Page 78 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
“This one surprises me the most. I know in my heart it’s Balor’s. We got lucky it took after me. It’s the only one we try to have together.” Her voice catches slightly, and she flips the canvas over with careful hands, the faint scrape of the frame against the table filling the silence. She writes down the hatchlings’ colors and their fathers with deliberate precision. “Just in case anyone gets curious.”
Mina smiles and offers me the canvas. The faint scent of turpentine and paint lingers on it. “Can you put this in our apartment?”
I take it, staring at the scene she’s created. My hatchling—a slate gray and green—stands out like a beacon. My gargoyle stirs, emotions swirling between pride and an ache I can’t quite name. The thought of a child not bound by the stone curse is bittersweet.
“Anywhere special you want me to put it?” I ask, glancing up as she packs her brushes into their worn case.
“The wall directly across from the door when you enter the apartment. I want it to be the first thing everyone sees.” She smiles, her joy radiating like a quiet sun, and leans in to kiss me. Her lips are warm, soft, grounding.
My gargoyle rumbles in response, a low vibration in my chest. She smiles against my lips, her breath mingling with mine. “I’m going to go spar,” she says, her voice light but her gaze distant as it flickstoward Shadowcarve. I can feel the resolve in her words. Deep down, I know she’s accepted her fate, but the thought twists inside me like a blade.
“I’ll come with you…” I offer, stepping forward, but she raises a hand, stopping me. Her palm is steady, her eyes determined.
“If you want that image to happen, things must happen in the order they’re meant to.” Her voice drops, her words clipped and deliberate. She glances around, ensuring no one is close enough to overhear. “Don’t you think I tried thinking of a dozen different options last night? So many scenarios played out in my mind.” Her eyes close for a heartbeat before reopening, raw with emotion. “This is the safest option for everyone. In this one, all of my mates survive.” Her gaze locks with mine, pleading, commanding.
I nod, though the motion feels like lead dragging me down. I kiss her gently, savoring the moment as if it might be the last. “See you tonight.” The words are heavy with unspoken fears. If things unfold as she’s seen, I’ll be turned to stone until nightfall without my amulet.
“See you tonight,” she whispers, her voice steady as she squeezes my hand before walking away, her silhouette fading into the direction of Shadowcarve.
I fly to Malivore, the cool air biting at my skin as the distant hum of the academy fades behind me. Landing on our balcony, I clutch the canvas tightly, the edges biting into my palms. The apartment is quiet—too quiet. My gargoyle stirs uneasily as I step inside, the faint smell of vanilla candles mingling with the sterility of a recently cleaned space.
I creep past the kitchen island, my claws clicking faintly against the tile. The cute cow painting on the wallstares back at me. I take it down, replacing it with Mina’s vision of the future. The canvas feels heavier than it should as I hang it up, the colors stark and vivid against the pale wall.
“So sad you won’t live to see that happen. Then again, neither will she,” a voice purrs from the shadows. I whirl around, the soft scrape of fabric against stone revealing Arista as she steps into the dim light.
“How did you get in here?” I snarl, backing into the kitchen island. The cold edge of the counter presses into my spine.
“I have friends in low places,” she says, her voice laced with mockery. She stalks closer, her steps deliberate, predatory. Before I can react, a sharp pain lances through my back. I glance over my shoulder to see Sierra, her knife pressing against my kidney.
“Will you hurry up? I don’t want to get caught,” Sierra hisses, her voice sharp and impatient. The blade digs in deeper, stealing my breath.
“Fine,” Arista replies, her fingers snaking out to grab the chain around my neck. The cold metal bites into my skin as she yanks it away. The last thing I hear is the soft clink of my amulet hitting the floor before everything goes black and the stone sleep claims me.
CHAPTER 49
Callan
I don’t knowwhich feeling is worse—the ache of leaving my friend and nest mate behind to face countless enemies or the weight of knowing I’m flying straight into an ambush. The bitter taste of guilt clings to the back of my throat, mixing with the sour tang of adrenaline. The air around us is sharp and cold, biting against my skin even as Darvan’s earth-dragon beneath me radiates heat, his muscles coiling and flexing with every powerful wingbeat.
Darvan is pushing himself to the edge, his larger frame cutting through the wind with brutal efficiency. Abraxis’s black dragon might be fast, but Darvan’s sheer size gives him the edge in both speed and stamina. The roar of the wind drowns out everything else, and the rhythmic whoosh of his wings becomes an anchor, holding my fraying thoughts together.
As we creep up on the four-hour limit, the landscape below transforms—rolling hills flatten into a barren field, speckled with wild grass and dark soil. Darvan scans the ground before folding his wings and diving. The impact of his landing shakes the earth beneath us,and I brace myself as I dismount. My boots crunch against the frost-kissed grass, and the cold air stings my lungs when I inhale. Darvan shifts back into his human form, his breaths steaming in the chill as he motions toward the horizon.
“You’re about two hours out from Malivore from here.” His voice is steady but low, barely audible over the whisper of the wind that tears through the field. He raises a hand, his fingers splayed, feeling the direction of the current. “The prevailing wind is on your side. It might speed things up.”
I glance at the sky. The clouds race each other, moving faster than I’d like, a constant reminder of how far I still have to go. “That’s why you landed early,” I say, my voice rough from the strain of holding back emotions. “You’ll have to fight the wind on your way back.”
Darvan nods, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his shoulders speaks volumes. When I clasp his hand, his grip is firm, grounding me for a brief moment. “We appreciate this. Thank you,” I say, but the words feel hollow—too small to convey the depth of my gratitude.
“Go save your young mate.” His reply is simple, yet the weight behind it settles heavily in my chest. Without another word, he turns and strides away, shifting mid-step. His dragon form takes to the sky, disappearing into the swirling clouds within moments.
I stand still, my gaze fixed on the restless sky. The clouds churn like they’re alive, driven by the same wind that’s meant to carry me closer to Malivore. It’s cold, so cold that the tips of my fingers ache, but I push it aside as I shift into my gryphon form. My talons dig into the soft earth before I leap forward, the motion smooth and powerful. The first few beats of my wings send tremors through my body, but I stretch them wide, letting the wind catch me.
Every beat of my wings brings the unknown closer, the tension winding tighter in my chest. The icy air whips past my feathers, slicing at my exposed skin, but it’s nothing compared to the storm raging in my head. Questions hammer at me, each one louder than the last.
Where will I get shot?
How close to Malivore will it happen?
