Page 75 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
The weight of him is familiar, reassuring. He lays down, his wings folding tightly against his sides, ready for the long journey ahead. The wind bites against my scales as I spread my wings wide, each membrane catching the faint moonlight.
It’s an eight-hour flight to the outpost where we’re expected. Eight hours feels like an eternity—a distance too vast if Mina needs me. The fear churns again, whispering insidious doubts, but I push them aside. My wings beat powerfully against the night air as we take off, the ground falling away beneath us. I can only hope I’m overreacting—that the shadows of my imagination won’t manifest into the horrors I fear. But the weight in my chest tells me otherwise.
The sun crests the jagged horizon, casting a pale, golden glow over the last mountain range before the outpost. The crisp morning air carries a metallic tang, sharp and cold against my nostrils. But the sight ahead freezes my blood—a storm of wings, claws, and fire. Wyverns and green dragons swarm in a chaotic, merciless assault on the outpost below.
A growl builds deep in my chest, rattling my ribcage before erupting into a thunderous roar. The sound echoes through the valley, as a challenge and a warning. Callan leaps from my back, his gryphon wings beating furiously as he flies towards the outpost. He’s small, fast, and agile, but no match for the scale and ferocity of the wyverns.
I draw a deep breath, the familiar burn pooling in my chest before I unleash a torrent of flame. The fire roars past my teeth, molten and deadly, a gift from my red dragon mother. My other breath weapon lies dormant for now, but this one is enough to rip a hole in theirformation. The outpost dragons seize the opportunity, launching into the air with a deafening chorus of roars.
Above, the sky turns into a battlefield of wings and blood. Ash and acid sting my nose, mixing with the scent of charred scales and burned flesh. The clash of talons and screams of pain creates a cacophony that reverberates in my skull. A sharp, searing pain flares as a splash of acid grazes my flank, the wound hissing and bubbling. It’s shallow, but it stings like hell, and the anger fuels me forward.
In the distance, a smaller flight of greens and wyverns peels off from the main attack, heading toward possibly Malivore.‘Shit.’My wings fold tight, and I dive for the outpost. The wind howls past my ears as the ground rushes up to meet me. I shift mid-air, the transformation ripping through my body in a rush of searing heat and bone-cracking pain. When my boots hit the dirt, I’m already sprinting.
The command center door crashes open under my shoulder, the sound of wood splintering bouncing off the walls. Heads snap up, startled faces turning to me as my chest heaves.
Callan doesn’t need my words; he reads the urgency in my eyes. “I’m heading back,” he announces, his voice steady as he grabs his gear.
“You’ll never make it. It’s a two-day flight for a gryphon,” Lark interjects, stepping forward from the map-covered table. The air inside the room smells of sweat, fear, and tension. “I can spare Darvan for eight hours. He’ll get you halfway. That’s the best I can do—we need you here, Abraxis.” Lark’s gaze lingers on me, his hesitation clear. He knows what’s at stake. He has a young mate, too.
Callan nods, resolute. “I’ll take it. I’ll get to her as fast as I can. I’ll see if Ziggy can get her to your parents.”
Feeling foolish, I pull my phone from my pocket, the smooth surface cool against my fingertips. I tap at the screen—no signal. “Anyone have service?” One by one, the others check their phones, shaking their heads.
“The towers must be down,” Lark says, his tone grim as he tosses his phone back on the table. His jaw tightens, and I catch the briefest flash of fear in his eyes. “Let’s end this quickly. Some of us left our nests undefended,” he growls.
My gut twists. Unlike his mate, mine is deadly, a force of nature that will raze the continent to find me if she senses anything amiss. “Come on, Callan,” I mutter, turning on my heel. “I’ll get you to Darvan.”
The descent to the flight field is quick, the gravel crunching under my boots. The acrid smell of smoke from the battle above clings to the air. When we reach the landing area. Darvan, an earth-dragon, is already shifted, his massive form blending seamlessly with the rocky terrain.
“I’ll get there as fast as I can,” Callan says, pulling me into a quick embrace before shifting back into his gryphon form. His feathers ripple in the morning light as he scrambles onto Darvan’s back.
“Head toward the Malivore Conservatory,” I instruct Darvan. “At the halfway point, or just beyond, roar to signal Callan to leap off.”
Darvan rumbles his agreement, his scales grinding together as he shifts his weight.
“I owe you,” I murmur, patting his flank.
Darvan takes off, his powerful wings stirring up dust and grit. My eyes follow them, tracking their ascent—until a dark streak moves against the horizon. My pulse spikes as I recognize the sleek, angular shape of a wyvern lurking in the shadow of the cliffs.
“Damn it.”
Without thinking, I shift again, my body twisting and reshaping into my dragon form as I give chase. The adrenaline pumps through my veins, every muscle coiled and ready for the long, grueling night ahead. My thoughts split between tracking Callan’s progress and the unbreakable bond tethering me to Mina. She’s waiting for me, and if anything threatens her, there will be hell to pay.
CHAPTER 47
Leander
Watching Abraxis leave is brutal.Mina barely keeps it together, and when she finally crumbles, Ziggy and I have to drag her into the bathroom. The faint echoes of her protests fade as the sound of water filling the tub takes over. The sharp scent of lavender bath salts hangs in the air, mingling with the tension that never quite leaves this place. The tiles are cold underfoot, a jarring contrast to the steam building in the small space. We coax her into the warm water, the hiss of her dragoness low but ever-present beneath her breath.
Leaving her to soak, we step out into the main suite and find Balor and Vaughn leaning against the kitchenette counter. The faint hum of the fridge fills the silence, underscoring the weight in the room.
“It’s started,” Vaughn says, his voice low and steady as he glances at each of us. His eyes are sharp, like he’s already calculating our odds.
I pull my phone from my pocket and unlock it; the screen illuminating the painting Mina did of Klauth. The vivid strokes of crimson andblack contrasts vastly with his human side seem to pulse under the dim light. The tension coils tighter in my chest as I stride to the balcony, sliding the door open. The chilly night air bites at my skin, and the distant stars flicker like fireflies against the inky sky. My eyes drift upward, tracing the alignment of the moon and stars. Their positions feel ominous, a cosmic countdown ticking toward something we can’t stop.
“We have twenty-four hours, maybe thirty-six at best,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. The words linger in the chill as I turn back to the others.
They follow me onto the balcony; the wood creaking softly under our weight. Balor takes my phone and holds it up to the sky, aligning the painted stars with the real ones. A faint exhale escapes him as he hands it back. “Tomorrow…” he mutters, his voice heavy with meaning. He turns toward Ziggy, his sharp gaze flicking over him. “You need to go spend time with Mina. See if she wants to bond with you tonight.” His jaw tightens, the corner of his eye twitching as Ziggy vanishes without a word.
