Page 93 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg
She approaches the skull in her garden, her footsteps nearly silent on the grass. She growls at it for a minute straight. The sound rumbling deep in her chest like distant thunder. Her stance is wide, confrontational, as if the skull might rise and challenge her. Finally, she turns to look at us, her golden eyes glowing in the dim light. “It looks wonderful. But what will I agree with?”
“Mate...” Thauglor starts and moves forward to take Mina’s hands in his. Her fingers look delicate against his massive palms, but I know the strength those slender hands possess. “We,” he pulls a hand away and waves it at Abraxis and me, “believe the anointing oil blocks a dragon’s ability to shift. Back before Klauth and I were captured, we could shift back and forth from the moment we hatched.” Thauglor drops the bomb, and we wait. The silence that follows is heavy, pressing against my eardrums like a physical force.
Mina’s eyes dart over to me, then back to Abraxis, then back to Thauglor. Each movement is quick and sharp, like a predator assessing threats. “I will rend the flesh from anyone that tries to anoint mychild. They’ll be scorched into a blackened splat on the floor.” Her growls get deeper, vibrating the very air around us. The rage she’s feeling is twisting her features, her canines lengthening visibly as she speaks. The scales along her throat rise, catching the dim light like polished metal.
The angrier she gets, the more Thauglor is smiling, his expression one of fierce pride. She screams her rage; the sound echoing off the stone walls and making my ears ring. She spreads her fingers, making a cage with them. A ball of lightning forms between her hands, crackling and spitting blue-white sparks that illuminate her face from below, casting strange shadows that make her look otherworldly. The hair on my arms stands on end as the electrical charge fills the room, making us take a collective step back. The scent of ozone fills the air, sharp, and tangy.
“When did that start happening?” I thought it was a one-off freak occurrence when she wielded lightning the last time. My voice sounds strangled even to my own ears, tension constricting my throat.
“After taking Thauglor as my mate,” Mina purrs, the sound a stark contrast to her previous rage. The lightning dissipates as quickly as it formed, leaving spots dancing in my vision. She dives into the male in question’s arms, her movements fluid and graceful. She throws her head back, smiling up at him, exposing the elegant column of her throat in a gesture of trust that makes something primal stir within me.
“Oh, and my descendant is cleared for flying again,” Thauglor says as he bends down to kiss Mina on her forehead. His lips linger there, a gesture of affection that seems at odds with his fearsome reputation.
“He is?” She squeals, the sound high and girlish compared to her earlier growls. She turns and dives into Abraxis’s arms, her body moving with an eagerness that makes my chest tighten with amixture of jealousy and affection. She immediately presses the bridge of her nose under his jaw, purring. The sound is soothing, vibrating through the air like a balm for frayed nerves. That is a welcomed sight. I wonder what changed.
“Come with me to stretch my wings?” he asks her as he kisses her temple, his breath disturbing the silver strands of her hair. Mina doesn’t answer; instead, she grabs his hand and starts to drag him out of the garden. Her enthusiasm is palpable, crackling around her like a tangible force.
Something makes her stop, a hesitation that ripples through her body like a wave. She waits for Abraxis to lead her out, her head tilting slightly to expose her neck to him. This change in behavior has Thauglor written all over it—his influence on her is unmistakable. I exchange a glance with him as they leave, his sapphire eyes glowing with satisfaction in the dim light.
As their footsteps fade, I turn back to the basilisk skull, its empty eye sockets seeming to mock me. The garden feels emptier without Mina’s presence, the air stiller, less charged. Thauglor moves to stand beside me, his massive frame blocking some of the chill that seeps in from the corridor.
“I’m guessingyou’ve been working with our mate?”
I may as well ask the question that is eating at me. The words taste like copper on my tongue, a mixture of curiosity and jealousy that I’m reluctant to admit even to myself. We head into what is now my office in the upper nest, our footsteps echoing against the polished stone floor. The room smells of leather-bound books, aged parchment,and the lingering scent of Mina—honey and lavender and ozone.
“I have,” Thauglor answers, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. He smirks, sapphire eyes glinting with satisfaction, and huffs a little as he moves to the minibar to pour himself a whiskey. The crystal decanter clinks against the glass as he pours the amber liquid, its rich, smoky aroma filling the space between us. “We talked at length the other night after we bonded.”
