Page 20 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)

Vaughn

How much have I missed?

I have no idea what day it is or what time it might be when I awaken every evening.

My room—dim, draped in thick black curtains—feels perpetually caught between late twilight and dawn.

The air is stale from being shut in all day, smelling faintly of my musk and the leather of my old jacket tossed across the chair.

Despite the hush, there’s a low hum of distant chatter from the corridors, reminding me the academy never truly sleeps.

Mina has been keeping me up to date with all of my classes.

She’s made it a point to gather all of my assignments for me.

Then, in front of either Callan or Abraxis, I do my homework.

They seal the envelopes and hand them in the next day to assure Mina doesn’t do my work for me.

It’s equal parts embarrassing and reassuring—at least I’m not falling behind.

One of the guys goes with me to Shadowcarve or meets me there to do the hands-on work in the evening, so I don’t fall behind.

The chill night air always wraps around me as soon as I leave the Malivore Conservatory, a sharp reminder that while most students are winding down, I’m just starting my day.

I feel like such a burden to the nest, it’s not even funny.

They moved my night with Mina to Saturday, so classwork doesn’t cut into my time with her.

“Hey Vaughn.” Her voice, warm and lilting, greets me as she comes through the front door after her training. She smells like the night breeze and faint sweat—tangible proof of her hard work.

I close the distance and hug her tightly before kissing her.

My senses flood with the sweet scent of her skin and the warmth of her body against mine.

The soft rumble of her dragoness warms my soul.

There is so much love in her heart, and I’m honestly shocked considering how she was raised. “What class did you have tonight?”

“Archery and weapons.” She smiles and motions to Klauth as he comes through the door behind her. A slight gust of cool air follows him in. “Someone’s a little rusty.” Mina winks before heading to her room to grab clothes.

“You try being cursed and trapped in a dreamless sleep for a thousand years and see what happens.” Klauth’s voice is low and gravelly, carrying a faint undertone of centuries spent in silence.

He shakes his head and looks at me, extending his hand.

I can smell a hint of dust and old parchment on him, like he’s been rummaging through the academy’s long-forgotten corners. “Are you well?” he asks.

I grasp his hand. “I feel much better knowing you’re able to be with Mina all day, keeping her safe,” I say, smiling as relief settles over me. Even though I can’t be by her side constantly, at least someone I trust is.

“Now, if we can get the youngling to be as sensible, it would be helpful.” Klauth grumbles a little before heading toward the kitchen counter, his footsteps echoing on the polished floor.

“Don’t be late for your training.” Mina’s voice drifts from the bathroom door. She brushes past me, the faint smell of her soap trailing in the air as she presses a quick kiss to my cheek .

“I’ll see you later,” I call over my shoulder before leaving the suite.

The corridor is dimly lit by old wall sconces, casting flickering shadows that make everything look slightly ominous.

I walk until I am out of the building and into the open night.

The sky is clear, spattered with stars, and the moon hangs low like a curious eye.

The fresh air, tinged with the scent of damp grass, fills my lungs as I shift to my gargoyle form.

My skin hardens, my senses sharpen, and with a powerful leap, I’m airborne.

Flying to Shadowcarve is always a rush—wind whipping past my stone-like wings, the academy grounds below me silent and sprawling.

I spot the large courtyard, lit by torches lining the perimeter.

When I land, my claws scraping the stone with a metallic screech, I find Abraxis and Balor training with dual-wielding swords.

The ring is a circle of packed dirt, ringed by tall stands.

The air here smells of sweat, iron, and the faint tang of tension.

I duck into the locker room, the overhead fluorescent lights flickering with a dull hum.

I can almost taste the stale odor of well-worn leather and disinfectant.

I slip into my own leathers, the material snug and smelling faintly of me—an odd blend of stone dust and night air.

Stepping back out to the ring, the chill of the evening air pinches my exposed skin, and adrenaline tingles in my fingertips.

“I’m ready when you are.” I stand by the weapons rack, waiting to be told what we’re working with today. My eyes flick over the array of blades, noting how the torchlight gleams off their sharp edges.

“Grab a matched set of short swords. Mina kicked my ass today with them and made me look bad in front of Klauth.” Abraxis’s voice is rough, and he rubs at a bruise forming along his forearm. His eyes flick with simmering annoyance.

