Page 81 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg
My father’s smirk is a cruel slash beneath his mask. He feints with one blade, then slams the other into mine. Pain explodes through my wrist as my second blade goes spinning out of my grip. Panic claws at my ribcage.Where are my mates?I dart a glance skyward, catching a glimpse of wyverns and green dragons tearing through the academy walls in coordinated destruction. The air reeks of ozone and burnt mortar, as flames lick at shattered spires overhead.
Teeth gritted, I cling to my remaining sword, but my father capitalizes on my split-second distraction. A final, brutal strike disarms me completely, the blade ringing out like a death knell as it hits the ground. An icy shock of vulnerability surges through me. Then it strikes—an inferno igniting through Klauth’s tether. It blazes through my core, a frantic, pulsing heat.
Abaddon—my father—towers above me, sword raised high for the killing blow. The torchlight gleams off his blade, and I swear I can smell my fear, sharp and bitter. My last thoughts aren’t of terror but of my mates—and the precious eggs. My heart clenches, a last burst of determination flooding my veins.
I can’t die. Not yet.
My father presses the cold steel of his second sword against my shoulder, and I grit my teeth. I won’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream. Every muscle in my body goes rigid, my nostrils flaring as I take in the gritty smell of dust and old sweat lingering in the sparring ring. My glare is full of hatred, and despite the pain lancing through me, a fierce heat flares at the back of my mind. The tether with Klauth grows hotter, sharper.
A thunderous roar erupts from somewhere beyond the academy walls, the sound rumbling through the packed dirt floor and up into my bones. My ears ring, and for a moment, my vision wavers with the force of it. The roar comes again, echoing off the ancient stone buildings of Shadowcarve. It’s the unmistakable bellow of an enraged drake.
I pull on that tether, calling out to Klauth, and the bond sizzles within me like molten fire. A third roar, even angrier, shakes the very foundation of the ring. The echo resonates in my chest, leaving my heart pounding. My father, Abaddon, tenses. He glances around, eyes flickering with uncertainty. Abraxis is gone, so who else could possibly be coming?
Over the far wall, I spot a blur of crimson cutting through the sky. Klauth’s blood-red scales catch the sunlight, and each wingbeat sends a rush of wind that rustles the nearby trees. As he draws closer, I can see the heavy scars marking his body—each one a testament to long-forgotten battles. His roar rips through the air again, vibrating the ground beneath my feet.
“You better run…” I say, my voice laced with dark satisfaction. My father’s grip on the hilt stutters for a second before he yanks the blade free from my shoulder. Pain spears through me, and I clamp my lips shut, tasting blood as I bite the inside of my cheek. “Klauth looks pissed.”
Pissed is putting it lightly. My father’s form contorts, and the nauseating crunch of bones follows as he shifts into his green dragon. With a powerful downward sweep of his wings, he launches himself into the sky, desperate to escape. Wind blasts across the sparring ring, carrying the sharp tang of dragon musk and the faint odor of charred dust. The students scatter around the ring and drop to the ground, pressing themselves against stone walls or scrambling under low awnings.
Klauth soars overhead, blotting out the sun for several heartbeats. His scales flash like smoldering embers, and when he hovers, I feel the gust from his wings buffet my hair and sting my exposed skin. He tips his massive horned head down at me, and I catch a glint of intelligence in his ancient eyes.
“I’m safe. Thank you!” I shout, raising my uninjured arm, hoping my voice carries over the hiss of wind and the frantic cries of students. He dips his head once, a silent acknowledgment, then goes after my father, roaring as he disappears over the tall stone walls toward the northern dorms.
The moment Klauth is gone, Ziggy rushes out from behind one of the protective barriers. He slips an arm around my waist, guiding me away from the ring. The taste of copper still lingers in my mouth, and my shoulder throbs in time with my heartbeat. My leathers feel sticky against my skin, and every tiny movement sends a fresh pang of pain through me.
“How bad is the wound?” Ziggy asks, his voice tight with concern.
“Not bad. Only the tip of the blade got between my scales, but it didn’t go any deeper.” I growl a little at the annoyance of the pain in my shoulder.
Once inside my apartment, the door creaks shut behind us, and Ziggy helps me peel off my leathers, which emit a damp, leathery scent. It clings to my skin. Cool air hits the wound, making me hiss at the sudden temperature change. He cleans the gash, and the smell of antiseptic stings my nose.
I barely notice Callan, Leander, and Balor entering. My focus is on the sharp burn of the cleaning solution. “Was that who I think it was?” Balor asks, his brow arching as he glances from me to the window.
“Klauth came when I called him,” I say simply, watching Ziggy apply a salve. The salve’s scent is pungent—herbal and biting, but it soothes the raw edges of my wound.
“He’s going to kill him…” Leander mutters, nodding at a nearby painting. It depicts my father’s dragon form caught in Klauth’s talons, a swirl of greens and reds locked in battle.
“He will eventually, but not yet.” I brush a finger over the painting’s surface. “My home isn’t finished, and Thauglor hasn’t hatched yet.” I trace the inconsistencies in the depiction with the tip of my fingernail, feeling the cool paint under my touch.
Balor’s phone buzzes and he answers—it’s Abraxis. He relays the chaotic events of the day, his eyes flicking over me as he speaks.
“I need to go find him before he sets the world on fire,” I say, walking out into the hall, the rustle of my clothes following me like a whisper of relief against my skin.
Leander steps inside my bedroom, catching my hand gently. His touch is warm against my clammy palm. “Please take Balor with you,” he says, voice low and pleading.
Shaking my head, I stare at the floor. “The last thing Klauth needs is another male present, especially one who’s my mate. He’ll feelchallenged, and that’ll make everything worse.” I slip on a pale blue sundress made of soft cotton. The fabric slides across my skin, soothing, but it also reminds me how tender my shoulder still feels. I want my mate bites and all of my scales visible to him. He needs to know about the other mates and the potential of my bloodline.
I walk back into the living area and face the others. “I’m going to find Klauth.” I raise a hand to silence their protests. “If there’s another male with me, he’ll see it as a threat. If I’m going to get him to shift and return to his humanity, I have to go alone.”
I step closer, pressing a gentle kiss to each of my mates’ lips. The faint tang of my blood still lingers in my mouth, but I draw strength from their familiar warmth. “I love you,” I whisper, letting my gaze linger on each of them before turning away.
There’s nothing left to say, so I leave. Outside Shadowcarve’s towering walls, I feel the wind shift and the sun dip behind the looming spires of the academy. The ground is hard beneath my sandals, scattered with loose stones, and the distant shrieks of carrion birds circle overhead. With one fluid motion, I shift to my dragon form. It’s effortless now—the cool rush of air against my scales, the taste of freedom on the breeze, the thunderous beat of my wings as I lift off.
I soar toward the ancient ruins across from the temple of Bahamut, the landscape below fading into blurred patches of gray and green. My heartbeat thrums in time with the rhythmic pulse of my wings, and a subdued ache still gnaws at my injured shoulder.Yet, my mind focuses on one thing: Klauth.
I only hope he’s willing to listen to me.
Epilogue- Mina
