Page 18 of Thauglor
Mina told me about this Idris person and what she suspects of him. Her voice always drops to a dangerous whisper when she speaks his name. She doesn’t believe he’s able to lead a hatchlings’ field trip, let alone an entire barrack. The scorn in her tone could melt steel.
I hear a beep, then clicking that echoes off stone walls. Mina’s movements make me shift in the carrier, her movements sharp and purposeful. She told me she has to enter commands into a terminal, then the computer executes her orders in a simulation. Her fingers fly across the keys with the precision of a master pianist, each tap carrying deadly intent.
What feels like forever later, she finishes, and I hear a slam followed by a decisive click. She’s agitated—I can taste her frustration through our bond like copper pennies mixed with ozone. Her gut tells her he’s not qualified, especially after her last head-to-head with him. If she’s right, then an unqualified drake has been in control of a border legion. That alone puts the continent in danger, not just the lives at the fort.
I can feel the pulses of power through my mate as the simulated sounds of war echo around us—explosions that make my shell vibrate, the screech of metal on metal, the distant roar of dying dragons. “In about five minutes or less, I’ll have your job,” she says to the male she’s challenging. Her voice carries the certainty of an executioner’s axe. I can only imagine what the youngling said to get her to react like that.
The final explosion echoes through the chamber, and I feel the rage hit a peak within my mate. Her fury burns through our bond like acid eating through stone. “You are not qualified to call the shots for an outpost,” she practically roars. The sound reverberates off the walls with enough force to crack lesser stone. “Send him to Blackhaven—I want answers.”
She’s sending him for interrogation. Smart, smart mate. Black dragons are not known for being gentle with hostages—we have creative ways of extracting truth that leave permanent scars. She thinks like a warrior queen, seeing three moves ahead of everyone else.
When the male is removed, I feel my mate relax. The tension bleeds from her muscles like steam escaping a pressure valve. She then goes into an in-depth explanation of her tactical decisions, her voice carrying the confidence of someone who knows she’s outmaneuvered every opponent.
Something shifts in the surrounding air, and I feel Mina pull my egg out of the carrier. Her hands cradle me with reverent care. Within seconds, I’m gifted her sight—the world explodes into color and detail that makes my consciousness sing with joy. She shows me how she set up her defensive line and then sets it in motion. The tactical brilliance takes my breath away.
‘Think of black dragons as a tank unit,’I teach my young mate more about my proud bloodline. The knowledge flows between us like warm honey.‘We are hard to kill and even harder to penetrate our scales because of the pattern.’Maybe, just maybe, Bahamut may bless us with a hatchling that is a perfect blend of our species one day. The thought makes my chest tight with longing.
‘Our wing joint close to our body and the soft skin under it are the only two vulnerable spots we have,’I continue, sharing centuries of battle wisdom. I can feel when that knowledge makes sense to her because it’s where my descendant was hit during the battle. Understanding flows through our bond like lightning striking.
‘Our acid, as we age, becomes more potent. Also with age, we become able to ignite our acid and turn it into a burning flame ball of death. Combine it with a red dragon’s fire, and it will burn for hours.’I tell Mina about one of the favored attacks of mine and Klauth’s. The memory tastes of victory and brotherhood. I’d lay down the acid in precise patterns, then he would follow up and ignite it. Such a perfect partnership, deadly as it was beautiful.
After two replays that Mina shows me, I teach her everything I know about all the species she has on the screen. Her hunger for knowledge makes my heart swell with pride. She would whisper a soft “what else?” any time I would pause, her voice carrying desperate eagerness that makes my throat tight with emotion.
My mate is brilliant, and eager to learn, absorbing tactical knowledge like parched earth drinks rain. She will be a mighty queen when she reaches wyrm status—a ruler whose enemies will tremble at the mention of her name. The vision of our future together, leading our people with wisdom forged in battle, burns brighter than dragon fire in my mind.
Mina spentthe evening telling me about the war games and the formations she had set in place. Her voice carries the satisfaction of a predator who has outmaneuvered every opponent. Step by step, she told me about the three visions, and I’ll be damned—she’s more of a weapon than her insane father ever could have imagined. Her tactical mind operates on levels that would make ancient generals weep with envy.
