Page 11 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy #2)

Mina

Addy and Garrett were pulled out of school three days ago, just like that.

No warning, no explanation. I can’t shake the unease lingering in the pit of my stomach, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

Not now. Right now, I’m standing outside Royal Protocol , a class so pointless it almost physically pains me to go inside.

Dancing and mingling—it’s the year two course.

Bahamut, save me. I don’t want to endure this.

With a reluctant sigh, I push open the door, the cursed eggs strapped tightly to my chest like a shield. I hope the sight of them is enough to keep everyone at arm’s length.

“Today, we work on our waltz,” Finlay announces cheerfully, his voice grating against my already frayed nerves. I cringe. Of course, it’s a waltz.

Callan is busy teaching a class, and Vaughn is holed up in math.

That leaves only one option. With a sigh, I send a caress down the bond to Abraxis—a gentle coaxing tug to let him know I need him, but it’s not urgent.

I don’t have to wait long before his answering caress brushes back, warm and steady, letting me know he’s on his way.

“Ms. Havock?” Finlay’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and I realize he’s looking at me expectantly. So are several of the males in the class, their gazes lingering a little too long.

“My mate is on his way,” I say coolly, tilting my head back and exposing Abraxis’s claiming mark that dominates the front of my throat.

It’s a bold statement, one I make with deliberate intent.

Finlay bows his head, wisely averting his gaze.

He knows better than to challenge a mated dragoness.

The others follow suit, their interest dwindling under the weight of my silent warning.

Moments later, the doors swing open, and my smile breaks free the instant I see him.

Abraxis strides in wearing his fighting leathers, his wings flexing and unfurling in a deliberate show of dominance.

The air in the room shifts as he crosses the distance to me, his presence swallowing the space.

Without hesitation, he sweeps me into his arms, his grip firm yet possessive.

“You needed me, mate,” he purrs, his voice low and edged with that dangerous rasp I know so well. His scent carries the faint tang of sweat and battle, and I can feel the energy radiating off of him. He was sparring before this, and he’s still charged from it.

“We’re supposed to waltz,” I say, my voice softening as I nuzzle beneath his jaw. “I didn’t think it would be proper to let another male hold me like you do.” I feel his possessive streak flare, sharp, and consuming, and I soothe it with my touch.

“Mine,” he growls, the word vibrating through me.

His hand tilts my head back. His teeth finding my mate mark as he bites down—not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to remind everyone in the room exactly who I belong to.

The act sends a shiver down my spine, equal parts thrill, and reassurance.

He doesn’t immediately release me as we move.

His grip is firm but leading, and I let him guide me effortlessly into the steps of the waltz.

His presence drowns out the rest of the room.

When he releases me, I rest my head against his chest and let the steady beat of his heart anchor me.

The music swells, but all I feel is him—his strength, his devotion, his possessiveness wrapping around me like armor.

“There’s something I need to tell you…” Abraxis whispers against my ear, his voice low and careful, like he’s afraid the words might shatter me. A chill runs down my spine, tension crawling into my shoulders.

“Does it have to do with Addy and Garrett being pulled from classes?” I whisper back, close to his ear, and feel him nod. Of course, it does. I pull back just enough to meet his gaze. His amber eyes flicker like twin flames, the war between truth and restraint blazing in them.

“The Risedale nest was razed to the ground. No structures remain standing,” he murmurs. The breath I didn’t realize I was holding escapes in a slow, controlled exhale.

My mind drifts to my gardens—the one part of the nest I’d ever cared about.

The thought of them buried beneath the wreckage stings, but only faintly.

“Do we know who did it?” I ask, steering us toward the open double doors that lead to the balcony.

We move as if dancing, the motion smooth despite the weight of his words.

“No clue.” Abraxis tilts his head, studying me with a curious glint. “You’re a lot calmer than I expected.”

“It’s not my home. You and my other mates—that’s home.

Besides,” I glance toward the horizon where the Risedale nest once stood, “I’ll dig my own nest when I’m ready.

” My voice is steady, though my thoughts churn.

“My father wouldn’t have done it. That nest was his mother’s before he forced my mom to take it over.

Too much sentimental value for him to let it burn. ”

I bite my bottom lip and start pacing the patio, each step sharpening my focus. “Is the rubble turned to glass, or just weakened and destroyed?” I glance over my shoulder at Abraxis, waiting for his answer. What he says will tell me more than anything else.

“Rubble. No glass, as far as I know.” He arches a brow, his curiosity deepening. “What did you just figure out?”

“It wasn’t dragon fire. Concentrated dragon fire would have turned some of the ruins to glass.

” My voice is calm, calculated, though the implications send a ripple through my chest. Before I can say more, Ziggy appears, Callan and Vaughn in tow.

He vanishes again, only to return moments later with Leander and Balor.

I turn to the group, my gaze hard and resolute. “We need to look at what’s left of the nest.” There’s no anger in my voice, no sadness—just the weight of determination. The destruction of the place I was born means nothing to me. What matters is who did this and why .

The sun dips below the horizon, casting the flight field in hues of gold and shadow as we gather near Malivore.

I can feel the pull deep in my chest, a faint but insistent yearning to return to the nest where I was born.

It’s like a thread tugging at my soul, reminding me of a place I left behind but can never truly forget.

“What are we waiting for?” Leander’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I turn to him .

