Page 61 of Queen of the Cursed Egg
Klauth carries me back to my room, his footsteps sure and steady despite the burden, and walks straight into the bathroom with me. The cool air raises goosebumps along my exposed skin, a stark contrast to the humid heat of the springs. He sits me down on the bench, the cold marble a shock against my bare thighs, and leans over to run water in the tub for my bath. The rushing sound fills the tiled room, steam already beginning to rise from the hot water, carrying the faint scent of the lavender bath salts he’s added.
“You don’t have to run my bath,” I say, walking over and resting my hand on his shoulder, feeling the tense muscles beneath the fine fabric of his shirt.
“I want to.” He lowers his eyes, thick lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, and I hear him exhale, the sound carrying a weight of emotion. “We almost lost you.” When he looks up, the devastation in his eyes makes my chest ache, as though someone has reached in and squeezed my heart with an icy hand. “I felt you when you pushed yourself too far.” His hand holds his chest as he looks at me as if his heart is going to come out of his body, knuckles white with tension. “It felt like I was right there with you.” He lowers his head and draws in a deep breath that expands his chest, the scent of brimstone intensifying with his emotion. “Just because you can do something doesn’t always mean that you should.”
My chest hurts watching Klauth hold it together, the pain a physical pressure behind my breastbone. He’s hiding his fear and pain thebest he can, like drakes are expected to do. But I can see it in the tight line of his jaw, feel it in the barely perceptible tremor of his hands. I lean on his back and wrap my arms around him, feeling the heat of him seep into my still-cool skin, and just hold him. The solid breadth of him beneath my cheek grounds me to the present moment. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I won’t do it again.” Tears slip down my cheeks, soaking the back of his dress shirt, the expensive fabric darkening beneath the moisture. My tears fall silently, like they always do. After all, to show weakness as a Bladesong child of Abaddon meant a beating, or running the gauntlet to the point of exhaustion. The phantom ache of old bruises ghosting across my skin at the memory.
Klauth pulls away and looks down at me, his gaze taking in every detail of my face with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. His gaze softens as he kneels before me, the tile hard against his knees, and reaches up to wipe my tears away, his thumb rough against my cheek. “Shhh, my treasure. I know you were trying to protect your mates. Mages can’t sustain their shield long. Especially if you keep hitting them with your breath weapon as your dragon,” he whispers as he spreads my legs and wedges himself between them to hug me. His arms encircling my waist, his breath warm against my collarbone.
“Good to know,” I reply, kissing the crown of his head and breathing in his scent. Brimstone and something uniquely him—ancient forests after a lightning strike, power barely contained. “Our plan worked; they tracked Thauglor and me.” I pause and we pull apart, looking at each other, the significance of this realization settling between us like a physical presence.
Klauth springs to his feet, the movement so swift it creates a breeze that cools my damp skin, and I throw on my robe, the silk clinging to my not-quite-dry body, before we take off running through the house. My bath is the least of our concerns. The sound of our bare feet slapping against the hardwood floors echoes through the corridors,accompanied by the swish of my robe and Klauth’s heavier breathing.
We find the family gathered in the living room watching our children and Cora’s children play. Their high-pitched giggles and the thump of small bodies wrestling creating a cheerful soundtrack that contrasts with the gravity of our news. The scent of family permeates the space—the different dragon musks, Ziggy’s feline tang, the earthy solidity of Vaughn, all mingling with the clean smell of children and the lingering aroma of dinner.
“We may have a problem,” I announce, glancing over at Klauth, who nods, giving me silent permission to take the lead. My voice cuts through the children’s play, causing heads to turn, conversations to still. “The mages may track Thauglor and I here. We need a plan for the hatchlings and how to keep everyone safe.” I stare at Thauglor and Abraxis, their eyes meeting mine with understanding, the air between us charged with unspoken communication.
“Ziggy, I need your family here as fast as possible,” Abraxis says, his voice carrying an authority that brooks no argument. As soon as the words leave his lips, Ziggy phases and leaves the nest to seek out his family members, the air where he stood momentarily shimmering like heat over asphalt before settling.
“We enlist the help of the displacer beasts to phase the children and their mothers into the hidden chamber. The only way in and out is phasing,” Abraxis says as he stares deep into my eyes, his irises reflecting the overhead light like polished obsidian.
Nodding slowly, my gaze falls to my children, and I watch them play with Cora’s kids, their scaled and furred forms catching the light with each movement, tiny wings flapping in excitement. Try as I may, I can’t force a vision this time, the effort creating a dull throb behind my eyes. I draw in a rough breath as I shift my eyes to my dragon’s, feeling the subtle change as my pupils narrow to vertical slits.
“What’s wrong?” Balor asks as he turns me so that his back is to the room, moving me into a corner. The scent of his concern is sharp, like citrus and metal.
“I can’t see what’s going to happen,” I whisper, just loud enough for only him to hear, my voice barely disturbing the air between us.
