Page 30 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
“Kill or be killed—that is how I trained you,” my father’s voice rumbles, deep and cutting, as he swings again.
My muscles strain as I meet him blow for blow. Both swords in my hands clash against his relentless assault. His strikes are calculated, brutal, meantto overwhelm, but I hold my ground. Then a sound—a thunderous roar—rips through the chaos, vibrating in my bones. Something massive is coming.
My father smirks, feinting with one blade and knocking the other from my hand. Desperation claws at my chest as he works to disarm me completely. Where are my mates? I glance around frantically, my eyes catching glimpses of battles raging in the skies above. Wyverns and green dragons swarm, tearing through the academy in coordinated destruction.
I grit my teeth, my grip tightening on my remaining sword, but it’s not enough. My father disarms me with a final, brutal strike. The blade clatters to the ground, and I’m left vulnerable. He towers over me, raising his sword high for the killing blow.
My last thoughts aren’t of fear, but of my mates—Abraxis, Callan, Vaughn, Leander—and the eggs under Iris’s care. My heart clenches. I can’t die. Not yet.
A monstrous roar splits the air, shaking the very ground beneath me. Fire blazes across the sky, searing my father’s arm and forcing him to drop his weapon. He snarls, spinning to face the threat. I follow his gaze, and my breath catches as a massive, scarred red dragon descends, his fiery presence commanding the battlefield.
Klauth.
My father hesitates, then turns tail, shifting into his smaller green dragon form and taking to the skies. He flees, wings beating furiously as Klauth gives chase, his roar a promise of vengeance. I collapse to my knees, trembling but alive, my chest heaving as relief and awe flood through me.
Klauth came for me. He hatched for me.
I jolt awake, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, my chest heaving. My heart pounds like it’s trying to escape my ribcage, my breaths shallow and uneven. This isn’t just a nightmare—it’s a vision. A future I can’t avoid. Before the third year, Abraxis will be called away again, and I’ll almost die. Klauth will hatch early to save me. But if Klauth hatches, so does Thauglor? Two ancient cursed dragons at once—how am I supposed to handle that?
My hands tremble as I push myself out of bed. I need to clear my head. Stumbling into the bathroom, I let the cool water of the shower wash over me, rinsing away the sweat and the crushing weight of what I’ve seen. I can’t let my mate’s sense this. Not yet. They’d fight the vision, but fate doesn’t bend for anyone, no matter how powerful.
Twenty minutes later, I’m clean and dry, but the tension clings to me like a second skin. My muscles ache, my head spins, and my heart refuses to settle. It’s too early to be awake, but I can’t lie there any longer.
I step into the dim hallway, moving silently as I check on them one by one. Callan’s door creaks as I push it open. He’s curled up in his gryphon form, golden feathers illuminated faintly in the moonlight, nestled in his carefully arranged nest. Relief floods through me. He’s safe.
Vaughn’s door is next. I nudge it open to find him sprawled on his stomach, completely naked, snoring softly. The sound is comforting, familiar. He shifts slightly in his sleep, lets out a small fart, and chuckles. Even unconscious, he’s ridiculous. I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch into a smile. He’s safe too.
Abraxis’s room is dimly lit, the faint glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows. He’s slumped in his recliner, files scattered across hislap. My chest tightens at the sight of him. He’s always working, always carrying the weight of this fractured world on his shoulders. Gently, I gather the papers, stacking them neatly on the table, and drape a blanket over him. With a soft click, I recline the chair so he can rest more comfortably. He doesn’t stir. He deserves this moment of peace.
Finally, I reach Leander’s room. The door groans softly as I push it open. He’s on his side, the blanket slipping low, exposing the chiseled lines of his chest. Even in sleep, he’s breathtaking, the faint moonlight accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the softness of his mouth. I hesitate, my fingers curling around the doorframe. My bed feels like a tomb tonight, and I can’t face the emptiness alone.
Carefully, I climb into his bed, slipping under the throw blanket draped at the foot. I settle close, but not too close, my hand brushing lightly against his back. His scent—crisp and cold, like a winter storm—envelops me, calming the chaos swirling in my chest.
Maybe, just maybe, I can steal a few hours of sleep before the world demands more from me. My eyes drift shut, and for the first time tonight, I let myself breathe.
I’m warm. Safe.
The thought drifts lazily through my mind as I stir, caught somewhere between sleep and waking. Last night was a blur, reality tangled with visions so tightly I’m not sure which was which—or if I’m even awake now. Strong arms encircle me, holding me as though I’m the most precious thing in existence. The weight of them, the heatof the body pressed against mine, feels grounding. Reassuring. Exactly what I need.
I snuggle closer, sighing as I melt into the warmth. My dragoness purrs softly, a rare hum of contentment. It smells like winter—fresh snow, the sharp, clean bite of cold air first thing in the morning. The scent pulls me back to memories of winters spent in fleeting peace. When survival didn’t mean running, hiding, fighting. For a moment, I let myself savor it.
A kiss lands gently on my shoulder, and my lips twitch into a soft smile. I roll over slowly, keeping my eyes closed as I tilt my head back, offering. Pillow-soft lips meet mine, and everything else melts away. Muscular arms tighten around me, pulling me against a firm, warm chest. I reach up, my fingers tangling in thick, silky hair, anchoring him to me as if letting go will wake me from this dream.
I don’t know which of my mates this is—dream or otherwise—but I don’t care. The connection is intoxicating. My dragoness stays quiet, calm, letting me have this moment without interference. Her silence is almost as strange as my serenity, but for now, I’m grateful.
The weight of him pressing me into the mattress—a comforting presence, firm but gentle. His lips move against mine, unhurried, his touch a balm to the chaos of my usual thoughts. Whoever this mate is, he’s careful, just enough weight to ground me, making me feel safe.
“Mina…” His voice is soft, pulling me out of the haze.
I murmur a faint response, letting my hands fall from his shoulders, my head rolling to the side as I chase comfort. “Hmm…”
“Mina…” His tone is more insistent now, a thread of urgency woven through it.
“Hmm?” I pry one eye open, then rub them both, a yawn slipping past my lips as I slowly come to. My voice is drowsy, edged with confusion. “Hey, Leander. What are you doing in my bed?”
He chuckles softly, the sound warm and low as he rolls off of me. “You’re inmybed, babe.” His lips brush against my cheek, light as a whisper. “I was kinda shocked to find you in my arms this morning.” He follows it with a kiss to my shoulder, pulling me back against his chest.
With my back pressed to his warmth, I scan the room, trying to piece things together. Sure enough—his space, not mine. “Huh.” I huff a breath, incredulous. “When did I get here?” My hands slide over his, wrapping around his arms where they cross over my chest.
