Page 32 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
I guide Mina carefully toward her apartment; her steps slow and unsteady. Once inside, I wrap my arms around her, tucking her head beneath mine. She feels small in my hold, fragile in a way I’m not used to. “Whatever this vision is, it’s intense,” I murmur, my voice low.
“Any clue what it might be about?” Vaughn asks from the couch, his posture deceptively relaxed. Across from him, Iris sits precariously, doing her best to shield the two cursed eggs she’s guarding.
“None. She stopped mid-fight and zoned out,” I reply, pulling Mina onto my lap. My hold tightens around her, as if I can shield her from whatever’s tormenting her mind.
Her gasp breaks the tense silence, and she shakes her head, disoriented. “How did we get here?” Her wide eyes lock onto mine, seeking answers I don’t have. I arch a brow in response, and her shoulders slump in defeat.
With a sigh, Mina slides free of my arms and starts pacing the small room. “My father,” she begins, her voice strained. “He’s behind the wyvern attacks. This is the second vision I’ve had of him orchestratingthem. The first was toward the end of this year.” She pauses, rubbing her temples as though she can physically push away the images. “The one today … Abraxis sees him fleeing from the attack with several other green dragons. It happens sometime today.”
Her pacing grows more frantic, her fingers brushing her hair back as if the act will ground her. I stay seated, my gaze fixed on her, my hands curled into fists. The revelation sits like a weight in my chest. If her father is behind this, it’s not just a fight—it’s personal.
Abraxis returns not long after dinner starts, nearly three hours after Mina’s vision, his face a mask of grim purpose. As expected, he relays every detail of what she predicted, right down to the smallest nuance. We gather around the dinner table, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension, dissecting what her two visions could mean. Mina sits curled up in Abraxis’s lap, fussing over him in a way that feels almost foreign to me. The way she is with him—soft, doting—is so different from how she is with me, and I can’t help but study the contrast.
A yawn breaks through Abraxis’s stoic demeanor. Mina seizes on it immediately, dragging him toward the larger bathroom off of the shared living space. My eyes follow them until the door clicks shut. I tilt my head, letting my thoughts churn over everything I’ve seen and heard tonight.
“They’re not telling us the whole truth,” I say, breaking the silence. My gaze shifts to Callan, then slides to Vaughn, gauging their reactions.
“What do you mean?” Callan’s voice is sharp, curiosity tinged with worry as he leans closer. Balor moves with him, his presence grounding as always, until the four of us are close enough to touch.
“Abraxis has a tell,” I explain, tapping the corner of my right eye. “When he’s hiding something, there’s a faint tick right here. And Mina … she snuggles in close when she’s trying to obscure the truth. She can’t lie or even withhold information if she’s looking someone directly in the eye. So, she compensates by burying herself against him.” My words hang in the air, weighty and sharp. “Whatever this vision is—the one set to happen at the end of the year—they’re keeping something from us.”
My eyes drift to the eggs resting on the table, their presence both mesmerizing and ominous. I nod toward them, letting the implication sink in. “I think the eggs are connected. One or both of them. Whatever they’re hiding, it ties back to those.”
When I look back at Callan and Vaughn, their expressions are nearly identical—strained, a mix of dread and frustration. Vaughn’s usual calm is cracked, and Callan looks ready to lash out, though he reins it in with visible effort.
Balor lets out a low exhale, his jaw tight. “Two more dragons in the nest…” He doesn’t finish the thought, but we’re all thinking the same thing.
“Volatile doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I mutter, my gaze lingering on the closed bathroom door. Interesting times, indeed.
Almost thirty minutes later, Mina steps out of the bathroom, guiding Abraxis behind her. He’s wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, his body a canvas of fresh, angry scars, and dark bruises. Several large ones span his torso and shoulder, and the sight is enough to send a shiverthrough me. Mina’s eyes betray her worry, deep and raw, and it twists something inside me. She’s not just concerned; she’s scared. Scared for him in a way that makes it clear how deeply their bond runs. Without a word, she leads him into his room, closing the door softly behind her.
I shake my head and glance back at the others. The silence among us is heavy, weighted with the sight of Abraxis like this. It’s sobering. Usually, he walks away from battles without so much as a scratch. But whatever this was, it left its mark. At dinner, he’d played it off like it was nothing, but we all knew better. The four of us sit in a muted hush, each lost in our thoughts, processing what we saw. Abraxis looked vulnerable for once. It’s unsettling.
“He never complains,” Balor says, breaking the silence. His voice is low, almost reflective. “Not once in all the years I’ve known him.” His eyes drift to Abraxis’s door just as Mina reappears. She doesn’t say a word, just heads to the kitchen, grabs a bowl of soup, and disappears back into the room.
“She’s a good mate…” Callan exhales, his voice tinged with something like admiration. “I remember this female Abraxis used to, well,blow off steamwith. He was injured in a war, and she didn’t even lift a finger to help him. Instead, she complained that their time together was ruined.” He gestures to the closed door where Mina vanished. “Mina’s birthday is tomorrow, and she hasn’t said a damn word to anyone about it.”
“Her birthday?” I glance up, brows knitting together. “I thought her birthday was during the Winter Formal?” I pull out my phone, scrolling to the calendar app. The date doesn’t line up. Her birthday is two weeks before the event, entirely separate.
Callan nods, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Lysander moved the ball up last year because green dragons are volatile when they firstshift. They didn’t want a lethal female flying loose, raising hell because the shift caught her off guard.”
“So, what are we doing for her?” Vaughn finally asks, breaking his own contemplative silence. His gaze sweeps over the suite, his expression thoughtful.
“Dinner in town tomorrow night,” Callan says, glancing at the day planner mounted on the wall. “And during the day, we’re splitting the time evenly between all of us. You too, Balor. You’re her best friend, after all.”
Balor flinches at the words. Just a subtle shift, but it’s enough. The mention of beingfriend zonedstings, no matter how hard he tries to mask it.
Callan steps up to the planner and switches it to tomorrow’s date. With quick, decisive movements, he assigns each of us a two-hour block of time. He starts with himself first thing in the morning. Dinner is marked off for all of us, and the block after dinner is simply labeledLadies’ Choice. Balor remains quiet, but I can tell he’s wrestling with something. I can feel it, even without looking at him.
While Callan irons out the times with the others, I step away to handle the logistics. My fingers fly over the screen as I call the restaurant, securing a private room for the nest. The reservation is set, discreet and exclusive—just how it needs to be. Afterward, I draft a message for Abraxis, detailing the schedule breakdown and the dinner information. I set it as a delayed send, timed perfectly for when Mina will be out with Callan for the day. Everything in one neat package, because I know how he gets if things aren’t clear.
Next, I tackle his schedule. It’s a mess, as usual. I clear out every nonessential obligation, so he’s completely free to spend the day with the family. Mina’s birthday falling on a Saturday is a stroke of luck. Ifit had landed on a weekday, juggling this would’ve been nearly impossible. Two instructors and a teacher in her nest—coordinating around that many authority figures isn’t easy, even for me.
My gaze drifts to the eggs, lined up in their protective shells, almost humming with an otherworldly energy. There’s an hour before dinner, and Mina has nothing scheduled. A thought strikes me, unbidden but insistent. I mark the time for her to spend with the eggs. It feels right. Odd, maybe, but there’s something about it that resonates, a subtle nudge from the shadows I’ve long since learned to trust.
Satisfied, I lock my phone and glance back toward the others. Everything is in place. Now all that’s left is execution.
CHAPTER 19
