Page 63 of Queen of the Cursed Egg
I take this opportunity to climb down her scales to the ground, each one hot to the touch despite the cool mountain air, edges sharp enough to cut if I’m not careful in my descent. My boots hit the earth with a dull thud, the impact jarring after the smoother experience of flight. Lily moves and climbs up onto her mother’s head to rest between her frill and horn, finding the perfect perch that allows her to survey everything happening below.
“Is there a reason Mina isn’t shifting back?” I move closer to Abraxis as we watch Klauth and Thauglor speak to several gem dragons, their bodies catching and refracting the light in unusual ways, skin seemingly embedded with tiny crystals that shimmer with each movement. My voice is barely above a whisper, the words carried away by the gentle mountain breeze almost as soon as they leave my lips.
“Klauth hasn’t told her to yet. Gem dragons are stringent traditionalists. Look around. All the females are collared,” Abraxis practically whispers to me, his breath warm against my ear, carrying the scent of night air that always clings to him.
Slowly my eyes move around the faces watching us, taking in details I missed in our dramatic arrival. I’ll be damned—every single female wears a collar, bands of precious metals embedded with stones that match their scales, the restraints beautiful but no less symbolic for their aesthetic appeal. The sight sends a chill down my spine despite the warmth of the sun, a visceral rejection of what these adornments represent. Probably seeing Mina shifted and Lily as a hatchling is unknown to them, a breach of protocol that has created the tension I can feel thrumming through the air like an over-tightened string.
I watch Mina keeping her head high with her daughter well out of the reach of the population, her massive body creating a living barrier between Lily and any who might approach. Her nostrils flare with each breath, taking in the foreign scents of this territory, musclescoiled beneath her scales, ready to move at the slightest provocation. Klauth and Thauglor eventually walk towards Mina, their gait measured and deliberate, shoulders back and heads high in a display of dominance that seems to satisfy the watching gem dragons.
Lily glides down and lands on Thauglor’s shoulder, barely fitting, her small claws digging into his clothing for purchase. The contrast between her tiny black form and his imposing stature would be comical if not for the gravity of our situation. Mina shifts back, the transformation accompanied by the sound of bones reforming and scales receding into skin, a process that still fascinates me despite having witnessed it countless times. She bows to Klauth, the movement graceful and practiced, before pressing her nose under his jaw, an acknowledgment of his dominance that I know costs her greatly, given her independent nature. Her scent changes slightly with the display, a note of displeasure evident beneath her usual fragrance of ozone and wildflowers, detectable only to those who know her well.
Klauth places her diadem upon her head, the silver circlet catching the light in dazzling patterns, before motioning for the family to follow. We’re apparently back to the dominant drake protocols again, the rigid formality so at odds with our usual interactions that it feels like we’ve stepped into a historical reenactment rather than our actual lives. I fall into step behind Abraxis, the basilisk within me alert and watchful, sensing the undercurrents of danger that run beneath this seemingly diplomatic visit. The gem dragons part before us, their jewel-toned eyes tracking our every movement, the weight of their collective gaze almost physical in its intensity. Behind their beauty lurks something cold and alien that sets my teeth on edge, a reminder that not all dragons adhere to the more progressive values our nest has embraced.
CHAPTER 43
Mina
Every single thingabout this conclave sets my scales on edge, the foreign energy of this place making my skin prickle beneath my human form. The females are all collared, the metal bands gleaming in the harsh sunlight, some studded with gems that match their dragon colors. All the children are bound by the anointing oil, its cloying scent hanging in the air like a miasma, sweet but with an undertone of something bitter and wrong. Forced betrothals and forced matings are an accepted thing in this area, the evidence written in the downcast eyes of the females, the submissive postures that speak louder than words. The dominant drake chooses who may be mated to whom, and they haven’t had any true mates in generations. The absence of that joy is palpable in the strained silence between pairs.
I cling to Klauth’s side, not because it’s expected of me, though the watching eyes of the gem dragons would believe so. But because I want to tear every single drake apart and melt the collars off the females, my rage is a living thing inside me, hot and demanding like a second heartbeat. The heat radiating from Klauth’s body is the onlywarmth in this place, his familiar scent of brimstone and ancient forests my only anchor.
“You allow your female to shift?” The elder asks Klauth, his voice grating like stone on metal. My hand tenses at Klauth’s lower back, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, feeling the muscles beneath tighten in response.
“Absolutely I do. A powerful female produces powerful progeny,” he says with that kingly tone that no one argues with, each word carrying the weight of millennia, vibrating in the air between us.‘I really want to torch him where he stands,’Klauth says through the bond to me, his mental voice hot with barely contained fury.
