Page 17 of Queen of the Cursed Egg
“Why not? Large mated nests were common back in the day,” Klauth comments as he sips at his coffee. The rich, bitter aroma wafts across the table, mingling with the scent of old books.
“Mates between dragons are rare now,” Abraxis says sadly, his fingers tracing patterns on the wooden table.
“According to the Accords, they required the taking of a dragon mate about five hundred years ago. Then shortly after that, the betrothal system.” I read from the tome before me, the pages thin and delicate beneath my fingers, the ink faded with age.
“I wonder what changed to need that to happen,” Thauglor muses as he flips through the pages. The sound of each turning page is like a whisper of the past, secrets being revealed one by one.
“About two hundred years after you were imprisoned, there was some sort of fungus or infection that affected eggs and females,” I mention, then reach out to turn the page to the corresponding section. The paper is cool and slightly rough against my fingertips. “No one knows what it was or why it happened. It feels like someone different took over writing the book after the illness was mentioned.” The handwriting changes subtly, the strokes more hurried, less careful, as if the writer was afraid of what they were recording.
“Could be the elders of that time redacting parts of the history to protect their interests,” Klauth suggests, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Abraxis agrees, his voice tight with disdain.
“It definitely wouldn’t be the first time they did it either,” I say as I stare at the letters, the pile seeming to grow larger the longer I look at it. “We should send some sort of answer to them, even if it’s declining the offer.” As I pick up the letters, the door swings open, and Mina steps in. The air in the room shifts immediately, charged with her presence. I freeze, feeling like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, the damning evidence clutched in my fingers.
Her shoulders slump as she takes in the scene, her eyes dulling as they fix on the letters in my hands. The scent of her—ozone and something uniquely her—fills the room, but it’s tinged with the sour note of disappointment. “More?” she asks, her voice soft but edged with steel as she steps closer and starts opening the letters. The sound of tearing paper is sharp in the suddenly quiet room.
We freeze, watching her look at each letter, her expression unreadable but her body tense. She sits the envelopes in one pile and the letters in another, her movements precise and controlled, too controlled. “I told Finlay that we were abolishing the betrothal system,” Mina says, not bothering to look up as she keeps sorting the letters. Her fingers move quickly, efficiently, the rustle of paper punctuating her words. “He helped me draft a response that is polite and firm.” Her eyes remain focused on the letters before her, but I can see the slight tremble in her hands, the way her jaw clenches between words. “I will send out the drafts tomorrow. Thankfully, he has a copy machine, and we made about a hundred copies to start with. I already have them signed and put them in envelopes, ready to be sent out.” When Mina finally looks up, I see the hollow sadness there, like a light has been dimmed behind her eyes. The sight of it makes my chest ache.
I glance between the dragons, and they nod, silently sending me to her. The air feels heavy with unspoken emotions as I quickly close the distance and wrap her up in my arms, holding her tight against my chest. Her body is warm but rigid in my embrace, her heartbeat rapid against my ribs. “Abraxis will keep sorting the letters, so we have the addresses. Then as a nest, we can help address the letters to the respective nests,” I offer, releasing her but holding out my hands, palms up in invitation. The scale on my chest pulses in time with hers.
Her eyes flick from me to the dragons in the nest, then back to me again, the gold of her irises darkening with emotion. “Yeah, I need to get away from all of this,” she says, waving her hand at the letters, the gesture dismissive but heavy with fatigue. The sound of her voice is tight, controlled, but I can hear the weariness beneath it. “If you’re feeling inspired and want to help, the sealed envelopes are on the table in the private living room.” Mina takes my hand, her fingers cool against my palm, and waits for me to lead her out of the room.
“Where do you want to go?” I pull her close and wrap my arm over her shoulder, holding her tight against my side. Her body heat seeps through her clothing, warming my skin where we touch. The scent of her hair—clean and faintly floral—fills my nostrils as I bend my head toward hers.
“The hot springs. Let’s grab Ziggy along the way,” she suggests, her voice brightening slightly at the thought of escape. We walk through the halls, our footsteps echoing on the stone floors, and pass the living room. There’s Ziggy shifted, sprawled out in front of the fireplace, his displacer beast form a dark shadow against the dancing flames. The heat from the fire reaches us even from the doorway, a welcome warmth in the cool corridors.
