Page 39 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
When I uncover her eyes, she gasps audibly, the sound soft but sharp. He towers over her, his presence both commanding and calm. His hazel eyes shift to the molten silver of his dragon’s, the change instantaneous and mesmerizing. The air between them crackles, a tension both electric and primal.
Stepping to the side, I watch Cora, my lips curling into a smile. “Shift your eyes,” I urge, my voice low and steady. “Let your dragoness rise. I’ll protect you.” She nods, and I feel it the moment her dragoness stirs—the tether of the bond sparking to life between them. It’s like a current in the air, a subtle yet undeniable shift. I kiss her templeand glance over her shoulder to meet Vox’s gaze before addressing Cora again. “Go dance with your mate.” I guide her hand into Warrick’s, the contact sending another ripple of energy through the room. He leads her onto the dance floor, their steps slow and tentative at first.
Attor moves to follow them, his expression dark and stormy, but Abraxis intercepts him, forcing him back toward the table. “What is the meaning of this? We had a deal!” Attor’s voice is sharp, his anger palpable.
As much as I want to speak, this is not my battle. Vox flexes his wings, the clicking of his claws echoing ominously as he glares at Attor. “A true mating trumps a betrothal. That is the law,” he states, his tone brooking no argument.
“Your son got his betrothed,” Attor sneers, venom dripping from his words.
Balor steps forward, the gleam of his sunglasses momentarily catching the light as he lowers them. “They have the same scent, you idiot. Only in true mate situations do their scents merge. With betrothals, the pair retains their own scents.” He rolls his eyes, his tone dripping with exasperation as I motion for him to keep an eye on Cora and Warrick.
“I demand the chance to meet the female who is supposed to be mine,” Attor says, his gaze scanning the dance floor, his frustration evident.
Abraxis moves behind me, his presence grounding and protective as he wraps his arms around me, pulling my back flush against his chest. The heat of his body seeps into mine, his wings brushing lightly against my shoulders. “I will have one of my nest mates ask my sister if she wishes to meet you. If she refuses, that is the end of the discussion.”His tone is calm but unyielding. He nods at Ziggy, who vanishes in a blur, only to return moments later, his face crimson.
“Um … She’s busy at the moment,” Ziggy stammers, making a childish hand gesture that leaves no doubt about what he means.
“Oh, my…” My hands fly to my face as I stifle a laugh, my shoulders shaking with silent mirth. “I’ll take that as a no—she’s not interested.” I glance up at Abraxis, whose expression is a mix of disbelief and trauma. His reaction only makes it harder to hold back my laughter.
The whole idea of his innocent baby sister completing her mating bond so quickly has Abraxis making the most uncomfortable face I’ve ever seen. His jaw tightens, a flicker of distaste crossing his features as though he’s just bitten into something sour.
“Tomorrow, when they surface, I will arrange something,” Vox says, his deep, authoritative tone vibrating in the air as he crosses his arms over his chest. The resemblance between him and Abraxis is uncanny—not just in looks, but in that same unyielding, take-no-shit attitude.
“We had a deal!” Attor’s shrill yell slices through the room again, a high-pitched wail of desperation that has heads turning before security drags him off. His footsteps scrape against the marble floor, echoing until he’s out of sight.
Sighing, I turn in Abraxis’s arms, the warmth of his chest grounding me as I tilt my head back to look up at him. His dark, sharp gaze is unreadable, but the tension in his grip gives away his unease. “He’s going to be trouble,” I murmur, my gut twisting in warning. A faint prickle dances along my spine, the kind that only comes when danger is imminent.
“The bad part is he works for the academy. He’s one of the counselors.” Abraxis runs a hand down his face, his fingers draggingslightly against his skin as if trying to wipe away the stress. His exhale is heavy, carrying the faintest scent of smoke and cedar, an unintentional giveaway of his drake’s agitation.
“As long as I don’t need anything, it shouldn’t be an issue,” I say, forcing a smile that feels brittle even to me. My gaze shifts to the rest of my mates gathered at the table by Cerce, their quiet conversations and subtle glances doing little to ease my unease.
Abraxis takes my hand and leads me onto the dance floor. The polished surface gleams under the chandelier’s dim, golden glow, and the soft hum of violins fills the space as he guides me into a slow waltz. His hand at my waist is firm, his movements fluid and deliberate. “I’m still trying to figure out how the ambush drake got the cursed egg in the first place,” he whispers, leaning in close. His lips graze the sensitive skin just below my ear, his breath warm and feather-light. “There’s only three people able to get into that chamber.”
