes light up as he reaches for me with innocent eagerness.
“Oof, settle down, William—Auntie Mina will pick you up,” Cora teases with a gentle laugh as she passes the squirming bundle to me.
I cradle William in my arms and rock him slowly, the rhythmic motion a soothing balm in the quiet room. His tiny hand pats gently against the soft fabric of my blouse, and he instinctively attempts to latch on, as if seeking dinner. “Whoa, little man, those don’t work,” I giggle, carefully adjusting his position and swaying with him in a tender, timeless dance.
“We were coming to invite you to dinner with us in the compound—in the main kitchen area,” Cora explains with a warm smile as she watches me cradle her son like the most precious treasure. “Mom is taking over the kitchen tonight to cook, and she wants our nests to blend together.”
I turn to Klauth, tilting my head ever so slightly. “Can we?” I ask, my tone taking on a devilishly playful lilt as I lean in with the baby still in my arms. I glance up at him from beneath long, fluttering eyelashes. “Please?” I pucker my lower lip in a silent plea, fully aware of how difficult it is for him to resist my requests.
Klauth leans forward and presses a lingering kiss to my forehead, his warm breath a soft caress against my skin. “If that will make you happy, then we shall go,” he whispers. I smile and lift my face to meet him, returning his kiss with gentle affection.
