Page 13 of Thauglor
It’sthe day after the anointing ceremony, and Mina is already pissed. The rage radiates from her like heat from a forge, making my shell vibrate with sympathetic energy. Apparently, requested betrothals have made themselves known, including one of my line. The very thought makes my blood boil even in my confined state. Mina’s anger burns as hot as hellfire, putting my rage to shame. The fury blazes through our bond like molten metal, searing every nerve ending I possess.
My descendant must have a death wish going against our mate’s desire for her hatchlings to find their true mates. The stupidity of it makes my confined claws flex with the urge to teach him proper respect. How dare he even consider binding her precious daughters to unworthy males?
“I will not risk binding one of my daughters with a male who is unworthy,” she growls. The sound rumbles through her chest and into the shell, vibrating against my scales. I feel she’s so close to losing her composure entirely. Part of me wants to see it happen—wants to witness the full fury of her dragoness unleashed. My descendant is a backwards ass. He’s a product ofthis shitty timeline where females are treated like breeding stock instead of the treasures they are.
I feel the minute Klauth flexes his drake’s power. The energy washes over us like a cool breeze, and Mina settles under its influence. Her breathing slows from the rapid rhythm of barely controlled rage to something steadier. They speak of change, and goddess, I hope we can change the path dragonkind has taken. The current state of our species makes my stomach clench with disgust. I’m starting to understand why there are so few females now—who would want to mate when it means losing all autonomy?
We head to Mina’s classes, my egg cradled carefully in her arms. The familiar academic scents of parchment and ink fill the surrounding air. Klauth—thank the goddess for him—starts telling our mate how things used to be. His voice carries the weight of memory and ancient wisdom. Back when females were revered and treasured more than gold or land. When they were the divine gifts they truly are.
Females are the present and the future. They have the power to create or destroy life, the only creatures who undergo physical changes to protect their progeny. Their bodies transform with fierce grace, adapting to nurture new life even at great personal cost. He tells her about how things were in our time—the elaborate displays we made hoping to be found worthy of even a glance from a female. Males would spend decades perfecting their courtship flights, crafting gifts of impossible beauty, proving their worth through deed and devotion.
The first class we’re in, apparently Mina gets called on to announce what species she has in her nest. She rattles off the list with pride that makes my chest swell with emotion: “Red dragon, black dragon, basilisk, displacer beast, gryphon,gargoyle...” Her voice carries confidence that rings like struck steel. My heart sings with fierce satisfaction. My mate is prepared for any assault with the powerhouses she has gathered in her nest. Each species brings unique strengths, creating a fortress of protection.
The professor’s reaction is palpable—shock, respect, and perhaps a touch of fear. Few dragonesses can claim such diverse and powerful allies. The murmurs from other students ripple through the classroom like disturbed water. Some voices carry envy, others admiration, but all recognize the significance of what she’s accomplished.
The rest of the day moves in a blur of lectures and political maneuvering. Voices blend together in discussions of ancient law and modern compromise. The academic atmosphere feels stifling after the intensity of the morning’s revelations. Eventually, the steady rhythm of Mina’s heartbeat and the gentle sway of her movements lull me back toward sleep.
I fall asleep again, dreaming of the changes to come. In my dreams, I see a future where females rule as they should, where mates are chosen by heart rather than politics, where my beautiful, fierce dragoness gets the respect she deserves. Soon, I tell myself as consciousness fades. Soon I’ll be free to help make those dreams a reality.
Mina is upset,and she tells me about how unbalanced her nest is in soft whispers that barely disturb the air around my shell. Hervoice carries the weight of frustration and genuine concern. The warmth of her breath against the surface sends small vibrations through the cursed barrier. Her dragoness has lost all respect for my descendant because he needed his father and the basilisk to get her to pass out during her last yearly cycle. The humiliation in her tone makes my confined claws flex with shame for my bloodline.
She tells me about how she views each of the males in her nest, her voice dropping to an intimate murmur that only I can hear. As much as she loves Abraxis, her dragoness wants to force him into submission because he’s smaller than her. The protective instinct wars with her love, creating a tension that radiates through our bond like heat from a fever. She tells me that just in case, the toxin her displacer mate possesses can paralyze her for a short period if needed. The casual way she discusses being poisoned by her own mate makes my stomach clench with worry.
She couldn’t answer my descendant directly about how she views him—he’s not a threat to her dragoness. The words hang in the air like a death sentence. I know if it were me hearing that, I would have been heartbroken. The dismissal would have cut deeper than any blade, striking at the very core of what makes a dragon male worthy. She told Klauth honestly, and it’s not like he hasn’t informed me that Abraxis allows her to pin him during their encounters. The image makes my jaw clench with frustration.
I think deep down, Abraxis knows it’s safer for him to submit. His survival instinct probably overrides his pride. Black dragons are a stubborn bunch, but even we know when we’re outmatched. I can only hope my descendant comes to his sensesbefore Mina accidentally kills him. The thought of her grief over such a loss makes my chest tight with dread.
