Page 18 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)
Mina
I wake up still snuggled next to a very naked Callan, my cheek resting against the warmth of his chest. The soft rise and fall of his breathing lulls me for a moment, and his skin smells faintly of musk and last night’s sandalwood soap.
He holds me so tightly it’s as if he expects me to vanish at a moment’s notice.
The shrill ring of the alarm shatters the quiet, and I groan as I reach over to shut it off.
“Come on, sleepyhead, I have a class this morning.” My voice is still husky with sleep, and I nibble lightly along his jaw before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His stubble tickles my chin, and the pleasant scrape sends a little shiver of anticipation through me.
“Keep doing that and you’re going to miss first period,” Callan mumbles, voice rough. He pulls me tighter against him, his arm a band of heat around my waist.
“You know Kai isn’t a fan. I really need to get to class.” I give him one more playful nip. The faint tang of his skin lingers on my tongue as he reluctantly releases me .
When I roll out of bed, my feet sink into the thick rug, and the chill of the morning air coasts over my bare thighs. Callan stands on the other side, pulling on a fresh shirt. I slip my uniform dress over my head, feeling the crisp fabric slide along my skin.
“Who’s walking you to class today?” he asks, buttoning his pants.
“I’m going to take Klauth with me. Ziggy is available until the end of second period, but I’d rather use him as an escape option,” I say softly, snapping the dark green Shadowcarve ribbon around my waist. The faint rustle of the ribbon reminds me of a coiled serpent, making me feel both dangerous and protected.
“Are you considering his offer?” Callan steps close, the warmth of his body radiating across my shoulder.
I lower my eyes to my backpack and the empty egg carrier peeking from it.
“I am. But it’s something I feel I need to discuss with Abraxis alone.
” The thought weighs heavily on my heart.
Part of me doesn’t want to abandon the surname I chose.
The other, Klauth’s name—savage and ancient—holds more weight and could afford the nest more respect.
“Makes sense, Mina. I mean, you could take one of your other mates’ names. Willamina Whitlocke sounds rather esteemed.” He smiles at me, and I can almost taste his amusement on the air.
“Hmm … If I wish to sound like an aristocrat, I will consider your surname first.” I lean in, pressing a playful kiss to his lips, before padding out into the main sitting room. My bare feet make a light tapping noise on the polished floor.
A rich, roasted scent of coffee greets me as I pass the kitchen island, where the guys gather with steaming mugs in hand.
There’s a subtle undercurrent of tension in the air.
Maybe I’m imagining it, or maybe it’s just the usual buzz of morning energy in a place like this.
I cross the room and step outside onto the balcony .
A cool gust of wind lifts my hair as I enter my miniature poison garden.
The thick, earthy fragrance of damp soil mingles with the heady perfume of belladonna blooms. My breath catches at the sight of those glossy black berries hidden beneath the dusky leaves.
They look like little glistening drops of night.
I crouch beneath the low-hanging branches of the bush, retrieving Thauglor’s egg with careful hands.
“Good morning, Thauglor.” The shell is smooth and unexpectedly warm against my palms. I press my lips to it and smile when I feel a faint pulse—like a tiny heartbeat under my fingers.
“I imagined what you looked like when you spoke to us a hundred times,” Klauth says, leaning on the doorframe. Behind him, the shadowed interior of our living quarters stands in stark contrast to the sunlight here. “My imagination pales compared to what you really do.”
“I loved you from the moment I felt you respond to me.” I gently run my fingertips over the egg’s shifting patterns. A soft hum vibrates my palm, and I chuckle. “He’s happy he’s the center of attention now.”
The belladonna leaves brush against my dress as I move past them to check the rest of my poison garden. A bitter, almost metallic tang lingers in the air—the promise of toxic power in each leaf, petal, and root. The watering can in my hand gurgles softly as I give a few plants a light drink.
“You realize most of the things in here can kill you, right?” Klauth says, motioning for me to step out. His gaze flicks from me to the menacing plants.
“They can kill you, not me. I apparently have the immunity of both my parents’ species of dragons.” I kiss Klauth’s lips as I pass. The warmth of him is a stark contrast to the cool morning air, and the faint hint of coffee on his breath makes me smile .