“Nothing,” I say, a small smirk tugging at my lips. “At this time of day, my belly scales blend into the sky. I’ll be carrying the entire nest—including Abraxis.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but I raise a hand to silence him. “If whoever destroyed the nest is waiting for me, they’ll strike if I’m alone .” I make air quotes around the word, my tone dry but laced with sharp intent.

I don’t wait for him to argue. Instead, I step toward Callan, pulling the leather egg carrier I crafted earlier from my shoulder.

I’d skipped painting in art class to make it, and now, the effort feels worth it.

Carefully, I secure it to his chest, the straps snug but not tight.

My hands linger on his shoulders as I meet his gaze.

“I need you to watch over Klauth and Thauglor,” I say, my voice soft but commanding. “Keep their eggs safe like you would keep me safe.” I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, the weight of the moment heavy between us.

Then I turn to Ziggy, my eyes narrowing. “If we’re under fire, you get Callan and Leander out of there. The rest of us can take whatever comes because of our armor.” My words leave no room for argument. Before any of them can protest, I stride away, my mind already shifting to the task ahead.

Beneath my calm exterior, my dragoness seethes. She’s furious—no, livid—that someone dared destroy the Risedale nest. She’s even angrier that it wasn’t her breath weapon that reduced it to ash. But fury won’t solve this. We need answers first.

Was it Ambush Drakes? Fire Drakes? Both can breathe fire intense enough to obliterate a structure. Or is there something else at play here? An unknown force entering the fray? The thought twists uneasily in my mind .

And then there’s Arista. If anyone would strike at a place she thought I held dear, it’s her. I wouldn’t put it past her or her nest to use this to unsettle me. But if that’s the case, they’ve underestimated me. They’ll learn soon enough—I’m not one to crumble under their games.

With my dragoness seething beneath my skin, it might not be the smartest move to sideline Abraxis.

His presence is grounding, and with what’s ahead, I’ll need it.

My shift is seamless, the transformation into my dragoness as effortless as breathing.

Scales ripple over my skin, emerald, and silver gleaming in the fading light.

My wings unfurl, stretching wide as we flex, testing the strength in our sinew and bone.

We stretch our back, muscles rolling beneath the hard planes of our body, then lower ourselves to the ground to let the others climb aboard.

I flatten the frill along my spine—emerald with shimmering silver edges—providing a secure grip for them to hold.

The setting sun glances off my scales, the silver catching fire and making the emerald glow deeper, more vivid.

Abraxis strides up my back, steady and sure, his weight barely registering until he moves to the ridge just behind my spiraling horns.

He settles there, the base of my frill serving as a makeshift backrest.

“This is risky, mate,” he says, his voice steady despite the tension in his posture. “Let me fly with you.”

I give a subtle shake of my head, the motion slow but firm. No.

A deep rumble escapes my chest, carrying my plan in tones only his dragon could interpret.

We’re heading to the Risedale nest to investigate.

If the attackers are land-bound and incapable of flight, we’ll know who’s responsible.

If they can fly, it’s an entirely new threat, and we’ll adapt to face it .

Abraxis grunts in response, his talons gently preening the scales along my neck. “While I agree with your plan, I’d still rather fly at your side.”

“Who are you talking to?” Vaughn’s voice cuts in as he settles behind Abraxis, his tone edged with curiosity.

Abraxis stills, his body tensing at Vaughn’s intrusion. I rumble again, a low vibration meant to calm him. Vaughn doesn’t understand the language of dragons, after all.

“You’re right,” Abraxis finally says, his voice softening. “Mina was telling me her plan. I’m still fighting her on being sidelined.”

“You got all that from what sounded like rolling thunder?” Vaughn asks, incredulous.

“Yeah,” Abraxis says, his grip tightening slightly. “You’d better hold on. She’s ready to take off.”

And he’s right. I rise, powerful legs pushing me upright before I launch into the air. My wings beat hard against the wind, carrying us higher and higher until we break through the clouds. A few more flaps, and I find a thermal, letting it carry us as I glide toward the Risedale nest.

The landscape blurs below, and unease coils in my gut. I don’t know what I’ll find when we arrive, but I know one thing—part of my past has been obliterated. Whether I’ll thank whoever did it or tear them apart limb by limb remains to be seen.

As we crest the mountain range before the valley where the nest lies, I catch sight of smoke curling above the treetops, trapped in the basin below.

My instincts scream at me to roar, to announce my arrival, to reclaim what was taken.

But deep in my gut, another voice, quieter but undeniable, urges caution. Stay silent. Approach from downwind .

A low rumble builds in my chest, directed at Abraxis.

Send Callan and the others away. My message is clear.

Send them to his father’s lands, to his residence there.

Something is still here, something burning the earth where my home once stood.

The air tastes of ash and ruin, a mockery of the life that thrived here.

Abraxis moves without hesitation, his boots scraping against my scales as he climbs down my neck toward the others. The bond between us hums with purpose, and I feel it the moment Ziggy takes Callan and Leander with him. All my flammable mates—my eggs—are far from this place now.

Good.

I bank hard, my wings cutting through the dense air, and flare my frill wide.

The sharp edges bristle, each spine alive with crackling energy, lightning arcing between them, begging to be released.

The power surges through me, pooling in my throat as I focus on the nest below.

Whatever desecrated my family’s old home won’t stand for long.