Page 65 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
“But?” I arch a brow, feeling as if I’m trying to pry open a crocodile’s mouth with a toothpick. The tension in the room is palpable.
“We’re honestly not sure how he’s still alive. He’s lost a lot of blood, punctured a lung, and we’re uncertain if his dragon will ever fly again.” He glances down briefly, his eyes haunted by the weight of his words. “The second bolt almost severed his left wing, as if it was aimed that way on purpose.”
His words strike me like a blow, the air rushing from my lungs in a painful gasp. Death, in its brutal finality, might have been kinder than a life spent watching our skies instead of flying. It is a fate worse than any I can imagine. “Where are Ziggy and Vaughn?”
“Sitting with Abraxis’s parents,” Leander offers quietly, his voice heavy with the same sorrow that grips us all.
My eyes dart between Balor and Leander as I decide, the weight of it settling heavily on my shoulders. “Balor, please stay with Mina. Leander, let’s go check on Abraxis.” Balor nods solemnly and slips back into Mina’s chambers, the door closing softly behind him. The walk to check on the youngling feels like stepping in front of a firing squad—each step heavy with the burden of impending consequence.The air is thick with the scent of blood and the hum of urgent voices. Abraxis’s decision may have cost him everything, and I can only hope it hasn’t cost us all. The thought is a cold, sickening weight in the pit of my stomach.
Several hours crawlby as I sit vigilant in the makeshift infirmary, my senses assaulted by the surrounding chaos. The room pulses with hushed voices and the soft pad of hurried footsteps against the cold tile floor. My nostrils burn with the sterile, chemical bite of disinfectant that cannot mask the metallic tang of blood hanging thick in the air. Across from me, Vox cradles Cerce’s limp form, his knuckles white with strain. While Warwick supports Cora, her head lolling against his shoulder. Their faces are carved masks of shock and sorrow—eyes hollow, jaws clenched tight enough that I can almost hear their teeth grinding.
We’ve already relayed what happened to Mina. The weight of disbelief presses down on us like a physical presence. It makes the air dense and difficult to breathe, a suffocating fog that clogs my lungs with each labored intake.
“Even the strongest iron dragons can’t survive a direct hit by a bolt,” Vox declares, his voice cracking like brittle glass. The raw mixture of awe and despair in his tone scrapes against my nerves. The words seem to vibrate through the room, settling heavy in my gut like stones.
Leander’s phone pings, the cheerful electronic tone jarringly inappropriate against our grim setting. He swipes quickly, then turns the screen toward Abraxis’s family. I watch intently as blood drains from their faces in real time, leaving behind a sickly pallor that makes the overhead fluorescents seem even harsher. Their eyes widen, pupilsdilating with silent horror that no words could capture. The collective, sharp intake of breath is deafening in the stillness. The enormous bruises testament to her surviving the impossible.
I have my suspicions about why Mina has become what she is now. The first is that having a great wyrm as a mate transformed her dragoness when we exchanged bites—a fiery, unspoken pact that scorched through her veins and altered her very core. Somehow rewriting ancient code embedded in her DNA. The second reason is far darker. When she was murdered by her father, something essential inside her shattered beyond repair. Now, she moves through the world built like a flying fortress, every muscle taut beneath her skin, eyes constantly scanning for threats. Her inner dragoness no longer dares to feel safe, not even for a moment.
I can’t blame her for that fear. It’s unthinkable—males hunting a female driven solely by their twisted desire for power. Yet someone tried to shoot my mate down today, tried to extinguish the very light that gives me reason to continue this torturous existence. My chest constricts painfully at the thought, making each heartbeat a struggle.
My eyes drift to Abraxis’s family, their faces contorted with grief. Their despair mirrors my silent dread, a reflection so perfect it makes my skin crawl. I wonder, as cold sweat beads along my spine, if the worst is yet to come. How will we help Mina keep her will to live? She has other mates, including myself, but he was her first, her cornerstone. The foundation upon which she built her new life. And as much as Abraxis can be a prick, with his cutting remarks and arrogant posturing. Mina’s love for him burns fierce and bright, a tangled web of loyalty and pain that I can see written in every line of her body when she speaks his name.
CHAPTER 36
Mina
I lie here beside Abraxis,his life dangling by a fragile thread, while a damp chill of fear and hope clings to the air. The scent of antiseptic and herbs mingling with the metallic tang of blood. My fingertips trace the cool, uneven contours of his skin as I desperately hold on to his body, feeling the faint warmth that still lingers beneath the surface. “You can’t leave me,” I whisper, my breath warm against his ear. The words are a desperate plea as I press a soft kiss on his bruised cheek, the skin rough, and tender beneath my lips.
Callan’s voice breaks through the quiet gloom, a beacon of light in the darkness. “Mina, you need to eat,” he says, ushering in a tray laden with food. The dishes clattering softly as he sets it down. The room is filled with the simmering aroma of bone broth. The scent curls through the air like a comforting embrace. I scan the tray until my eyes catch a bowl perched on the side, the liquid within a rich, golden hue. “Did you bring the bone broth?” I ask, my voice wavering, the words sticking in my throat.
“Yes, and the dropper like you asked,” he replies, carefully setting the tray on the scarred bedside table, the wood worn and smoothbeneath his hands. With gentle urgency, Callan helps me reposition Abraxis, whose body is marred by multiple surgical sites. The bandages stark are a white against his pale skin. Every cautious movement releases a faint scent of medicine and sweat, each moment weighted with the silent promise of hope.
