Page 10 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy #2)

Callan

I sift through the reports from the southern dorm cafeteria, and a knot of unease settles in my chest. Moving into Malivore with my mate and her nest has left me detached from the other houses, and now the ripple effects are clear.

The naga are demanding dragons be banned from the southern campuses, claiming they don’t feel safe.

Most of the student body feels safer with the dragons there—especially after yesterday’s events.

Dragging a hand down my face, I try to clear my mind.

To my left is Mina’s schedule, neatly laid out but somehow adding to my headache.

First period, she’s with Lysander in his office, researching the cursed eggs.

After that, Balor will take her to advanced poison training, a grueling session with only three other students.

By two, she’ll be with me and Vaughn for my Art of War class.

Afterward, it’s a toss-up—either a second session with Balor or Zigmander’s spy craft class, where Vaughn will join her again.

The thought of juggling all this—while dealing with the naga—makes my head pound .

“What’s that look for?” Leander’s voice cuts through my thoughts as he leans into the doorway, his sharp eyes assessing me. Nightmares like him can read a man with just a single word or glance.

“Looking over Mina’s classes and figuring out how to handle the naga issue in the southern dorms,” I reply, arching a brow at him. “Got any bright ideas?”

Leander steps inside and sinks into the chair opposite me, kicking his feet up onto the desk like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “What exactly happened yesterday?”

I exhale deeply, the memory flashing through my mind.

“Mina and Abraxis joined Vaughn and his clan in the cafeteria. The naga have been bullying the gargoyles, and they stepped in to handle it. Now the naga are demanding dragons be banned from the cafeteria, saying they feel threatened. Meanwhile, the rest of the student body wants dragons stationed as guards to protect them from the naga.” I run my hand down my face again, waiting for Leander to weigh in.

He tilts his head, a slow, wolfish grin spreading across his face. “Sounds like you’ve got two problems with one solution, Callan.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, his grin fading into something more serious. “You want the naga to back down? Give them a reason to stop picking fights. If the student body wants dragons as guards, make it happen. Let the naga see what happens when they push too far.”

His suggestion sends a spark of something dangerous flickering through my mind, but I’m not sure if it’s a solution or a disaster waiting to happen .

Sighing, I rake my hands roughly through my hair, the frustration tightening in my chest. “Maybe it can be a rotating assignment for the fourth years,” I mutter, thinking aloud.

Shadowcarve’s population of dragons and dragon kin should make it manageable.

“I’ll email Lysander, see if it’s something he wants to implement. ”

Leander leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in that calculating way of his. “Balor’s been acting strange, don’t you think?” His sharp gaze locks onto me, and I freeze mid-motion, abandoning my half-written note.

“What do you mean?” The clatter of my pen hitting the desk echoes unnaturally loud in the quiet room.

“The way he watches Mina,” Leander says, biting his bottom lip like he’s weighing every word. Then, unexpectedly, he averts his eyes.

The gesture makes me tense, and I lean forward. “He’s a basilisk. Watching is what he does. They’re predators by nature—always observing, analyzing. Almost as obsessively as I do.” My tone is clipped, but suspicion lingers beneath it. “What do you know?”

“It’s not what I know,” Leander murmurs, his voice low and deliberate. “It’s what I suspect. I think he’s in love with her.” The words land like a punch to the gut, leaving the air charged and heavy. “Basilisks latch onto one person— their person . Unrequited love and all that.”

The suggestion stings more than I want to admit. “Do you think Mina feels anything for him?” My hand instinctively reaches for my phone. My screen lights up, revealing the time. Mina should be in his poison class right now.

“She’s puzzled by him,” Leander says, standing abruptly. “I think he’s misreading her curiosity as interest. ”

I barely have time to process his words before he’s moving toward the door. “I’m going to sit in on the class, make sure nothing happens that shouldn’t happen.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving me alone with more questions than answers and a gnawing unease I can’t shake.

My Art of War class has become a melting pot of chaos this year, combining second and third years just to balance out the smaller number of surviving fourth years. The room hums with tension and rivalry, each table a stage for the unfolding war games.

Mina stands off to the side with Vaughn, her focus sharp as they hunch over a mock war table.

They’re set to face off against a pair of cocky third years who clearly think they’ve already won, especially since Vaughn is technically a first year.

Arrogance drips from their posture, and I can feel it from here.

Each table has a scenario loaded into the system. Mina leans in close, whispering to Vaughn as they study their board. Her confidence is unshakable, even in the face of the third year's smug grins.

“How’s group one doing?” I step up to the table, eyes scanning their troop arrangements.

Blane, a brash dragonnel, grins widely. “Excellent, sir. We’re going to crush the second years.” His certainty is almost laughable.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Zarel, his more cautious partner, mutters, his fell drake eyes flickering between Blane and Mina .

Mina presses the button on her side of the table, her smile cool and calculating.

“Let’s set it in motion,” she says, and the program hums to life.

Orders from both teams are entered into the system, the battle ready to simulate based on parameters I designed.

Species, terrain, and conditions—everything balanced for a fair fight.

Well, fair if you ignore the mental edge Mina always seems to wield.

Blane slams his button down like he’s already won. “You can buy me lunch when it’s over, princess.”

