Page 11 of Thauglor
“I’m not putting the black one back. He’s staying with us,” she declares. Then I feel her holding us tight against her warm body. The contact sends contentment flooding through me like sunlight after endless night. My descendant is proud of our mate, and to be honest, so am I. “He can be unhappy all he wants. They’re mine, and he can’t have them,” she growls. Her voice stays low, dangerous, and laced with finality. I can feel how protective she is of us, the fierce possessiveness that radiates from her very core. Klauth confirms this is how she’s been from the start.
We really got lucky having a mate like her. After centuries of despair, after believing I would never know freedom again, hope blooms in my chest like fire catching dry tinder. She fights for us. She claims us. She defies anyone who would separate us. For the first time since my imprisonment began, I believe I might actually taste the sky again.
Chapter Ten
Our mate is angry.I can feel it through my shell like heat radiating from a forge. The fury pulses through our bond, making my blood sing with protective rage. “Let’s hear what he has to say for himself,” she growls. The sound vibrates through her chest and into my prison. I feel my descendant is close, but it’s not helping her.
“Mina, the black egg needs to be returned to the chamber,” a new male’s voice echoes through what sounds like a large space. His tone carries an authority that grates on my nerves like claws on stone.
“No,” our mate answers. I feel her temper flare like a wildfire catching dry grass. The heat of her anger seeps through the shell, warming my scales. She must be a mighty dragoness to radiate such power.
“Mina, it’s a direct order. Return the egg to the chamber,” the invading male says with insane calm. His measured tone only seems to stoke her fury higher. A deep, threatening growl escapes our mate’s lips. The sound rumbles through her body and into mine, making my dragon want to rend the flesh fromwhatever has upset her. My claws flex involuntarily against the smooth interior of my prison.
“I suggest you not push her,” my descendant warns. His voice is low and steady, much calmer than I would be in his position. The wisdom in his tone speaks of experience with her temper. “The egg chose her. Twice. By ancient rights, it’s hers until it hatches or goes dormant.”
“Let’s see how this all plays out,” a new male says. His voice is smooth and measured, like oil poured over troubled waters. “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.”
Three hundred and eighty-five years? The number hits me like a physical blow to the chest. That’s how long I slept this last time. Centuries of my life lost to cursed darkness while the world changed around me. The weight of all that lost time presses down on me like a mountain.
“Basilisk to Basilisk,” the new male continues, and I feel a chill run through my scales. Basilisks—creatures of stone gaze and deadly venom, born killers who can drop a dragon with a single look. “If I thought there was danger, don’t you think I’d handle it? You know what we’re capable of.” His words carry pointed menace, a quiet reminder of their shared abilities—their stone gaze that can freeze blood in veins, their venom that kills with agonizing efficiency, their unmatched lethality.
I feel our mate move with purposeful strides. Her footsteps echo off stone as she approaches another male. This one carries a buried bond with her that makes my chest tighten with unexpected jealousy. The connection between them tastes of old pain and unfinished business. He’s a basilisk too—why wouldhe resist the call of such a bond? The complexity of their relationship sends confusion spiraling through me.
“You forget one detail,” she says. Her voice drops low and lethal, carrying the promise of violence. The tone makes my blood heat with pride and desire. “I’m immune to both.”
The words freeze my thoughts like ice water in my veins. There’s only one dragon that one in a thousand births can boast immunity to both stone gaze and venom—a green dragon. The rarest of our kind, the most feared, the most hated. My mate is not just from rival bloodlines—she’s from a species that would normally kill me on sight. The irony tastes bitter as copper in my mouth, but the hope burns brighter than ever. The curse chose its words carefully indeed.
I feel our mate move away from everyone with sharp, decisive steps. Her heels click against stone as she goes elsewhere in the nest. By the vibrations and acoustics, she went somewhere she feels safe—probably her private chambers. The tension in her body slowly ebbs as the distance grows between her and the confrontation. Through our bond, I send what comfort I can, a gentle pulse of warmth and support that makes her grip on my shell tighten possessively.
For the first time in nearly four centuries, genuine hope blooms in my chest like fire catching tinder. My mate doesn’t just exist—she fights for me. She defies authority, ancient law, and deadly threats to keep me close. A green dragon claiming a black dragon’s egg should be impossible, yet here we are. The curse that seemed designed to keep me trapped forever might actually be the key to my salvation.
