Page 41 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
Mina remains motionless, her wings still spread wide, crackling with residual energy. The smell of ozone intensifies, thick and oppressive, until she roars—a sound that shakes the ground beneath us. The air hums with power as her breath weapon rips forward, searingthrough the space between her and Attor with a blinding burst of energy.
The sizzling impact is followed by a dull, bone-shaking thud as Attor’s dragon crashes to the ground, smoke rising from its charred scales. Mina lowers her wings slowly, her golden eyes locked on the smoldering beast. She growls low; the sound rumbling deep in her throat like an earthquake, her scales flaring to make her appear even larger and more menacing.
Vox steps out cautiously, the faint shuffle of his boots the only sound against the heavy silence. He approaches, his movements calm yet deliberate. “I don’t think he expected her to fight back,” Vox says, his tone laced with grim amusement as he pats Mina’s front leg. Abraxis follows him, his eyes scanning the downed dragon. Attor’s beast lies on its side, partially burned, each labored breath a rattling wheeze. Its eyes, wide with pain and disbelief, remain fixed on Mina’s dragoness.
“It’s okay, Mina. I think it’s over,” I say, stepping out from beneath her massive chest. My hand rests against her scaled neck, the heat of her body pulsing under my palm. She shakes her head slightly, her breath coming in sharp, shallow huffs.
But something’s still wrong. The tension in her form hasn’t eased, and her eyes remain sharp and scanning. The prickling air and faint hum of power tells me this isn’t finished—not yet.
“Can I check your scales?” I ask Mina, my voice steady despite the weight of everything that just happened. She’s watching Abraxis and Vox, who stand near Attor’s burned blue dragon. The acrid smell of scorched flesh and charred stone still hangs in the courtyard air, sharp and unrelenting.
Slowly, she lowers herself to the ground, her golden eyes glinting faintly in the torchlight. The rough scrape of her scales against thecobblestones echoes as she extends a wing for me to climb onto her back. Her tall frill stretches, catching the faint light of the moon, and I notice the scorch marks marring the leather. In several places, Attor’s lightning burned straight through the delicate membrane. Her emerald and silver scales, dulled by soot and blackened at the edges, shimmer faintly under the grime. The heat still radiates faintly from the burned spots as I run a cautious hand over them, the texture smooth in some places and jagged in others.
“If it’s just surface damage, will she lose it the next time she sheds?” I call down to Abraxis, glancing at him as the guards drag a newly shifted Attor to the dungeons. His feet scrape against the cobblestones, the sound oddly satisfying in its finality.
“Depends on how deep the burn goes. Dad, come look with me,” Abraxis says, gesturing for his father to join us.
The wind stirs as Abraxis climbs up with me, carrying the faint, bitter tang of blood and ash. Mina shifts slightly beneath us, her breathing calm but heavy, like she’s trying to contain the storm within.
“The way that hit looked, I would’ve thought there’d be more damage,” Vox says, his voice tinged with awe as he examines her. When Mina flexes her frill, the movement is subtle but deliberate, and Vox gasps.
“Oh, wow... He burned through in spots,” he murmurs, running his fingers lightly over the damaged edges. The leather feels fragile, thin in the places where it’s been eaten away by fire.
“Mina, can we check your wing leather?” Vox asks. Her massive wings unfurl slowly, the movement creating a soft, leathery rustle.
The difference between her wings and her frill is stark. Her wing leather gleams faintly, covered in a layer of tiny, intricate scales, whileher frill is bare and delicate in comparison. The scales catch the light like scattered stars, reflecting hues of emerald and silver.
“She shouldn’t have scales on her wings,” Abraxis says, leaning in closer, his voice tinged with confusion.
“Why?” I ask, frowning. The idea of her wings lacking armor seems absurd.
“Scales are heavy and not flexible. Yet she has tiny scales covering the leather of her wings,” Abraxis replies, his tone edged with curiosity. He glances toward the nest. “Does Mom have scales on her wing leather?”
Vox stops, his movements freezing as he looks between Abraxis and Mina’s wings. “I’m honestly not sure,” he admits, his tone more curious than concerned.
The vibration of my phone in my pocket pulls me back. I text Vaughn updating him on the situation. The faint tapping of the keys feels oddly grounding amidst the chaos.
“Vaughn is bringing you a robe, Mina, so you can shift back when you’re ready, just in case you want it,” I say. As we climb off her back, her steady warmth lingers, even as the cool night air bites at my skin. She stays where she is, stretched out in the courtyard, her gaze fixed on the stars above.
“Is something else coming?” Abraxis asks, standing beside me.
“No clue. She didn’t get to tell us what she saw before the attack happened,” I reply just as Vaughn and Leander arrive, the clinking of dishes accompanying them as they bring food and a robe for Mina.
Effortlessly, she shifts back; her form snapping into place with practiced ease. She slips into the robe, her movements sharp and angry asshe shoves her arms into the sleeves. “Stupid blue drake... I should have killed him,” Mina growls, her voice low and feral as she glares toward the barracks.
“What did you see before you shifted?” I ask, seizing the moment while she’s distracted.
“Attor came to kill Warrick to claim Cora as his own,” she snarls, the sound reverberating through the courtyard. It’s primal, powerful, and it sends a shiver down my spine, raising the fine hairs at the back of my neck.
“You stopped that, love... Everyone is safe now,” Abraxis says gently, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her arm.
“You don’t understand,” Mina snaps, her eyes blazing. “The blue dragons will keep coming—for her, for him. Maybe for me, too, if they find out how strong I am.” She takes the egg carrier from me, her grip firm, and turns to head inside, leaving us standing in stunned silence.
The weight of her words settles heavily in the air. A war is brewing—on three fronts now. The fire drakes. Her father. And now, potentially, the blue dragons.
“What do you suggest we do?” I ask, glancing between Vox and Abraxis.
Vox’s expression hardens as he contemplates. “Try to talk the females into combining nests for safety. During the school year, maybe have Cora and her mate in the same hallway as your nest in Malivore. For now, I’ll offer Warrick and Cora the guest house that’s close to your place, Abraxis.” Without another word, he strides off, his determination clear as he moves to put his plan into motion.