Mina’s smile sharpens, and I catch the glint of talons forming at her fingertips. “Remember whose shift can eat who,” she purrs, her tone sweet as honey. But her eyes... they scream run while you can. I blink, momentarily stunned by the predatory edge in my mate’s demeanor.

The table erupts with the sounds of simulated mini-explosions.

We all turn our focus to the unfolding battle.

It’s a massacre—Mina’s side marches forward, demolishing the opposition with ruthless efficiency.

Blane’s grin falters, then vanishes entirely as his troops fall apart under Mina’s strategy.

Vaughn shifts beside her, his gargoyle form rising to its full monstrous height.

A protective wing, leathery and unyielding like stone, wraps around Mina.

Something he sees—or senses—has triggered his instincts.

His gaze sharpens, scanning the room as if expecting an attack from outside the simulation.

RED VICTORY.

The result flashes across the screen. Mina and Vaughn’s side wins eight to two. The only points Mina loses are for sacrificing a small contingent to bait enemy forces—something I didn’t expect from her methodical nature .

“Hm…” she murmurs, peeking out from under Vaughn’s wing as the replay runs.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, noting the flicker of dissatisfaction in her eyes.

“That’s a glitch,” she says, pulling up her list of orders. Sure enough, the system shows a sacrifice she never authorized. She reruns the simulation, correcting the error, and this time her score lights up: Perfect 10/10 .

“That’s better,” she beams, glancing at me with that fierce, triumphant smile I know so well.

Vaughn’s voice rumbles with quiet pride. “That’s my first perfect score in this class.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of Mina’s head, and I feel a flicker of satisfaction watching my mate shine.

I send Vaughn on ahead, knowing I need a moment alone with Mina. As we walk toward her last class of the day, I take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We need to talk.”

She stops, turning to look up at me with those piercing eyes that always seem to see more than I expect. “Let me guess—Balor?” She tilts her head, watching my reaction closely. The flicker of shock must be obvious on my face.

“How did you know?” I ask, taking both of her hands in mine. Her hands are warm, but there’s a hesitance in her grip. I watch the emotions shift across her face, trying to read her .

“Leander asked me about Balor,” she admits, her gaze dropping to our joined hands. “He’s worried about his basilisk becoming obsessed with me.” She sighs, a sound that seems to carry more weight than her words. “Balor wouldn’t be a bad addition to the nest. But he’s not the right addition.”

Her words tug at something in me. The way she says them, like they hurt her more than she wants to admit, stirs an ache in my chest. “Why not?” I pull her into my arms, wishing for the thousandth time that I could shield her with wings like Abraxis or Vaughn can.

Instead, I settle for holding her as close as I can.

Mina hesitates, her voice soft when she speaks.

“Basilisks and dragons … it’s complicated.

We’ve had issues for centuries. Interbreeding doesn’t work.

The offspring end up deformed. That’s how the dragon kin subspecies came to be—the ones that can’t take fully human form.

” She bites her bottom lip, then nuzzles under my jaw, her warmth grounding me.

“We talked. We agreed it’s best to stay just friends. ”

“But it bothers you?” I press, needing to understand where her head is, where her heart lies.

“No.” Her voice wavers, and she pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. “What bothers me is the one my dragoness is most interested in adding…” She hesitates, breaking eye contact. “He’s considered a prey animal to us.”

Her words hang in the air like a storm cloud. She steps out of my arms, her movements quick, deliberate, as she heads toward her next class. I follow her gaze and spot Ziggy standing outside the door to his classroom. His brow arched as he glances between Mina and me.

I pull out my phone and send him a quick text, explaining what had just happened. The faint ding of his phone draws his attention, and I watch as he reads the message. His head snaps up, eyes darting between me and his classroom door before he strides over.

“A prey animal?” Ziggy’s voice is low, his concern unmistakable as he scans the hallway. “Do we have more of a clue than that?”

I shrug, crossing my arms as I glance at his open classroom door. “I’m considered prey compared to her, Abraxis, and Klauth. It could be anyone.”

Ziggy frowns, his gaze narrowing as a fourth-year student steps into the room, beginning a lecture on repelling in his place. “I’ll see what I can find out,” he says, his tone clipped. He turns on his heel and heads back into the classroom, leaving me alone in the corridor.

The southern dorms are a buffet of prey species for a dragon like her.

At least thirty different kinds live in those three buildings, each more vulnerable than the last. My mind churns, running through possibilities.

Did Mina meet this person when she visited Vaughn’s clan?

Or was it in one of the core classes, where all the species are thrown together, separated only by the left or right side of the room?

“Callan!”

I’m ripped from my thoughts as a courier sprints toward me, breathless, clutching a sealed missive. A letter? Seriously? Why wasn’t this just a text—or better yet, an email? Suspicion prickles under my skin as I take it.

The moment I crack the seal and scan the contents, the answer is clear. My breath hitches, the words digging in like claws.

The Risedale nest. Burned to the ground. Razed until nothing remains but rubble and embers .

My fingers tighten around the edges of the paper, threatening to tear it apart.

This isn’t just bad news—it’s a declaration of war.

And Mina... how the hell am I supposed to tell her this?

Her connection to Klauth is strong, but this could send ripples through their bond.

Will she stay calm, or will the weight of it shatter her?

I fold the letter carefully, forcing control over the chaos building inside me. No point in jumping to conclusions until I know more. But one thing is certain—whoever did this just made an enemy out of me. Out of us .