Page 42 of Guardian of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy #2)
Abraxis
I feel the wind whip against my scales as we soar through the crisp, high-altitude air.
Each powerful beat of my wings sends a shudder rippling through my body, and for a moment, I’m hypnotized by the sound—like distant thunder rolling in my ears.
A harsh tang of mountain frost stings my nostrils, mixing with the faint sulfuric scent of my dragon’s breath.
Even as we fly, my thoughts linger on my sister and her possible egg, and a sour taste coats the back of my throat. Part of me wants to tear the bastard apart for daring to touch her, while another part understands. It’s just in our blood, the unrelenting drive to mate and breed as drakes.
Beside me, Mina’s dragoness glides in near silence, her frill pinned against her neck.
The smooth, greenish silver shimmer of her scales flashes in the bright sunlight.
My dragon rumbles a greeting to her, and she tilts her head, her golden eyes catching mine for a beat.
She explains how her frill creates too much drag if she lets it fan out—so she keeps it close.
A practical detail that somehow makes me warm inside.
The air even smells sweeter around her. Or maybe that’s just my senses sharpening because she’s near.
A few ridges along my spine serve as seats for Balor, Leander, and Ziggy, and I can feel the weight of them shifting behind me whenever I bank or adjust my altitude.
Callan is perched behind the ridge between Mina’s horns, the egg carrier strapped securely to his chest. Vaughn stands near one of Mina’s massive horns, leaning forward to watch the world roll by beneath us.
I still remember Leander’s answer when I asked why he wanted to ride with me.
He said he just wanted to hang with his friends for a bit.
It’s funny—Mina once called us the Riders of the Apocalypse, and she’s not far off.
We’ve been through more battles than most males our age, each of us with our own specialty.
Together, we can level an entire battlefield if we have to.
Mina unleashes a raw, primal roar that bounces off the mountainous cliffs, and my chest swells with pride.
Before, she’d let me be the one to announce our arrival.
Hearing the answering call from my mom—slightly higher pitched, but just as mighty—sends a furious rush of excitement through me.
My mother and Mina have grown close, almost like mother and daughter.
It warms me more than I’ll admit seeing how Mina gravitates to my parents after a lifetime of neglect from her own family.
My father practically melts around her. He admires her fierce protectiveness of me and Cora.
Soon, the stone walls of my father’s compound loom beneath us, tall and imposing against the rugged landscape.
The powerful flaps of Mina’s wings stir the air so forcefully that I catch the swirl of dust and dried leaves spinning down below.
She circles once above the courtyard, but she won’t land first—never has.
My scales rattle with satisfaction as I begin my descent, claws scraping against the gravel.
Balor, Leander, and Ziggy cling to me, their grips tightening as I drop lower .
I land with a heavy thud. Stone crunches underfoot, and the scent of heated earth and mortar hits me.
Almost immediately, Mina’s bulk shadows me as she touches down, creating a gust of wind that whips the dust in spirals.
Her dragoness emits a warm puff of breath along my flank, then rubs her face along my neck, the rasp of scales sending shivers down my spine.
She slips her maw beneath my jaw in a soft gesture of surrender.
A low rumble of contentment escapes me as I press down gently on her head and she lowers it, allowing me to rest mine on top of hers.
Even though she could decimate this entire compound if she wanted to, she’s choosing trust and submission here, with my family watching.
And in this moment, I feel a fierce protectiveness for her—and a surge of pride that she is mine.
I flex my fingers as we finish shifting back to our human forms, the rush of power still tingling along my limbs.
The courtyard is cool and smells faintly of damp stone, a crisp edge in the night air that heightens my senses.
Mina immediately takes the egg carrier from Callan and straps it in place under her chest. The scraping sound of the straps echoes off of the stone walls.
“Mom…” she breathes, voice trembling with relief as she rushes into my mother’s arms. Their quiet sobs and the soft brush of fabric catch my ear, and I feel a knot in my stomach tighten.
“How was the flight, son?” My father steps forward. His handshake is firm and warm, but there’s tension in the set of his shoulders.
“It was good. Nice and smooth—no bad weather between here and the school.” I glance around the courtyard, noticing how the torches sputter in the breeze.
