Page 16 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
The training field is set up with nine siege weapons this afternoon, most of which I already know inside and out. But there’s one unfamiliar design, and it immediately draws me in. I make a beeline for it, inspecting the launch mechanisms with a focused intensity.
“Did we finally find something you don’t know about?” Balor teases, his tone light as he leans casually on the wheel close to where I’m standing.
I glance at him, smirking faintly. “I’ve never seen this design before.” I gesture toward the strange contraption. Unlike the others, this one has a seat positioned between two forks instead of a cradle for launching projectiles.
“It’s something I’ve been working on for the last ten years,” Abraxis says as he approaches, his deep voice stirring a warmth in my chest. Smiling, I abandon the siege weapon for a moment and dive into his arms, nuzzling against his chin before catching myself.
“What does it do?” Standing on my toes, I brush a kiss against the corner of his mouth, but I pull back quickly, remembering we aren’t alone. The weight of Balor’s amused gaze—and half the class—is enough to make me retreat.
“Cade, come here,” Abraxis calls, motioning for one of the students. Cade steps forward, looking a mix of curious and apprehensive. Abraxis gestures toward the seat. “Sit there.”
Cade obeys, bracing his feet against a board in front of him. With a deliberate motion, Abraxis pulls the lever. The machine springs to life, launching Cade high into the air. My breath catches as I watch him arc upward, shifting seamlessly into his dragon form once he’s high enough. He circles above us before landing smoothly.
“That’s brilliant!” I can’t contain the excitement in my voice. The possibilities whirl in my mind at lightning speed. “That’s a faster way to get fighters into position without being seen until it’s too late. It could change everything on the battlefield.”
Abraxis grins at my enthusiasm, his pride obvious. “That’s the plan. I’ve launched myself a few dozen times to ensure it’s safe.”
I freeze at that, staring up at him like he’s lost his mind. “You launched yourself?”
He meets my incredulous look with a calm shrug. “I never ask my men to do something I wouldn’t do myself.” When he puts it that way, it’s hard to argue. Still, the image of him flinging himself into the air is almost too much.
“I’ve got a different kind of battlefield for us to navigate tonight,” I say, shifting the topic. Abraxis raises a questioning brow, his mind clearly wandering somewhere completely inappropriate. “We were invited to dinner with Vaughn’s clan,” I clarify, my tone deadpan. “Apparently, some naga have been causing trouble during meals.”
His expression shifts, the wicked glint in his eyes sharpening. I know that look. He hates bullies with a passion, and the idea of confronting them probably sounds like dessert to him. The only reason Arista is still breathing is because of who her father is.
“Should be an adventure,” Abraxis says, his voice laced with amusement. “But first, we finish class. Then we’ll head over after we’ve changed.”
The grin he gives me is pure trouble, the kind that makes my pulse quicken and warns me he’s already scheming. Whatever happens tonight, it’s going to be anything but boring.
As promised, we finish class and head home to change. Vaughn goes on ahead, like always, slipping into the night without a word. I place Iris on top of the cursed eggs, her tiny weight a reassuring presence. “Are you ready?” I ask.
Abraxis leans against my doorframe, his finest fighting leathers clinging to his form, his wing-claws twitching in anticipation. “Lead on,” he says, flashing that wicked smile. He’s ready for this,thriveson the promise of confrontation.
I reach for his hand, but before we even make it out of the living room, he scoops me up effortlessly. My breath catches as we soar into thenight, the double doors of Malivore swinging closed behind us. “Cheater,” I murmur, the wind whipping my words away. “It’s the middle building where their food is kept.”
The flight is quick, a blur of darkened sky and twinkling lights as we head toward the cafeteria. When we land, I take his hand again, the cool leather of our matching attire grounding me. The mate marks on our throats glint faintly in the dim lighting, an unmistakable claim.
Abraxis follows me into the building, his steps languid but dangerous. The table comes into view—Vaughn sits with his clan, their presence quiet yet commanding. I step forward, my voice steady and loud enough to draw attention. “I want to introduce my other mate, Abraxis Havock.”
Standing between them, I can’t help but smile. The contrast between Vaughn’s silent strength and Abraxis’s unapologetic dominance is a balance I never realized I needed. The gargoyle clan lowers their heads in deference, their submission a soothing balm. I’m just starting to relax when I hear it: the unmistakable scrape of scales on tile.
“Leave our table,” a voice hisses, venom lacing every syllable. The head male naga glares, his eyes narrowing at Vaughn’s clan.
I glance at Abraxis, who chuckles, the sound low and menacing. “Who’s going to make me?” he asks, seating himself casually on the edge of the table, his boots propped on a chair like he owns the room.
“I’m not talking to you, dragon,” the naga sneers, coiling his tail tighter. “The pebbles-for-brains need to leave. This table is ours.” His tail rattles, a threat that falls pathetically short.
“That’s not happening,” I say, tilting my head as my hands shift.Silver talons extend, crackling with tiny arcs of lightning. I lock eyes with the naga and take a step forward, daring him to try something.
“Control your female before I do,” the naga snaps.
Fatal mistake.
Abraxis moves faster than I can, his hand wrapping around the naga’s throat and lifting him effortlessly. The naga writhes, his coils snapping up in a desperate attempt to fight back.
Before he can get a grip, I reach out and sink my talons into his scaled flesh, twisting just enough to draw blood. The scent fills the air, sharp, and metallic. “I have a bad habit of going into a rage when I’m threatened,” I say, my voice calm but cold. “I’ve already killed two ambush drakes with nothing but my talons. I won’t hesitate to add a naga—or an entire den of naga—to that list.”
Abraxis holds him for a moment longer, then drops him unceremoniously to the floor. The naga crumples, hissing in pain, and I retract my talons slowly, wiping the blood on my leathers before licking them clean. My dragon’s eyes surface, golden and glowing as I stare down at the rest of his nest.