We return to classes, and the familiar academic atmosphere settles around us like a heavy blanket. Mina frets over what surname to use, her fingers drumming anxiously against my shell. The nervous energy transfers through the surface, making me want to comfort her. By eldest right, it should be mine—Mrithun carries weight and history. But by station, it should be Ragnar—royalty demands recognition and respect.
When she writes the last names, I supply mine for her through whatever connection we share. The letters flow from her pen with newfound confidence: “Mrithun.”She has it narrowed down to four options, mine happily included in the final selection. Pride swells in my chest like warm honey spreading through my veins.
Parts of their conversation drift to me through the bond, voices blending into a symphony of political discussion. The one part that echoes clearly in my shell is that Klauth plans to take the nest to verify the bonds. It’s an ancient rite that royals have to undergo to verify lineage and legitimacy. The ceremony carries weight that spans centuries, binding bloodlines and establishing territorial claims that last generations.
Mina is shocked at the amount of land that our nest will control. Her sharp intake of breath vibrates through the shell, and I feel her pulse quicken with excitement and trepidation. Most of the continent will fall under our dominion. Rivers, mountains, forests—all the places I once flew free will belong to us again. The scope of it makes my head spin even in confinement.
The power we’ll wield together staggers the imagination. Klauth’s royal bloodline combined with my ancient heritage,protected by Mina’s deadly abilities and diverse allies—we’ll be unstoppable. For the first time in centuries, I allow myself to dream not just of freedom, but of the empire we could build together. An empire where females are safe as they should be. Where mates choose each other freely, and the old ways return in all their glory.
The hope burns brighter than ever, fed by visions of soaring over lands that belong to us, of standing beside my fierce mate as we reshape the world.Soon, I tell myself. Soon we’ll claim what’s rightfully ours.
Mina tellsme before they leave that it’s the night they go before the priestesses for verification. Her voice carries tension that vibrates through the shell like a plucked string. She speaks of her concerns about going and the potential danger my descendant faces. The worry seeps through our bond like cold water in my veins. He’s not as strong as she is, and the priestesses will know it the moment they lay eyes on him. Their ancient sight sees through deception like daylight through glass.
She also tells me that she and Abraxis talked at length about what needs to happen. The conversation must have been difficult—I can taste the residual stress in her tone. Klauth is being named as the lead drake of the nest, taking the position my descendant should have claimed through strength rather than birthright.
‘Remember not to move until he says it’s safe. They will wait to see if you go off on your own or wait for the strongest male to say it’s safe,’I try to convey to her through our bond. The ancient protocols demand submission to the proper hierarchy, and any misstep could be fatal.
She tells me she’s hiding me in the poison garden with Iris to watch over me. I imagine the familiar memories of the scents of deadly botanicals drift around us—sweet blooms that mask lethal intent, leaves that whisper death with every rustle. It’s the safest place she can hide me, all things considered. She names the plants as she passes them, her voice taking on an almost loving tone: “Nightshade, bloodroot, death cap mushrooms, widow’s tears...” I swear my mate is either insane or brilliant. Any other species than what she is will surely die trying to retrieve me from this green fortress of toxins.
Mina kisses my shell before hiding me back within the foliage. Her lips feel warm against the cursed surface, sending comfort spiraling through my confined form. The gentle pressure speaks of love and protection that makes my chest tight with emotion. I manage to remain awake for a short period, listening to her footsteps fade into the distance, before getting pulled under by the familiar darkness.
When consciousness returns, Mina tells me about the results of the nest meeting. Her voice is heavy with exhaustion and raw emotion. For a female so young, she’s handled the events in her life with more grace than I ever could. The strength she shows in the face of constant challenges fills me with fierce pride and protective rage in equal measure.
As much as I hate hearing how upset my mate is, I see it from the males’ perspective too. They wanted to protect her and shield her from the harshness of the world—a noble impulse that wenttragically wrong. My descendant needs a smack upside his head for whatever question he asked, but it gets Mina to be raw and honest about how she feels. The vulnerability in her voice cuts through me like a blade. So for now, he’s safe from my wrath.
The root of all Mina’s problems, it seems, is that she’s afraid she’s not enough. The words taste like ashes in my mouth as they filter through our bond. Whatever that father of hers put her through makes my blood boil with murderous intent. I want to melt him into a pile of bubbling, liquefied flesh. I want to hear him scream as acid eats through bone and marrow. A deep growl escapes my confined throat as I imagine all the horrors I plan to dish out—slowly, methodically, making sure he understands exactly why he’s dying.
Mina hugs my egg tighter at the sound, her arms wrapping around the shell like a protective cocoon. The pressure feels wonderful against my cramped form. She kisses the surface again, and suddenly everything becomes right in my world. The rage transforms into something warm and golden that spreads through my chest like sunrise after the longest night.
She loves me sight unseen. She chose me before ever laying eyes on my true form. She fights for me, protects me, speaks to me as if I’m already free. The bond between us grows stronger each day, fed by her unwavering faith and my desperate devotion. Soon, I tell myself as her warmth seeps through the shell. Soon I’ll be free to show her exactly how much her love means to me, to prove myself worthy of the faith she’s placed in a cursed dragon she’s never seen.