My descendant spoke true—by ancient rights, I belong to her now. No one can take me away as long as the bond holds strong.And judging by the fierce protectiveness radiating from her very core, that bond burns as bright as dragon fire itself.
Mina tellsus about what happened to the home of her youth and what it stirred up. Her voice carries old wounds that bleed fresh pain. She explains why she sent us away, and it tactically makes sense. The quickest way to destabilize her would be to take us from her grasp. Through our bond, horrible memories surface for her like poison bubbling up from infected wounds. I see glimpses of her past that make me want to burn the world to ash. The memory of her father and what he did to her haunts her every waking moment. The images flash through our connection—cruel hands, disappointed eyes, the weight of never being enough. It kills me not to be able to hold her, to shield her from those nightmares that claw at her mind.
The days blur together like watercolors in rain. Mina tells us about the world outside and the things she does every day. Her voice becomes my lifeline, the only warmth in this endless darkness. Today is our mate’s birthday, and she’s returned from her day. They scheduled an hour for us just to be with Mina. The gesture is quite thoughtful of them, recognizing the bond that ties us together across the barrier of cursed shells.
We spend weeks in and out of our mate’s care. Her hands always feel gentle when she holds us, her warmth seeping through the shells like liquid comfort. Sometimes, from what we’re told, Iris her familiar watches over us. The other dragoness carries aunique energy—protective but distant, like a sentinel standing guard.
Today we head to the nest of my birth, back to Blackhaven. The name sends shivers through my consciousness like ice down my spine. Mina’s emotions swirl all over the place—part excitement that tastes like copper pennies, part dread that feels heavy as lead in my chest. She has a bad feeling about a male who may try to attack today. Through our bond, I see the vision our mate has of the impending assault. Blue scales flash in her mind’s eye, lightning crackling between claws. Apparently, nothing has changed—blue dragons are still assholes after all these centuries.
We get shoved into the gryphon’s mate’s hands before I feel her shift. The transfer leaves me dizzy, disconnected from Mina’s warmth. I feel the residual energy from the male’s attack like static electricity crawling over the shell. The gryphon holding our carrier shudders with the impact of whatever force hits them. There’s a buildup of power that makes the air itself seem to vibrate, then an earth-shattering roar. Rage burns through the tether of the bond I share with my mate like molten metal through my veins. She just struck him with her breath weapon, and the satisfaction radiating from her fills me with fierce pride.
I fall asleep again for who knows how long this time. The darkness swallows me like deep water. The days blur together until I sense when she settles the bond with the basilisk and the displacer beast. Our mate is building a powerful nest for defense and offense, gathering allies like a queen preparing for war. My descendant gets called away to fight, and I feel how much that hurts my mate. The ache in her chest echoes through our connection like a physical wound. It’s never good to leave a dragoness unprotected, especially one as valuable as ours.
The next day comes with a tension that makes my scales prickle even within the shell. Mina has sent Klauth away with another mate of hers, and she hides me in her poison garden. The surrounding air feels thick with deadly plants and protective enchantments. “Your time will come. I will survive this, and we will be together,” she whispers. Her words taste of determination and desperate hope.
I feel her kiss the shell of my egg. The gentle pressure of her lips sends warmth spiraling through me like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. I drift off into a deep sleep, but worry gnaws at me like acid. I can only hope my old friend hatches in time to save our mate, or my dreams of freedom and love will be short-lived.
What feels like forever later, Mina comes for me. Her footsteps sound different—lighter, relieved. “Klauth hatched in time to keep me safe,” she whispers to me. Her voice carries exhaustion but also triumph, which makes my heart race with joy.
“You could have been killed. I should have been at your side,” I yell into the void of my prison. The frustration tears at me like claws, making my confined limbs ache with the need to protect her.
“Shhh,” she murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the smooth shell. Her breath feels warm against the surface. “Your time will come, I swear it.” The promise settles over me like a blanket, soothing the raw edges of my fear.
“You, of all people, know how much I talk to my eggs. Don’t act like this is new,” Mina says to someone in the room. Her tone carries a fond exasperation. It makes me laugh—a soundless vibration that shakes my cramped frame. More than likely, my descendant is jealous of the attention she gives us.
I feel the minute Klauth touches the shell of my egg. The contact hits me like lightning, and suddenly I feel like I can draw in a deep breath for the first time in ages. The oppressive weight on my chest lifts slightly. He’s free, which means my time is coming. Hope blooms in my chest like spring flowers breaking through winter soil.
