Page 25 of Queen of the Cursed Egg
‘Someone’s here. I can feel it.’Under the shirt I’m wearing, I raise my scales like armor to protect my ribs and stomach. The sensation is strange—like goosebumps but firmer, each scale sliding into place with microscopic clicks only I can hear.
‘What do you need us to do?’Thauglor asks, and I can see his slight movement in the shadow on the rock face, a ripple of darkness against the stone.
‘Just wait. Worst case, I’ll electrocute him,’I say before picking up my basket and walking back to the main part of the compound. So far, so good. I keep myself in Thauglor’s and Abraxis’s line of sight as I move, my footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path. As I pass the toolshed, the air shifts—a subtle change in pressure, the displacement of molecules that sends a warning tingle down my spine. It doesn’t take long before I feel the press of a blade just above my kidney. The cold metal seeps through my thin shirt, a stark contrast to the warmth of the day.
“If you scream, I’ll kill you,” the voice hisses as a thick arm wraps around my throat. The pressure against my windpipe is immediate, and the stench of sweat and leather fills my nostrils. I recognize the voice and sigh, the sound barely escaping through my constricted airway.
“What’s the matter, Zeroth? Still mad daddy didn’t betroth me to you?” As the words slip from between my lips, his grip falters slightly.‘It’s Zeroth, one of my dad’s generals of his Shadowblades,’I tell Thauglor, and I feel his grip on our bond tighten, a psychic squeeze that’s both reassuring and frightening.
“You should have been mine,” he hisses in my ear, his hot breath making my skin crawl. I can smell the bitter tang of old blood on him, the metallic scent of a killer who doesn’t bother to wash away his sins.
“Dad has different plans for me from what I heard. Dracolich, an undead dragon juggernaut.” The sarcasm is strong with this one today. The words taste sharp on my tongue. I feel Balor before I see him—a shift in the air pressure. The subtle scent of his cologne carried on the breeze. He comes strolling around the side of the greenhouse, his footsteps measured and confident on the stone path.
“Mind telling me where you’re taking my mate?” His voice reverberates, and I close my eyes, listening to what happens. The sound waves ripple through the air, making my ear drums vibrate pleasantly.
I can feel the male that’s holding me waver behind me, his heartbeat quickening against my back. “Her father wants her brought to him. He has the mages ready to change her.” His voice cracks slightly on the last word, fear making it pitch higher.
My dragoness wants to tear this male apart for what he just said. I can feel her rage bubbling under my skin, making my temperature rise. “Where is Abaddon?” Balor asks, his voice reverberating again, deep and dangerous.
“The temple of Garyx on the Isle of Woe. He’s in the catacombs below the temple.” His voice wavers again, and I feel the blade removed from my back to be pressed to my throat. The edge is cold against my skin, but not as cold as the dread that pools in my stomach. My scales rise to protect my throat, each one emerging with a slight scraping sensation, and I stare at Balor as I see my other mates closing in on us. Their scents—each unique but collectively familiar—wrap around me like a security blanket.
“Sadly, I don’t think you’ll make the reunion if everyone doesn’t stop moving.” He presses the blade harder against my scales, not harming me at all. The pressure is there, but it’s like pressing a butter knife against armor.
“I’ll reunite with my father soon enough, don’t you worry.” Before the male can react, I shift my hands, allowing my silver talons to emerge. The transformation burns slightly, bones cracking and reshaping. I reach back and sink one hand’s worth of talons into his thigh, feeling them pierce fabric then flesh, warm blood spilling over my fingers, and with the other, I grab the hand holding the blade. His skin is clammy against mine, fear making him sweat.
“Say hi to Null for me.” I channel as much lightning through my hands and into him as I can. The acrid scent of scorched flesh and ozone fills the air, burning my nostrils and making my eyes water. His scream is high and piercing, cutting off abruptly as his vocal cords fry. All the bottled-up rage at my father is channeled into this moment, making my vision blur with red. The minute he falls away, I spin and shift into my dragon, bones cracking loudly as they rearrange, muscles stretching painfully as they expand. My mates scatter as I open my maw to strike the male with my lightning breath weapon, leaving a blackened hole where he once stood. The ground is charred and smoking, tiny embers glowing around the edges of the crater.
As soon as it’s over and I stare at the hole for several moments, I lay down, my massive body creating a small tremor as it connects with the earth. The grass beneath me flattens, releasing a fresh, green scent. Thauglor instructs my nest to climb onto my back, his voice a calming rumble in the charged air. I need to calm myself, and having all of them on my back—their weights settling between my scales, their hands stroking my hide soothingly—makes me rethink my plans of razing the temple of Garyx to the ground.For now.