I beam up at Klauth and press my nose under his jaw in affection and submission, the gesture both performance and genuine love, his skin warm against my lips, the pulse at his throat strong and steady.‘I’d like to hit him with a dozen small lightning strikes and then rend his flesh from his bones.’my tone is sickeningly sweet in his mind, the contrast between my outward docility and inward rage sharp enough to cut.
‘I think our little mate has taken on some of my more charming qualities,’Thauglor says with a laugh in his tone, his mental presence cool and smooth like water over stones.
‘We only have to play nice a little longer. The mages shouldn’t be that far behind us,’I remind my mates as we follow the elder again, his robes sweeping the dusty ground, leaving faint trails behind him. The path beneath our feet is hard-packed earth, worn smooth by generations of dragons in human form, the occasional gemstone embedded in the dirt catching the light like fallen stars.
Commotion starts on the far side of the compound, the sudden noise shattering the oppressive quiet, and gem dragons shift and taking flight, their transformations accompanied by the crack of bones and the rustle of unfurling wings. The air fills with the sound of beatingwings and panicked cries, the scent of fear sharp and acrid in my nostrils. All the females are left defenseless on the ground with the hatchlings, their faces pale with terror, some clutching their young to their breasts.
Moving quickly, Thauglor gives Lily to Balor and sends him and Abraxis away, their footsteps fading rapidly as they retreat. With Abraxis’s old injury, I know he can’t fly far, but it’s hopefully far enough, the thought of sitting cold and heavy in my stomach. The taste of fear is metallic on my tongue, bitter and familiar.
The only bad thing that comes to mind is that all three of us are wyrm dragons, the power of our beasts a beacon to those who hunt us. I can only hope that my mates being great wyrms means that the mages’ magic won’t work on them, though the uncertainty makes my heart hammer against my ribs like a caged bird. “What do we do?” I step back so that I’m standing between my mates, their bodies forming a living wall of heat and strength around me.
“We’re easier to kill in our human forms,” Thauglor says, glancing over me at Klauth, his sapphire eyes glowing with inner light, reflecting my worry back at me.
“We’re bigger targets when we shift,” Klauth offhandedly mentions as we watch the females running in all different directions, their colorful clothing blurs of motion against the stone buildings, their frightened cries echoing off the walls.
“Someone needs to make up their minds what we’re doing. The mages are heading this way,” Thauglor pulls us back into the shadows and wraps his wings around us, the leathery membranes blocking out the sunlight, creating a private cocoon that smells of smoke and cedar and dragon musk.
‘We need to surround them, shift, then unleash our breath weapons,’he pauses for a moment, the silence heavy with unspoken fears.‘Klauth, you take the main road and fire down the center. Mina and I will flankthem and unleash our weapons.’His sapphire eyes glow for a moment, and I know his drake is at war with him, the beast wanting to protect us while the man plans our attack.
I reach up and caress his cheek, feeling the stubble rasp against my palm, the heat of his skin almost feverish.‘We will be okay,’I say through the bond before pushing at his wings to open, the membranes reluctantly parting to allow in the sunlight once more. Quickly, I kiss both of my mates, tasting their determination and fear mingled with my own, before taking off running to get into position. The ground is uneven beneath my feet, stones digging into my soles through my thin shoes, the impact jarring up my legs with each step.
I can see the mages moving slowly through the streets as if watching for something, their robes swishing softly, staves tapping against the cobblestones with each step. The scent of their magic hangs in the air, oily and wrong, making my stomach turn.
The tallest one holds a clear orb in front of him, the crystal catching the sunlight and refracting it in dazzling patterns across the ground. What looks like three dots appear and point in different directions, glowing with an unnatural blue light within the sphere. “The orb says there’s three, two ancient and a very young probably new wyrm,” he announces, his voice carrying in the unnatural silence that has fallen over the area.
“We’ll take out the old ones first; they’re probably blind and weak,” the shortest mage says as he pushes his glasses up his nose, the lenses flashing in the sunlight, momentarily obscuring his eyes.
‘They have an orb that senses wyrm dragons. They sense you, Klauth,’I reach through our bond, the mental connection thrumming with tension. I get into position and watch everything around us, my senses heightened by adrenaline, every sound amplified, every scent more intense.
‘Let them come,’he says through the bond to me, and I get that chill up my back, like ice water trickling down my spine. Something isn’t right; the certainty sits in my gut like a stone.
Using my talons, I climb the stone face of the cliff, the rough surface scraping against my scales as they emerge. I shift, the transformation sending waves of pain through my body as bones crack and reform, muscles stretch and thicken. As my dragon emerges, I use the iron dragon gift of stone shape, my claws somehow finding purchase on the smooth rock. I climb higher and look around, the wind at this elevation sharp and cold against my scales, carrying the scent of distant fires and fear.
