Page 43 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
I stand, the roof creaking beneath my weight, and wrap my arms around his thick neck as he scoops me up with ease. His claws are firm but gentle against my back, and a rush of wind surrounds us as he leaps from the roof. The ground blurs below us, and the exhilaration of the descent sends a shiver through me. He glides us down smoothly, landing with a soft thud near the others.
“Where were you?” Callan asks, signaling Abraxis to pause mid-swing. Sweat drips from Callan’s brow, and his chest rises and falls in deep, steady breaths.
“On the roof, thinking about the logistics of combining our nest and Cora’s,” I reply as Vaughn slowly slides me down the length of his body. The firm planes of his chest and stomach brush against me before my feet touch the ground.
“Mom wants to have you two combine nests? She was serious about that?” Abraxis says, his voice rough as he wipes a towel across hisbrow. The faint musk of his sweat reaches me, sharp and earthy, mingling with the lingering scent of ash and leather in the room. My gaze trails to where a rogue drop of sweat escapes, sliding down the column of his neck before vanishing into the dark fabric of his shirt. The sight makes my dragoness stir, restless.
“Yes, somehow. Cora is still in the everything-is-awesome stage of being newly mated,” I reply, my tone laced with a bitter edge. “Wait until her mate gets too close to me and see what she does. She’ll be furious.” I shake my head, trying to shove down my growing unease. My hands instinctively settle on the egg carrier strapped to my chest. The smooth leather feels warm against my skin, a reminder of the precious lives within. Flipping the top open, I stare down at Klauth’s and Thauglor’s eggs. Their shells gleam faintly in the dim light, the colors deep and pulsing, almost alive.
“She forgets how territorial drakes get,” Abraxis smirks, his teeth flashing briefly before he gestures toward the carrier. “It’s bad enough that when those two hatch, we’ll have to establish a hierarchy in the nest all over again.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, the movement sending a faint ripple through his black hair, damp with sweat. He takes the water Leander offers, the glass clinking faintly as their hands brush.
“Ugh... I forgot about that. Do you all have to fight?” My voice is tighter than I’d like, and the thought of the chaos makes my temples throb. I rub them absently, the cool metal of my rings pressing into my skin.
“What do you mean, all the drakes fighting?” Leander asks, his voice sharp with worry. His eyes dart between us, wide and shimmering like freshly turned soil after rain. I feel the nervous energy rolling off him, the scent sweet and metallic.
“There’s always one dominant drake,” I explain, my voice softening as I stroke the edge of the carrier. The texture of the eggshells beneath the leather feels rough, like hardened lava. “Right now, that’s Abraxis. No fighting is needed because he’s the only drake. But when Klauth and Thauglor hatch, that makes three.”
Abraxis sighs, his shoulders slumping as he drops onto a nearby bench with a creak. “I’m the youngest and the smallest out of the three of us, just based on age.” His voice is flat, resigned, as if the truth weighs him down more than the tension in the room.
I arch a brow at him. He meets my gaze and nods, his expression shadowed with something I can’t quite place—fear, or maybe acceptance. The air feels heavier, charged, as if the room itself is bracing for the inevitable. My dragoness growls low in the back of my mind, restless and coiled. “The strongest drake claims control of the nest,” I murmur. “If we weren’t already bonded, they would try to kill you for control.”
Abraxis nods again, his eyes dark and distant. The flickering light of the fire dances across his face, highlighting the sharp planes of his jaw and the tight set of his mouth. The gravity of the conversation sinks into my chest like a stone, cold and unwelcome. “Will they still try to kill you?” I ask, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. The question feels like a plea, my gut twisting as I silently beg for him to say no.
“They’re ancients,” Abraxis replies, his voice low and gravelly, like the rumble of distant thunder. “Who knows what they’ll try to do? The only thing I do know is I hope you can control them when they hatch. And I hope they hatch one at a time instead of both of them at once.” He exhales heavily, the sound like wind rushing through cavernous halls, and leans back against the bench. The wood creaks beneath his weight, a faint echo in the charged silence.
My talons are going to be full if they hatch together. I run my fingers over the edge of the carrier; the tension thrumming through me like a live wire. The air feels thick, almost suffocating, as I realize just how fragile the balance of our nest truly is.
CHAPTER 26
Leander
Thankfully,winter break passed quickly, and we’re back in the Malivore suite a few days before the winter sessions begin. The air inside feels heavier than usual, like the walls are holding onto secrets. Mina is on edge, pacing like a caged predator, her tension crackling in the space between us. We’ve pieced together enough to know the ambush drakes didn’t get into the egg chamber alone. Someone helped them—an elder, or worse, the headmaster. Ziggy’s been phasing in and out of the leaders’ rooms, gathering scraps of information like a shadow.
“What are we going to do this year?” Mina’s voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and raw. It pulls me from my room like a leash. When I step into the common living space, the faint scent of charred wood and lavender—the remnants of her dragoness—hits me.
“What did I miss?” My voice is rougher than intended. Balor hands me a mug of coffee before I can say more. The heat seeps into my palms, grounding me, though the bitterness on my tongue does little to soothe my unease.
“We’ll just have to sedate you here,” Abraxis says, his tone light as he moves to pull Mina into a hug. But she flinches away, her arms wrapping around herself.
“That’s not safe,” she snaps, her voice rising in pitch. Her talons—half-formed, translucent—skim her forearms as she rubs them, like she’s trying to scrub off invisible chains. “I need to be underground. It’s not natural to be above ground for it.”
I clear my throat, stepping further into the room. “What if, on the weekends, we take the nest to start digging your new nest? Would that help?” The words feel tentative. A pebble tossed into the storm of her frustration.
Mina freezes mid-step, her golden eyes narrowing as she looks between me and Abraxis. For a moment, her dragoness glimmers beneath the surface, a shadow of scaled fury. Then she smirks, tilting her head. “See? The Nightmare gets it.” She exhales, and the tension in her shoulders softens slightly. “No offense, Leander. I thought you’d be the hardest to convince about why I need the nest dug.”
Without waiting for a reply, she begins to move again, brushing against the corners of tables and walls. Her neck arches, scales catching the dim light as she rubs against the furniture. The faint scrape of scale against wood sends a shiver down my spine.
I glance at Abraxis, brow raised. “What is she doing?”
“Scent marking,” Abraxis murmurs, stepping closer to stand near Vaughn, Callan, and me. His voice is low, almost amused. “She’s making the apartment smell more like her home. See the way she’s rubbing just below her ears? That’s where the strongest scent glands are—females use them to claim territory. The ones on the wrists aren’t as potent.”
Before I can respond, a sharp knock echoes through the space, loud and abrupt against the tension-laden silence. Abraxis chuckles, nodding toward the door a second before Mina flings it open.
Cora and Warrick stand frozen in the hallway, their expressions tight. Neither steps past the threshold. “Dear god,” Cora mutters, her voice trembling. She backs into Warrick’s chest, seeking his protection. “Why does your apartment suddenly feel like it wants to eat me alive?”
Mina’s lips curl into a slow, predatory smile, her pupils narrowing into slits. “I told you at your mom’s house,” she says, her voice low, the edges fraying into a hiss. “I’m the more dominant female. My scent will terrify you in my space. Trying to combine the nests won’t work. The best you can do is live across the main hallway from us.”
The weight of her dragoness floods the room, pressing against my senses like a physical force. Cora whimpers, and Warrick tightens his arm around her before retreating with a mumbled excuse. The moment they’re gone, Mina exhales sharply, her shoulders sagging as the tension bleeds away.