“Mina beat you? How is that even possible?” I ask, looking between Abraxis and Balor. The crunch of gravel underfoot reminds me to keep my stance loose, ready for anything .

“As a dragoness takes mates, she becomes stronger. The strength of the mate directly affects her strength.” Balor’s voice is steady, and he crosses his arms over his chest. I almost drop my swords, my grip momentarily going slack.

“So that means…” I turn, gaze drifting toward the distant outline of the Malivore Conservatory, where Mina should be settling in for her shower.

“Yes, she has the strength of a great wyrm and all our shifts.” Balor answers as Abraxis grumbles under his breath. A faint breeze stirs the torch flames, throwing flickering shadows across Abraxis’s scowling features.

“Remind me not to piss her off.” I take a fighting stance, both swords held at the ready, the worn leather hilt fitting perfectly against my palms. My heart beats faster at the thought of Mina’s growing power.

“Are you aware Mina wants her first clutch of eggs?” Abraxis asks, lunging forward with both swords. The clang of steel against steel echoes in the night air. I block and parry before his words register.

“How? Why?” I strike back, sending one sword high and the other slicing low. The friction of metal jars my arms, and I grit my teeth against the impact.

“She took out her implant apparently after her bonding with Klauth. Females of stronger lines can control when they reproduce. She doesn’t want to hurt us when it’s time to sedate her.

” Balor answers, his voice measured, as Abraxis rains down blows.

The sound is thunderous, each strike sharper and angrier than the last.

“If I remember right, she overpowered everyone until Balor made her pass out.” I throw Abraxis off his game by mentioning that.

It’s his greatest perceived failure to date, and a flicker of irritation crosses his face.

He presses his lips into a hard line, stepping back just enough to glare at me through the dim torchlight .

I steady my breathing, my focus split between Abraxis’s next strike and the tumult of emotions roiling within me.

Mina’s getting stronger. She wants a clutch of eggs, and I’m barely keeping up in class and in training.

Yet somehow, despite all the chaos, I feel more alive than I have in a long time.

Training went about as well as expected.

My muscles still tingle from exertion, and the faint tang of sweat lingers on my skin.

Abraxis seems uneasy—like the raw scent of discomfort that hangs around him, sharp and acrid.

He’s feeling inadequate compared to Klauth.

I can understand that feeling. It’s how I feel most of the time when I look at his’s imposing form.

When we get back to the apartment, the air is warm, smelling faintly of buttered popcorn and the distinctive musk of our nest. The low hum of a movie’s soundtrack filters through the small living room.

The glow from the TV bathes Mina in the flickering light as she snuggles in Klauth’s arms, her feet perched in Leander’s lap.

Callan sits on the floor between Klauth’s feet, and Mina idly runs her fingers through his hair.

Ziggy is perched on the arm of the chair, popping kernels of popcorn into Mina’s mouth.

The atmosphere is surprisingly peaceful, despite the tension I sense humming beneath the surface.

“We’re back,” I announce. My voice feels a little scratchy, the dryness of my throat a reminder of the dust and heat from training. Mina looks over Klauth’s shoulder and smiles, warmth radiating from her in waves.

“The movie just started. Get cleaned up and join us,” she says, wrapping her arms around Klauth’s neck. There’s something about the way she looks at us, over the back of the couch, that momentarily steals the tension from my muscles.

“Maybe I’ll skip it,” Abraxis mutters, his voice tinged with a low resonance of bitterness. He heads into his room, the slight slam of his door betraying his frustration.

The joy on Mina’s face falters, and she sighs before turning back to watch the movie.

Shaking my head, I follow Abraxis and knock on his door.

There’s a slight echo in the narrow hallway, and I can hear the muffled drone of the movie through the walls.

After several moments, he answers the door in just a towel, steam from a recent shower swirling around him, carrying the faint scent of soap and something spicy—his usual body wash.

“What?” he growls. I notice his shoulders are tense, and the water droplets running down his arms catch the overhead light, making him look even more on edge.

“Before you drive a wedge, you cannot repair in yours and Mina’s relationship, you better get out there and talk to her,” I say, tilting my head. I catch the faint flicker of pain in his eyes.