Night comes, and she knows the minute her gargoyle mate is abducted. The knowledge hits our bond like ice water flooding my veins. Mainly because the displacer beast from her nest is the one who stole him. Well, his clan is on abduction duty tonight. The irony tastes bitter as copper on my tongue.
Mina rises with a purpose that makes the air around us crackle with energy. She works on a second notebook for the gargoyle mate, her pen scratching across paper with urgent precision. “There are things that will trigger each action,” she says, her voice steady despite the chaos building around us. I feel her hug my egg tighter, her arms wrapping around my shell like protective armor.
“Your time is upon us. Sometime tomorrow I’ll send you away with Ziggy—he’ll place you near where I think I’ll be.” Her words sink through the shell and make my heart fill with dread that tastes like ash. The moment I’ve waited centuries for approaches, but the circumstances fill me with terror for her safety.
“I’m not sure what or why, but I can’t shift. I can’t feel the bonds. When you can’t feel me, come quickly. Balor and I can only do so much until I can shift again.” Her confession sends panic racing through my confined form like liquid lightning. She presses a kiss to my shell, the warmth of her lips seeping through the cursed barrier like a benediction, before going back to bed.
When she wakes again, I feel the anxious energy moving through her like electricity before a storm. Her restlessness transfers through our bond, making my scales prickle with sympathetic tension. Who knows how many hours later, another displacer beast arrives, and Mina gives him items and instructions. Her movements carry the sharp efficiency of someone preparing for war.
I feel her pull me free from the carrier, and then I hear the rasp of something sliding over the shell—fabric or leather wrapping around me for protection. “I’m sending you with my mate Zigmander. He’s a pack lord displacer beast.” Her voice carries trust mixed with desperate hope.
‘No, it’s too soon. Stay with Klauth—he will kill anything that gets near you. Please, my love, don’t go.’The words tear from my soul like molten metal. I never beg, but for her I would drop to my knees, lower my head, and spread my wings wide in submission. My life is hers to enjoy or end. The terror of losing her just as freedom approaches makes my chest feel like it’s cracking apart.
“Your time is upon us,” Mina practically coos, her voice carrying anticipation that makes my blood sing despite my fear. Then I realize—I can break free because my mate needs me. My freedom is within reach at last. Rage builds in my chest like a furnace being fed fresh fuel, wanting to burn the world to ash to find her and keep her safe.
I feel her kiss the shell again, and I settle some, the warmth of her affection flowing through our bond like liquid sunlight. “You get to torch the headmaster with your acid.” Her voice carries a dark satisfaction that makes my heart race with bloodthirsty anticipation.
‘Gladly, mate. Anything you want, anything your heart desires of me, I will do without question.’I place my taloned hand on the shell, hoping she knows how I feel—that she owns me completely, body and soul. The devotion burns through me hotter than dragon fire.
“I will tug on the bond and force as much power down it to you as I can.” Mina’s voice is steady, calm for someone who knows their life is in mortal danger. Her courage makes my chest swell with fierce pride. “Balor can only do so much to save me. We need your acid to turn him into a puddle of goo.”
I almost want to laugh at her mentioning my turning her enemy to goo. It’s accurate, but funny coming from her lips—like hearing poetry spoken in the language of violence. The mental image of melting the headmaster into a steaming puddle fills me with savage anticipation.
“My scales will not be harmed by your acid, and I will shield Balor from it. Come swiftly when I call for you—our lives depend on it.” She kisses my egg once more, the contact sending warmth spiraling through my confined form, then hands me off to waiting arms.
This time I don’t fall asleep. Something Mina did between last night and this morning keeps me awake—alert and ready. Every nerve ending I possess is primed for action. I am so ready to prove that I am worthy of my mate, to show her what centuries of devoted waiting have forged. I’ve waited long enough to claimmy place at her side, to protect what’s mine with fire and talon instead of helpless rage.
The anticipation builds in my chest like pressure in a steam engine. Soon, I’ll taste freedom. Soon, I’ll hold my mate in my arms instead of feeling her only through cursed barriers. Soon, anyone who threatens what’s mine will learn why black dragons were once feared across continents.
Chapter Seventeen