The scales along my spine shift uneasily, a faint, rippling sensation beneath my skin that never fails to put me on edge. Someone in a position of leadership at the academy is aiding the fire drakes and ambush drakes—betrayal buried within the very heart of this place. The air feels heavier with the thought, the faint scent of wax and smoke from the ballroom’s candles seeming to cling to my senses.
“Let’s worry about it tomorrow,” I murmur, my voice softer now as I look up at him. His eyes, already dark, shift—the molten gold of his dragon’s gaze bleeding into his irises. A shiver races down my spine, though this time, it’s not unease. “I miss my mate, and I finally have him in my arms again,” I add, tilting my head slightly, a subtle invitation.
A slow, deliberate smile spreads across his lips, his teeth gleaming faintly in the dim light. He pulls me hard against his chest, the rumble of his purr vibrating through me. His scent deepens, smoky and musky, mingling with the faint trace of leather from his armor. I can feel his drake stirring beneath his skin, its hunger matching my own.
“Dad, we’re leaving...” Abraxis calls as we dance past his parents’ table. Vox glances up, a knowing smirk playing at his lips as he gives a casual wave. Before I can process it, Abraxis scoops me into his arms, his strength effortless, and launches us into the air. The rush of cold night wind hits my face as we soar through the open skylight. The stars above glitter like shards of glass, the moon casting its pale glow over the academy below, and for a moment, it feels like we’re the only two beings in the world.
We land on the balcony that leads to our nest, the rush of wind still crackling in my ears. The sharp scent of ozone from the flight lingers, mingling with the faint sweetness of blossoms climbing the stone walls. Abraxis is already wrestling with his armor, the sound of leather straps and metal buckles grating against his movements.
I laugh, stepping into our space, the cool night air brushing over my exposed skin as I shrug free from the dress. The fabric pools at my feet, leaving the cling of fashion tape and the sticky bra like unwelcome ghosts on my skin. They’ve done their job, but now they pull and pinch as I try to peel them away.
Before I can finish, Abraxis’s arms sweep me up, his grip firm, almost possessive, and I squeal as he bolts toward his bedroom. The sound of our laughter and my surprised cry fills the room, echoing faintlyagainst the high ceilings before we crash onto the bed. The mattress dips under our combined weight, and I feel the faint scrape of his claws tearing into the sheets beneath us.
“Mine…” His voice resonates with a primal edge, his dragon’s tones layering over his words, vibrating through the air like a low growl. The sound alone makes my blood heat, a flush spreading from my chest to my fingertips. His drake misses me as much as I miss him, the intensity of it crackling between us like a storm.
Before I can respond, his teeth sink into my throat, finding the mate mark that spans the entirety of the front of my neck. The sharp sting is quickly swallowed by a surge of pleasure, the electric sensation sending a shudder through my body. His wings unfurl, the leathery texture brushing my bare skin before they cocoon us, their weight pressing down and grounding me in the moment. The scent of him—smoky, wild, and distinctly Abraxis—floods my senses, drowning out everything else.
Pinned beneath him, I shift under his weight, my hands roaming over the taut muscles of his back. The faint warmth of his skin under my palms feels alive, pulsing with the same intensity that burns in my veins. I’ve learned not to wait for permission to touch him, and he growls softly as I guide him, aligning him with me.
The moment he surges forward, sinking deeply into me, I gasp, the fullness of him igniting every nerve ending. My core clenches, already pulsing with anticipation, the tension coiling tighter with each rolling stroke. His movements are deliberate, unrelenting, each thrust drawing me closer to the edge.
He’s everywhere—his presence flooding my senses, his touch electric on my skin, his heartbeat pounding in time with mine. I feel him not just in my body but in my soul, the bond between us thrumming withancient power. My blood feels molten, as though fire courses through my veins, and when my orgasm crashes over me, it’s like an inferno. Every touch, every sound, every scent amplifies the moment, leaving me trembling beneath him, utterly consumed.
We come down from our high, our breaths mingling in the charged air as my heart pounds against my ribs. I nestle into Abraxis’s arms, the lingering warmth of his skin a soothing balm against my own. His hand brushes my throat gently, the faint sting of fresh wounds grounding me in the present. The metallic tang of my blood lingers faintly in the air, sharp yet strangely intoxicating. He leans down and licks the marks, his tongue rough like sandpaper yet tender as he heals me.