Back inside, the warmth is instant and comforting. My nose picks up the scents of toast and lingering bacon grease from breakfast. Abraxis stands at the counter with a printout of my classes in hand, eyebrows raised.
“Mina, did you change your schedule?” he asks.
My stomach knots. “Yes. I felt with how I want to live my life, some classes are needed more than others.” Reaching into my backpack, I pull out several folded sheets of paper, smoothing their edges on the counter.
“Tactically, I want to rebuild what’s left of my father’s home at the base of the mountain. ”
“But you hate that place,” Balor says, handing me a mug of coffee. The steam rises in delicate curls, and the first sip is a welcome burst of bitterness on my tongue.
“I do, and I will never live there. But we need a place to hold functions and house others that wish to join my flight. Like Cora and her dipshit mate.” Ziggy unfolds my rough drawings on the table.
Pencil marks outline the broken walls and potential expansions.
“They need a place to live, and it’s not with me in my home. ”
“Cora and her mate will never be able to defend themselves. At least in my territory, they can feel safe. Selfishly, I’ll have my nephew close.” I lift my chin, challenging anyone to argue.
“Do you think she’ll accept?” Abraxis arches a brow.
I slide a piece of correspondence between me and his sister across the table.
“She and Warwick accept, and his family offers to help with construction.” Finishing my coffee, I savor the last bitter dregs.
“Warwick’s people are already on site, starting renovations in the lower living spaces.
It’s the tithe I require for them to be under our protection. ”
Setting my mug down, I catch the faint aroma of spiced coffee rising from its contents—earthy and a little bitter, though it does nothing to soothe me.
My fingers tremble with pent-up energy as I stare at my hand, watching my nails lengthen into razor-edged talons.
The dim light in the kitchen casts flickering shadows on the worn wooden table, and a low, involuntary growl rumbles from deep in my chest, reverberating through my ribs.
“They wish to discuss a betrothal.” The words taste foul on my tongue.
My lips peel back in a silent snarl, and I’m acutely aware of how the skin around my mouth stretches taut.
“I told them they can petition for the hand of one of my children when they are old enough to make their own decisions.” My gaze locks with Klauth’s.
His eyes flick with silent acknowledgment, and he gives me a terse nod of approval.
The slight shift in his stance and the faint heat radiating from him help quell the prickling tension beneath my skin.
“But that’s not how it’s done,” Abraxis says as he steps closer, gently enclosing my taloned hands in his. His touch is warm and firm, the calluses on his palms rasping against my skin.
“That’s how it will be done,” I snarl, voice rough, “or they will deal with my rage.” A spike of pressure ripples across my cheeks and brow, and I feel the bone plates shift in my face. My snarl intensifies. “I will not risk binding one of my daughters with a male who is unworthy.”
The protest in my throat rises again until I feel Klauth’s mouth clamp down on his mate mark on my neck. His growl resonates against my skin, sending a shiver across my shoulders. The faint coppery tang of blood fills my nostrils as my scales brush against his teeth—his way of grounding me.
‘Settle, mate. I agree with you. The youngling will have to deal with your decisions, or you simply don’t let him have a hatchling.
’ Klauth’s presence in my mind soothes me like a gentle hum.
I exhale slowly, letting the tension slip from my muscles.
I retract my talons and force the growl to fade.
The moment he feels me tilt my head in submission, he finally releases his grip.
I can still feel the warmth of his breath against my neck.
“You and Mina were lucky you were mates,” Leander says, stepping forward with a steaming veggie omelet that smells of peppers and fresh herbs.
There’s a wistful undertone to his voice.
“I can’t imagine allowing my daughter to enter a contract with a male she doesn’t love.
” He offers me the plate, and my stomach rumbles in response—my appetite returning now that my anger has slightly cooled.
“You were ready to hide your sister from Attor,” Balor reminds Abraxis, his voice low as he moves between the two of us like a living barrier. “You wanted her to have the same experience you did—finding your mate.”
Abraxis sighs, dipping his head. “Traditions are hard to break when it’s all you’ve known.” His words are almost lost beneath the distant clatter of dishes and hushed whispers in the corridor beyond.
Klauth shifts behind me and places a reassuring hand on Abraxis’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “Change only happens when you fight for it. Otherwise, history is doomed to repeat itself.”