He shakes his head; the gesture seeming almost wistful, then looks back at me. “Her father did some real damage.” His voice drops lower, the words weighted with something dark and dangerous. “She takes control when she’s afraid. So when she tries to take control, we need to assess what may make her uneasy. We have two choices at that point—either fix it or walk her through it.” He says this calmly, as if discussing the weather rather than the psychological wounds of our shared mate.
“So it’s a stress reaction. She wasn’t allowed to be afraid, so instead of being afraid, she gets aggressive.” I lean forward in my leather chair, the material creaking beneath me as Thauglor offers me two fingers of whiskey. The glass is cool against my palm, a stark contrast to the heat that seems to perpetually radiate from my skin these days.
“Basically, that’s it in a nutshell.” He shrugs like it’s the simplest thing in the world, his massive shoulders rising and falling with the movement. The leather of his jacket stretches across his broad back, making a soft sound that’s almost lost beneath our breathing. “Just to let you know, my great wyrm gift is to see memories of others. So Mina let me see hers. It’s how I’ve been helping her.”
Taking the seat before my desk, he reclines slightly, the chair groaning under his weight. The scent of him—ancient stone, smoke, and something primal that speaks to the predator in me.
“Honestly, I’m not sure what mine is yet.” I tilt my head, looking at him. The sapphire eyes that have seen millennia come and go. Then I turn to stare at my drink in my hand, watching the way the light catches in the amber liquid, creating patterns like tiny flames.
“Besides commanding presence? I’d rather have that gift than to snoop in people’s memories.” Thauglor rolls his eyes, the gesture surprisingly human from one so ancient. Then he pauses, his entire body going still in that way predators do before they strike. The air in the room seems to thicken, charged with sudden purpose. “I need to get to Blackhaven. I can read Kai’s memories. Maybe I can find where that bastard of a father of Mina’s is hiding.”
Thauglor stands suddenly, the movement so swift that it disturbs the air, sending the scent of aged whiskey wafting toward me. His intention is obvious in every line of his body—he’s ready to hunt. Before he can race out of the office, Ziggy manifests in the room with a subtle shift in air pressure that makes my ears pop. The scent of his musk announces his arrival before he’s fully visible.
“Just the man we need,” I say, setting my glass down with a soft clink against the polished wood of my desk. “I want you to take Thauglor to Blackhaven to interrogate Kai. I’ll message Vox to let him know he’s on his way.”
Ziggy nods, his green eyes assessing the situation quickly. He extends a hand out to Thauglor. His slender fingers are a stark contrast to the ancient dragon’s massive hand.
“Closing your eyes helps with the nausea,” he advises, his voice light but carrying undertones of wariness. He takes Thauglor’s hand, and before Thauglor can speak, they are gone. The air rushes to fill the void where they stood, creating a soft whoosh that stirs the papers on my desk.
We’re one step closer to finding out where Abaddon is hiding. The whiskey burns pleasantly as I take a long swallow, warmthspreading through my chest. The other issue is figuring out what teachers are working against my young mate. I tap my fingers against the desk, the sound rhythmic and soothing as I think through the possibilities. The last piece of the puzzle is settling Thauglor in as the new headmaster, whether or not he wants it.
CHAPTER 54
Epilogue – Mina
It’s been almosta week since Thauglor has been going back and forth to Blackhaven. According to him, Kai is as easy to read as an open book. The thought brings a bitter smile to my lips as I pace the length of my chamber, the smooth stone cool beneath my bare feet. They know the region my father is hiding in. Unfortunately, it’s on another continent. The distance feels both relieving and frustrating—so far away, yet still not far enough. My fingers trail along the rough stone wall, catching on tiny imperfections that match the jagged edges of my thoughts.
Cora’s second baby hatched yesterday, and it’s another son. The memory of the tiny creature, scales gleaming like polished obsidian, makes my chest ache with longing. It makes me want my own even more now. The scent of the hatchling still clings to my clothes—new life, smoke, and something uniquely dragonic that calls to the most primal part of me. I need to resist that urge until at least winter break next school year. My talons extend involuntarily at the thought, scraping against the stone with a sound that makes my teeth clench.
Abraxis is healed now and can fly again. I watched him soar yesterday, his massive wings catching the afternoon light as he circled above our mountain home. Granted, it’s not as fast as it used to be, but at least the skies weren’t robbed from him. The relief I felt seeing him airborne again was so intense it brought tears to my eyes, the salt of them burning hot against my cheeks.
