Page 74 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
Callan’s golden eye glimmers with sorrow as he steps closer. The scent of leather and iron clings to him, grounding me as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. His heart beats slow and steady beneath my ear, a rhythm that feels like both a promise and a farewell. “It’s happening just like you saw,” he whispers.
I choke on a sob, my words spilling out in a rush. “You can’t leave … You’re outnumbered… Callan gets shot down…” The memory of my vision tightens around my throat like a noose as I lift my gaze to Abraxis. His amber eyes burn as he strides toward me, his movements precise and deliberate. He takes me from Callan, his arms wrapping around me in a protective embrace.
The leather of his wings unfurls and cocoons me, shutting out the firelight and the world beyond. The scent of him—smoke, cedar, and something uniquely his—fills my senses, calming the storm inside me. I press my forehead against his chest, the steady rise, and fall of his breathing lulling me, but my voice cracks as I whisper, “Please don’t leave me.”
Abraxis tilts my chin up, his eyes glowing brighter than the firelight beyond his wings. The softness of his lips against mine is fleeting, butit sends a jolt through me, grounding me in this moment. My hand presses against his chest, feeling the wild cadence of his heartbeat mirroring my own.
A single tear escapes him, falling to my cheek and snapping my eyes open. I stare at him, stunned, as he whispers, “I wish I could stay.” His wings retract, letting the firelight spill over us again. “I refuse to pressure you into having a clutch to keep me home. You’re too young, and the risk is too great that I’d lose you and the clutch.” His voice is heavy, raw with emotion, and his hands frame my face, his warmth searing into my skin.
“I love you too much to risk you. I will always choose you over me.” His golden, slit-pupil eyes flare, glowing like molten sunlight. It’s as if both the man and the dragon within him are saying goodbye, their combined love a weight that makes my chest ache.
The room feels colder as his words settle over me, and my tears fall freely now, mingling with the taste of salt on my lips. I clutch his hands, desperate to hold on to this moment, even as the horizon looms closer, dark and uncertain.
He presses his lips to my forehead once more before passing me off to Balor. “Kill anything that gets close to her. I’ll sort the bodies out later.” The deep growl that escapes his lips makes Balor stiffen behind me.
“You have my word.” He says as he tightens his grip on me.
I watch two of my mates leave my nest. One I don’t know if he lives or dies, the other I know will rain napalm down upon his enemies just to make it back to me. I rush to the window and watch Abraxis’s massive dragon take flight with Callan’s gryphon on its back. Two pieces of my heart are flying off and there’s nothing I can do about it.
CHAPTER 46
Abraxis
The minutethe courier delivered the missives, I knew it was over. Mina’s vision is coming to pass. The parchment in my hands feels rough, its edges crinkling as I clutch it too tightly. The ink pot on the desk trembles as I slam it down, the faint tang of metal and parchment mixing with the salt air drifting through the cracked window.
I sit down and begin writing her several letters—one for each day I’ll be gone. My pen scratches against the paper, the sound grating against the heavy silence in the room. There’s also the letter I leave with Ziggy in case I die in battle. The weight of the words feels like a stone pressing on my chest. I detail everything I’ve set aside for her in case of my passing—the land, the accounts, the stipend from the kingdom she’s entitled to as my mate. Every line feels colder than the last, as if the ink itself knows this might be goodbye.
“Are you sure this needs to be done?” Ziggy’s voice cuts through the quiet, low and uncertain, as he watches me pen the hardest letter of my life.
“I made arrangements the last time we were called away, and I was injured.” My voice is hoarse, my throat raw from holding back emotions that threaten to choke me. My eyes fall to the letter as I fold it, tucking one of my scales inside as proof of her claim. It shimmers faintly in the candlelight, a midnight onyx that catches the eye—strong, unbreakable. At least, it should be. “If I can’t be here to take care of her in life, I’ll make sure she’s taken care of after my death.”
Smirking, I glance up at Ziggy, the expression brittle on my face. “Besides, she’s chosen to mate my best friends. I know you idiots will do your best to take care of her.”