Shadows dance across the ground, stretching in odd shapes that put me on edge.
Then I turn my gaze on my father, silently asking a question I know he can answer .
“She’s in the neutral area,” he says, voice low. “She’s having issues passing her first egg.” The lines near his eyes deepen with worry. “We warned them not to try so young, but you know how young love is.”
I nod, feeling the cool night air raising goose bumps on my arms. I look at Mina and my mother.
I see the moment Mom whispers about Cora.
Mina’s face darkens, her eyes shifting into a predatory gleam.
A growl coils in my chest at the sight of her sudden rage, and I shake my head slowly to rein her in.
“Take me to her.” Mina’s voice is dangerously calm. She strides away, my mother guiding her toward the birthing waters. Her footsteps click against the courtyard’s stone floor, echoing ominously.
I start to follow, but my father’s hand clamps around my arm. “Females only in the birthing waters,” he reminds me. “It’s tradition.”
We trail after them into an alcove where the walls are rough-hewn stone, lit by flickering lanterns that throw dancing patterns across the floor.
A warm, mineral smell tells me there’s a hot spring or pool beyond the closed door.
Warrick sits on a nearby bench, his head in his hands, shoulders quaking with barely contained fear.
The salty tang of his sweat mingles with the musty air.
“How is she?” I ask, my voice echoing off the stone.
“We should have listened.” His tone is thick with guilt. “The egg is big—she’s having trouble passing it.” He fixes a tortured stare on the door, as if he can will it open.
My father and I exchange glances but remain silent. My sister’s fate hangs in the balance, and frustration churns in my gut. “Where are Mina and my mom?” I finally demand.
Warrick’s face turns a shade paler. “Your mate is terrifying. She said she’d gut me on the spot and electrocute me if I so much as blinked wrong.
” He shivers. “She also mentioned being poisoned by a basilisk and terrorized by a nightmare.” He forces a laugh that sounds more like a groan.
“Where’s she even going to find those two creatures? ”
Vox—my father—leans against the wall, crossing his arms. The lantern light catches the cool calculation in his gaze.
“Well, my son Abraxis, here has two such friends. One’s even another mate of his female.
I’m sure either would do anything she asks.
” The calm menace in his voice coils around Warrick like a physical threat.
“We promised no male would lay a finger on you,” Dad adds, pushing away from the wall and rapping softly on the heavy wooden door. “But we never said anything about the females in our family.”
A moment later, Mom opens the door a crack. She speaks in hushed tones to Dad, and I catch a hint of warm, steamy air carrying the scent of herbs and mineral water before she disappears again.
“It seems my daughter-in-law is soothing my daughter enough to help her relax and pass the egg.” Dad’s whole face lights up with relieved pride.
“I am very proud of the mate my son has.” He claps me on the shoulder, the force reverberating through my bones, and then turns to Ziggy.
“Mina said she has a black medicine bag in her room, and that you know where it is. She needs it.”
Ziggy glances at me. I give a single nod, allowing him to enter Mina’s private space. He vanishes in a flicker of magic, leaving a faint crackle in the air that raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
“What was that? What is he?” Warrick blurts, eyes darting between me and my father.
Balor’s answering smile is edged with danger.
“One of the males who will raise hell if Mina asks us to.” Then his lips pull back, revealing the elongated basilisk fangs he inherited from his lineage.
Warrick’s face drains of color at the silent confirmation.
The threat here is very real—and no amount of stone or shadow can hide from it.
I tense as I watch Ziggy reappear outside the door, two black bags clutched tight in his hands.
The corridor feels colder than usual; shadows cling to the walls, rippling under the faint glow of the lanterns.
A damp, earthy smell lingers, reminding me of the school’s catacombs below, and it makes the fine hairs on my arms stand on end.
He raps on the door with a soft, rhythmic pattern I recognize from countless nights spent outside Mina’s room.
My heightened senses pick up on the quick shuffle of feet within, and moments later, Mina opens the door.
A rush of warm air scented with soap and stale incense drifts out, teasing my nostrils.
She smiles at Ziggy, her eyes brightening at the sight of the bags in his hands.