“Maybe you’re too stressed? Do you want me to use my basilisk to get you to relax?” He arches a single obsidian brow at me, the movement drawing attention to the fine lines that have begun to form at the corners of his eyes.
“Let’s try it,” I force a smile, then lean to the side, raising my voice to address the room. “Don’t come over here. Balor is going to let his basilisk surface to help me relax.” I yell to the others to warn them, my voice carrying in the now-quiet room. My mates know what he’s about to do and what I’m trying to do. They nod and attempt to focus on the babies playing, the tension in their shoulders belying their casual postures. We hold hands to ground me to something real while I try to force a vision. His fingers are warm and solid against mine, anchoring me to the present even as I reach for glimpses of what’s to come.
“Look deep into my eyes, my beloved. Watch the red eclipse my eyes, watch the slits rise and the tingle start at the back of your mind. Let me in,” Balor says, his voice reverberating, gaining depth and resonance until it seems to bypass my ears entirely and speak directly to my brain. I watch the crimson slowly eclipse the human tones of his eyes, spreading from the pupil outward like blood in water. All that’s left are the blood-red serpentine eyes of his basilisk staring at me, the color so intense it seems to pulse with a life of its own.
As I stare, the world falls away. Sights, sounds, even the colors around us fade away to nothing, like paint washed from a canvas. All that is left is the blood red of his eyes, filling my vision until there is nothing else.I feel as if I’m falling then floating, my stomach dropping like I’ve stepped off acliff, and the scenery changes. We’re inside what looks like a castle, the stone walls damp with condensation that reflects the torchlight in eerie patterns. Dozens of mages stand around a pool of water, their robes rustling with each movement, the sound echoing off the high ceiling. The air is thick with the scent of herbs and something metallic, like blood, but not quite.
“Where are Jakob and the others? Why haven’t they returned? It was only two wyrms, one ancient and a young one. They are not stronger than us.” A mage screams and slams his hands down on the edge of the pool, the impact sending ripples across the water’s surface, distorting the images reflected there.
Another mage moves and waves his hand over the water, his sleeve dripping as it brushes the surface, and the scenery blurs. He’s searching for something, his muttered incantations creating a hum that vibrates through the stone floor. I recognize my territory as the image stabilizes briefly, the familiar mountain range and forests of our home, then it blurs past it. They can’t sense us here. There’s something about the stone in this mountain that makes it impossible for them to see us. The revelation soothes something in me, a knot of tension I didn’t realize I was carrying loosening slightly. My bloodline and flight are safe within this mountain. Wait, that explains why the green dragons built their stronghold here.They knew. My ancestors knew something in this mountain would protect us. The realization settles into my bones with the weight of certainty.
I pull out of the vision and blink my eyes rapidly, the room spinning slightly as I readjust to the present. Balor’s eyes are returning to normal, the red receding like a tide pulling back from shore, revealing the familiar irises I know so well. “Is that what your visions look like?” he leans in and whispers to me, his breath warm against my ear, carrying the scent of mint and something darker, more primal. Somehow, he saw what I was seeing, the shared experience creating a new bond between us. He gives my hands a squeeze, and it makes sense. Between my scale embedded in his chest and directcontact with him, I shared the vision with him, our connection transcending physical boundaries.
“My treasure?” Thauglor approaches slowly, his footsteps deliberately heavy to announce his presence, his scent of smoke and cedar washing over me.
“When our guests leave, I will explain everything,” I say, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. With as wary as Abraxis’s family is about what they think I can do, I don’t need to put them any more on edge. For now, I’ll keep this knowledge to myself and Balor, the secret a warm weight between us. In the meantime, my mates and I need to make escape plans for the hatchlings and young mothers of my flight, the responsibility settling on my shoulders like a familiar cloak, heavy but necessary.
CHAPTER 42
Balor
Several hours later…
Mina sits perchedon my lap facing the others, her weight a welcome pressure against my thighs, her body radiating heat that seeps through my clothing. “There’s something about this mountain that is protecting us,” she says, her voice steady despite the tremor I feel through her body, a subtle vibration that betrays her anxiety.
“What do you mean?” Abraxis asks as he passes out glasses of bourbon, the amber liquid catching the low lamplight, swirling hypnotically with each movement. The rich, woody aroma fills the air, mingling with the scent of old books and the distinctive musk of multiple dragons that permeates our living space.
“My vision, when the mages used what looks like a viewing pool, they stopped here for a second, then moved on. It’s like they couldn’t sense us. It’s probably how my dad made it to over two hundred without being hunted down.” Mina looks down, her eyelashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. I pull her back against meand hug her, feeling the ridge of her spine press against my chest, the subtle texture of scales erupting along her shoulders as her emotions surge.
“I noticed veins of clear quartz and obsidian in the mountain when I was digging,” Klauth says as he paces around the interior of the room, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor, reverberating through the structure with each stride. The temperature in the room rises slightly with his agitation, the air shimmering near his form like heat waves off sun-baked asphalt.