The chair scrapes against the floor as I push away from the table, the sound harsh in the heavy air. The letter I hope Ziggy never has to give Mina feels like a lead weight in my palm as I hand it to him.
“You better fucking survive this,” Ziggy mutters, shaking his head. His fingers tighten around the envelope, and for the first time, his cocky demeanor falters. “Her in a rage is not something I ever want to witness.”
A shiver runs down his spine as his gaze shifts to Callan, who holds a similar letter in his hand. “Seriously? You two are a pair of morose motherfuckers.” The grumble in his voice doesn’t quite mask the edge of worry. Begrudgingly, he snatches the letter from Callan, tucking both envelopes into his jacket.
“Between our two stipends, Mina will never have to worry about anything for the rest of her life,” Callan says, his voice steady, but his eye is distant. He stares at the missive I hand back to him, running a thumb along its edge.
“Can we stop being so negative? She didn’t say either of you die.” Ziggy’s voice holds a note of exasperation, but the tightness in his jaw betrays his unease.
I don’t answer. Instead, I move to the window, the salty breeze brushing against my skin. My eyes trace the jagged coastline, the waves crashing against the rocks below. In the distance, I see Mina and Balor moving along the shore, their forms sharp against the dusky horizon. The sound of the ocean roars in my ears as Balor shifts back, the air shimmering faintly as his scaled form morphs into his human one. They walk hand in hand, the last stretch to the conservatory.
At least I know Balor would turn the world to stone to protect her. Ziggy would take her to the ends of the earth to escape whatever was chasing them. My breath fogs the window as I exhale slowly, my thoughts turning dark. The big unknown is the two cursed eggs sitting in Mina’s room.
Almost an hour later, with tears streaking both Mina’s face and mine, we finally leave. The bitter tang of salt still lingers on my lips, and my chest feels tight, as if the weight of what’s coming is physically pressing down on me. It’s times like this I hate the decree forcing all male dragons into service until their mates lay their first clutch. The thought churns in my stomach, sour and unrelenting. I won’t force that on Mina just to spare myself.
I glance up, my gaze locking on the Waxing Crescent moon hanging low in the sky. The Dragon Star glimmers faintly near it, the same positioning Mina captured so vividly in her painting. The cool night air seems sharper now, each breath carrying the metallic hint of inevitability. Within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, everything will be set into motion—if her vision was completely accurate.
“I’ll fly us out like last time, Callan,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended, as if the night itself demands silence. I glance over my shoulder at my oldest friend, his form rigid, his eye fixed on the imposing silhouette of the Malivore building. Its shadow stretches across the flight field like a hungry maw. In the bay window above, I catch sight of Mina standing motionless, framed by the glass. The faint, golden light from inside spills over her, accentuating the tension in her shoulders and the fragile determination in her posture. The bond between us hums faintly in my mind, and I send her a gentle caress, a reassurance. Her response is immediate—warm, steady, but tinged with worry. For the first time in my existence, fear snakes through me like a cold, relentless tide.
My father’s words echo in my mind:Fear is the little death. It shuts down logic, leaves you running on primal reactions instead of reason.But even his wisdom doesn’t ease the icy grip around my heart.
I look back one last time. Vaughn and Balor stand on either side of Mina, holding her close, their hulking forms protective but grim. Leander and Ziggy hover nearby, their expressions shadowed, unreadable. I inhale deeply; the wind shifting to carry the faintest trace of Mina’s scent—spice and warmth, grounding and fleeting all at once.
Then the wind changes again, and so do I. The shift is violent, seamless—a ripple of power rushing through me like a tidal wave. My drake erupts into existence, obsidian scales shimmering as they seem to devour the surrounding light. My talons dig into the earth, the cool, damp soil squelching beneath them. I flex each claw, feeling the ground yield to my strength as I ground myself in this moment, forcing my thoughts to steady. I lower my horned head toward Callan. He shifts into his gryphon form, his feathers gleaming golden under the moonlight, and with a powerful leap, he lands on my back.