Hours later,and I’m pacing the interior of my public living room. My footsteps echo against the stone floor, each step marking the rhythm of my anxiety. The scent of cedar and smoke from the hearth fills the air, but does little to calm my nerves. My eggs are safe within Balor’s coils. His scales absorbing the soft amber lighting, his body forming a living fortress around my precious clutch. But I’m still on edge. Every sound from outside makes my skin prickle, my senses heightened to an almost painful degree.
“Mina, are you okay?” Abraxis asks and steps into my path, his warm body suddenly blocking my restless movement. The scent of him—spice and leather—momentarily grounds me.
“I know they’re your family, but...” I look back at Balor and how he’s carefully coiled around my eggs. His scales black as the void, absorbing rather than reflecting the firelight as they shift with each breath. The males in my nest, I can rationalize that my eggs are safe with them. Abraxis’s dad, he’s the one I’m worried about. My stomach knots at the thought. “I’m not sure how my dragoness will react to your dad near our eggs.”
I go back to pacing, my bare feet silent now on the plush area rug, and glancing towards the door, knowing they’re due to arrive any minute now. The heavy wooden door looms in my vision, a barrier soon to be breached. My palms are slick with sweat, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“Mina.” Ziggy attempts to stop me, his voice soft as velvet, and I pause for a moment. His slender fingers reach for me, cool against my overheated skin. “I can always phase the eggs away to the sealed chamber if you’re that uncomfortable.” He strokes down my biceps, the gentle pressure sending shivers through me, and I nod.
“Okay.” Biting my bottom lip until I taste the metallic tang of blood, I walk over and snuggle next to Leander, clinging to him. His body is warm against mine, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath my ear.The scent of cinnamon and winter storms that always cling to him fills my nostrils, comforting in its familiarity.
“Mate?” Thauglor walks over and stands in front of us, his massive form casting a shadow over where we sit. The floor vibrates slightly with each of his heavy steps. “I mean no disrespect, but I wish to understand something.”
“Why I’m holding onto Lee instead of one of the dragons in the nest,” I say, watching Thauglor nod yes. His sapphire blue eyes gleam in the dim light, curiosity clear. “It’s simple really. I’m afraid of hurting him, so I won’t react aggressively if I’m holding onto him.” I laugh a little, the sound brittle even to my own ears, and kiss Leander under his jaw, purring softly. The scrape of his stubble against my lips grounds me further in reality.
“This is why you are the best queen for the continent.” Thauglor reaches out and cups my cheek, his palm rough with centuries of battle, just as Abraxis’s parents arrive. The door swings open, bringing with it a gust of cool air that carries unfamiliar scents.
“What did we miss?” Cerce asks as she walks in with Vox, Cora, Warwick, and their two children. The combined scent of strangers—perfume, leather assaults my senses. My scales stand on edge, rising beneath my skin with tiny prickles of pain, seeing four additional bodies in my home I wasn’t expecting. The room suddenly feels too small, the air too thick to breathe.
“Mom, I thought I told you only you and Dad. Mina is very uncomfortable with what we need to tell you.” Abraxis places himself between me and his parents, which is a first for him. His shoulders are tense and his wings are spread slightly, his stance wide and protective. Usually, he tries to force the interaction. The tension in the room crackles like static electricity, making the fine hairs on my arms stand up.
“What could possibly be happening that the whole family can’t know about?” Vox asks, then looks over at Balor’s basilisk coiled up in the center of the living room. His gaze is sharp, assessing, and I feel my dragoness stir in response. “Cora, why don’t you and your family go home?” He motions for them to leave, still staring at Balor, whose coils tighten visibly around my eggs.
“Why do we have to leave?” Cora whines, her high-pitched voice grating against my already frayed nerves, and I growl. The vibration begins deep in my chest, traveling up my throat like thunder.
Before anyone can stop it, my dragoness’s presence fills the room. A wave of heat emanates from my body, distorting the air around me. She’s angry and defensive, and it basically doesn’t feel safe for anyone outside of my nest. I’m shaking in Leander’s arms, his muscles taut against me as he holds me still, trying to contain me. My vision blurs, tinged with red at the edges, and my fingernails lengthen into talons, digging into my palms.
Klauth grabs hold of me and crushes me to his chest, his heartbeat thundering against my ear, and rumbles to my dragoness. The deep vibration travels through both our bodies, soothing the savage beast within. His scent—smoke and brimstone—envelops me. We know he will burn the world to cinders if it means protecting my clutch. Eventually, I calm down and draw in my first deep breath, the taste of ash fading from my tongue. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to him and nuzzle his chest, embarrassed by my reaction. My face burns with shame, hot against the cool fabric of his shirt.
