Page 8 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
Without waiting for his reply, I shift into my gryphon form and leap into the sky. The wind rushes past me as I climb higher, heading back to Malivore and the nest. Vaughn can argue all he wants, but the willof the dragons isn’t something to debate—and he’ll learn that soon enough.
When we finally catch up to her, Mina has both eggs nestled side by side on a pillow. She’s speaking softly, her tone melodic, almost hypnotic. The eggs pulse faintly, as if responding to her words. The sight sends a shiver down my spine—something ancient and powerful is happening here, something we barely understand.
“We weren’t that far behind. What did we miss?” I glance at Abraxis first, then at Balor, Ziggy, and Leander, hoping one of them can explain.
“She brought Klauth out, set them next to each other, and started telling them about the gauntlet,” Balor says, his voice flat but his eyes betraying his unease.
I walk over to the bookcase, pulling down the dusty tome on cursed eggs. The pages crackle as I flip through them, searching for something—anything—that might shed light on what Mina’s doing. Then I freeze. There, etched in faded ink, is a depiction of Klauth and Thauglor, the black dragon, razing a castle together. I hold the book up for the others to see.
“Apparently, they have a history,” I say, my voice tight. “According to this chapter, they destroyed a rival den. The rival dragons hunted in Thauglor’s territory without permission and ruined a display he’d made to attract a mate.” I frown, my eyes lingering on the illustration, before looking up at Abraxis and Mina. “Do dragons still … make displays to attract mates?” The idea feels foreign, strange. Then again, male gryphons build elaborate nests to win a mate, so maybe it’s not that different.
Mina laughs softly, shaking her head as if I’ve missed something obvious. “You didn’t notice the weapons andskulls arranged at Shadowcarve?” she asks, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She leans in and plants a quick kiss on my cheek before turning her attention back to the eggs.
“Wait—that was adisplay?” I glance at Vaughn, who looks just as confused as I feel. He shrugs, his expression mirroring my disbelief.
“Yes, it was a display,” Abraxis says, his tone heavy with finality.
I can’t stop myself from asking, “How did Mina accept it?”
Mina laughs, but Abraxis answers before she can, pulling something from his coat—a braid of hair, dark and intricate, unmistakably Mina’s. “This,” he says, holding it up, “is the female’s acceptance. Or, sometimes, she might gift a scale. Since Mina couldn’t shift yet, this was as close as she could get.”
A single tear slips down Mina’s cheek as she stares at her braid in Abraxis’s hand. There’s a weight in the air now, the kind that comes with something deeply personal, undeniably significant. I don’t know what to say, so I just watch as Mina’s fingers hover briefly over the braid, her lips curving into a faint, bittersweet smile.
“I’m still mad everyone hid the fact Abraxis was my mate,” Mina says, her tone light, the sharp edge of genuine anger absent. It’s more a statement than an accusation, but the weight of her words lingers.
“We had to keep you safe,” I reply, careful, meeting her gaze briefly before nodding toward the eggs resting on the pillow. “What are we going to do about them?” My focus stays on the ancient shells, their soft, rhythmic pulses drawing me in like the beat of some ancient heart.
“I’m not putting the black one back. He’s staying with us,” she says firmly, crouching down to scoop both eggs into her arms. She hugs them to her chest, protective, unyielding.
“Spoken like a true dragoness,” Abraxis remarks, a smile tugging at his lips. His fingers move quickly over his phone, and he chuckles darkly. “Lysander’s on his way here. Lemon tattled on us, and let’s just say he’s not happy.”
Before anyone can react, Iris swoops into the room, her wings folding neatly as she lands on Mina’s shoulder. Lightning crackles between her horns, a warning as she tilts her head with an air of challenge. Mina doesn’t miss a beat. “He can be unhappy all he wants. They’re mine, and he can’t have them,” she growls, her voice low, dangerous, and laced with finality. Her eyes flash, flickering briefly to her dragons, daring anyone to contradict her.
I swallow hard, feeling the sharp tug of her protective fury ripple through the air. There’s no universe where I’ll step between Mina and those eggs—not now, not ever. The headmaster? He does not know what kind of storm he’s walking into. Part of me almost pities him.Almost.
CHAPTER 5
Abraxis
This is goingto be one hell of a battle of wills between the headmaster and my mate. Mina’s dragoness, stubborn and unyielding, ignited two eggs at the Choosing—and now she’s claimed the black egg by reigniting it. I glance at her, the weight of the storm brewing in her sharp eyes. She’s unrelenting, and it makes me proud, even as I brace for the fallout.
The knock at the door finally comes, shattering the tense silence. Mina’s low, guttural rumble fills the room, primal and raw, sending a shiver down my spine and making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“Let’s hear what he has to say for himself,” she growls, and I lean in, pressing a kiss to her cheek in an attempt to soothe her dragoness. My hand lingers at her back, steadying her. Her scales shimmer faintly under my touch, betraying the heat of her emotions.
The door swings open, and Lysander steps into the living room, his posture calm and deliberate, like he’s walking into a predator’s den.My gaze shifts to Mina as her scales ripple across her exposed skin, a subtle but dangerous sign of her rising anger.
“Mina, the black egg needs to be returned to the chamber,” Lysander says, his voice so maddeningly calm that I feel my irritation flare. He’s provoking her, whether or not he realizes it.
“No,” she replies flatly, not bothering to mask her defiance. She presses herself closer to me, sliding under my wing, peeking around my arm at the headmaster like she’s daring him to push her further.
Lysander doesn’t flinch. “Mina, it’s a direct order. Return the egg to the chamber,” he repeats, his tone measured, as though he’s trying to outlast a storm.
A growl tears from Mina’s lips, deep and threatening, reverberating in my chest. The sound sends a ripple of scales down my arms as my dragon reacts to her fury. She is fire and defiance incarnate, and I can’t help but admire her even as I feel the tension mounting.
“I suggest you not push her,” I warn, my voice low and steady, though my claws itch to strike. “The egg chose her. Twice. By ancient rights, it’s hers until it hatches or goes dormant.” I flex my wing, pulling it tighter around her, a barrier between her and the headmaster. My scales press against her, an instinctive attempt to calm her volatile energy, though I know her dragoness is far from soothed. Lysander watches us, his calculating gaze flicking from Mina to me.
Balor steps in front of us, hands raised in a placating gesture, his calm presence a sharp contrast to the tension crackling through the air. “Let’s see how this all plays out,” he says, his voice smooth and measured. He motions toward Mina and me, his gaze steady as he speaks. “The red egg has never ignited for anyone. The black egg? Dormant for over three hundred and eighty-five years, and it’s ignited twice for her.”