Once I am satisfied with his new position, I take the dropper and administer tiny sips of bone broth past his parched lips; the liquid glistening in the dim light. “I’ll feed you while you feed him—deal?” Callan offers as my other mates slip quietly into the room, their footsteps muffled on the soft carpet. The rich, savory scent of steak fills the air as Callan theatrically waves a hunk of meat in my face, the juices dripping onto the floor. My stomach rumbles with hunger. Reluctantly, I bite into it, the hearty flavor a brief respite as I raise the dropper again to Abraxis’s closed mouth, the glass cool against his skin.
“He should have woken up by now,” Leander murmurs softly, his tone both gentle and mournful. The words hanging heavily in the air. A low growl builds within me, a primal sound that vibrates through my chest. I fix him with a determined stare, my eyes blazing with fierce resolve. “He needs time. He will wake up—he doesn’t have a choice.” I close my eyes, focusing on the deep, shared bond between us, feeling the tender threads that connect our souls. I pour every ounce of my will into him, willing him to come back to me. For a fleeting moment, I sense his heart shift its rhythm—a tentative staccato of hope.
“Mina, the doctor said if he doesn’t wake up in a week, he won’t,” Klauth warns, his words heavy with resignation. The sound grating against my ears. I feel a burning anger rise within me, a surge of protective instinct that sets my blood on fire, as if my very skin were rising with defiant scales. “He will wake up, even if I have to drag him back from the brink myself. Null will not take him from me—he will wait his turn to hold him.” I gaze at his slack face in the half-light, tracing the elegant lines of his features with my eyes. In thatfragile moment, I swear I see a tear glimmer at the corner of his eye, a silent plea for help.
“He’s strong, a fighter. If anyone can cheat death, it’s Abraxis,” Balor asserts confidently as he takes a plate from Callan and offers me a chunk of steak. The rich, iron tang of the steak mingles with my anxiety as I reluctantly accept it. The flavor bursts on my tongue, a momentary distraction from the pain that grips my heart.
I close my eyes and press both my hands against his chest, feeling the faint, irregular throb of his heart beneath my palms. “Null will not have you,” I murmur, channeling every ounce of my shared vitality into him, willing my strength to become his. Even with seven mates sharing our life force, I know I have more power than any other living dragoness. I will spare every bit for my wounded love, a sacrifice I make willingly.
As fatigue sets in, a heavy weight that settles in my bones. I pull my hands away and resume feeding him the nourishing broth, the liquid warm and soothing as it slides down his throat. Every drop feels like a silent promise, a vow that I won’t give up on Abraxis until he chooses to. Until he returns to me or slips away forever. Even the doctors marvel at his unlikely survival, their eyes wide with disbelief. But I refuse to surrender, my determination as unyielding as the scales that line my spine.
A sharp knock at the door shatters the quiet, the sound jarring and loud in the stillness. Vox, Cerce, Warwick, and half a dozen familiar dragons from our flights stand in the doorway, their expressions etched with concern, their eyes filled with a shared sorrow. “Klauth told us of an ancient rite of benefaction—our essence can heal another,” Vox says, his gaze softening as he looks at his son. The lines of his face deepening with grief.
Klauth steps to my side, resting a steady hand on my shoulder, his touch a grounding presence in the chaos. “It’s our last hope, my treasure,” he murmurs, kissing the crown of my head before Vox takesBalor’s seat opposite me. The chair creaks beneath his weight. “I gift my son a spark of my essence so he can return to us,” Vox declares as he lays his hands on Abraxis’s bare chest. I feel a cool surge of energy pass into him—a silent current that sends shivers down my spine.
“Come back, my precious boy,” Cerce whispers as she places her hands on him, her voice thick with unshed tears. One by one, each dragon who has crossed Abraxis’s path bestows a spark of life. With every gift, I feel his strength growing. Tears well in my eyes as I watch his battered body absorb the healing essence, the sight of a miracle unfolding before me.
When the last dragon departs, their footsteps fading into the distance. Klauth sits across from me, his eyes soft but determined as he surveys Abraxis, taking in the full extent of his injuries. “We don’t always see eye to eye, Abraxis,” he breathes. A trace of regret in his tone, the words heavy with unspoken emotion. “But one thing is clear: keeping you safe for, Mina, is what matters most.” He tilts his head and sighs, the sound weary and resigned. “I gift you a spark of my essence. Return to our mate; she is grieving herself to death over you.”
My heart clenches as I look up at him. My eyes are wide with a mix of gratitude and disbelief, and I whisper, “You gave him more than a spark.” Klauth’s hands move over Abraxis’s chest, his touch gentle and sure. I feel a powerful surge ripple through him, a current of energy that takes my breath away. My eyes widen in shock.
“We need you, Mina. If preserving Abraxis’s life means sharing centuries with you, then sacrificing a few years is a small price,” Klauth declares, his voice steady and sure. Leaning over, he presses a tender kiss to my lips. The touch is soft and lingering, before leaving the room with a final nod, his footsteps echoing in the silence. I have been at Abraxis’s bedside for what feels like an eternity, the hours blending together in a haze of fear and hope.
I finish feeding Abraxis while my mates help reposition him. They gently turn him onto his side, elevating his head with care, and placing a soft pillow between his knees, the fabric cool and smooth against his skin. I curl up close, my head resting near his fragile chest as I listen to the soft, irregular beats of his heart.