“Ziggy, we’re going to the hot springs. Come with us,” Mina calls out, her voice carries across the room. Ziggy shifts back immediately, his form rippling and changing in a fluid motion that still fascinates me after all this time. The surrounding air seems to shimmer briefly as he takes his human form.
“I’m game,” he responds eagerly, his voice low and playful. He races over and takes her free hand, his movements lithe and predatory even in human form. The three of us walk together, our bodies forming a protective cocoon around Mina. “What are we doing? Just relaxing?” Ziggy asks, his eyes bright with curiosity.
“Me,” Mina answers simply, and I almost choke on my spit, the air catching in my throat with an audible gasp. I glance over at Ziggy over the top of Mina’s head, and he mouths‘she’s feisty’to me, his eyes crinkling with amusement. I only dare to nod, agreeing with him, the motion slight but enough to communicate my understanding. The scale on my chest pulses more strongly, responding to the growing heat between us.
Ziggy races ahead and shoves open the door to the hot springs, releasing a cloud of steam that caresses my face. As soon as Mina hears the heavy wooden door close with a thud, she strips out of theworn cotton tee shirt and form-fitting leggings. The dim lighting casts shadows across her alabaster skin, highlighting every curve and dip of her body.
Mina walks slowly into the heated waters, her movements deliberate and hypnotic. The sulfurous mist swirls around her slender frame until she fully submerges, and only the silver tips of her horns remain visible above the rippling surface.
I strip down, my skin prickling from the contrast between the cool air and the rising steam. I slip into the water as silently as possible, feeling the heat envelop me like a lover’s embrace. The mineral-rich water soothes my tense muscles instantly. Ziggy runs and cannonballs into the water, sending crystalline droplets everywhere that catch the light like tiny diamonds. Shaking my head, I watch Ziggy purposefully floating around, his muscular body cutting through the water as he tries to draw Mina out of hiding.
I feel like I’m in the middle of a horror movie—you know the killer is out there, but not where. The water grows suddenly still, and the silence presses against my eardrums. Without warning, Ziggy is pulled under with a startled gasp, the water churning violently around him. Within seconds, he phases and appears on the stone edge of the pool with Mina holding onto him, water cascading down their intertwined bodies.
“Silly mate...” He purrs to her, his voice deep and rumbling like distant thunder, and she laughs, the sound echoing off the cave walls.
“Not silly,” she counters, her voice husky with desire. She nudges him until he’s lying on his back, the hard stone beneath him contrasting with her soft touch. She climbs onto him, her wet skin gleaming in the half-light. “You did exactly what I wanted you to do.” Her lips ghost over his, so close but not touching, teasing with promised pleasure. I watch, transfixed, as she slides back, taking himinto her with a sharp intake of breath that sends a shudder through my core.
Mina throws her head back, exposing the elegant column of her throat, before she sits up, allowing herself to adjust to him. Her hair clings to her skin in dark tendrils. “Lee, come join us.” Her hands come up and cup her breasts, her fingertips pressing into the soft flesh as she grinds on Ziggy with languid, circular motions.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I laugh, my voice rough with arousal as I climb up out of the water. Rivulets trace paths down my chest and abdomen, cooling rapidly in the open air.
“Get the basket on your way over,” Mina says, motioning to the wicker basket near the recliner, her eyes never leaving mine, pupils dilated with hunger.
I grab the basket, then open it, the hinges creaking softly. There are plugs and several types of lubes in there, plus restraints. The metal gleams coldly against the dark lining. “Mina?” I hold up the metal cuffs with the elbow restraints, my pulse quickening at the implications.
She purrs so deeply at the sight that I can almost feel the vibration in my chest. “For when I want to give you babies. So I don’t accidentally hurt you. I love the taste of your blood a little too much.” She leans forward, raising her ass just a little, her spine arching gracefully. “I want both of you... Please, Lee.” She purrs, and I’m a dead man. The scent of her desire mingles with the mineral tang of the hot springs, intoxicating me.
I’d give her the world if I could. My mouth goes dry as I move toward them, lube in hand.
Here goes everything.
