Page 24 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)

Mina

I trail behind the priestess and the scribe down the corridor, the echo of our footsteps hushed by thick sandstone walls.

The air is cool and dry, carrying with it the faint scent of old parchment and dusty stone.

My nostrils flare slightly, inhaling that soothing sandstone smell—it’s comforting in a strange way, yet it does little to quell the tight knot of worry in my stomach.

Maybe verifying the bond wasn’t such a good idea after all.

We enter another room lit by the flickering glow of enchanted sconces, their light dancing across worn, ancient murals. The scribe’s robes rustle softly as he steps forward. I’m uncomfortably aware of how every noise—every breath—seems amplified in this silent, hallowed space.

“The first thing we are going to do is record all the mate bites and locations,” the priestess says, her voice low and resonant as she motions for me to sit on a simple wooden stool. The seat is cold against my thighs, and I suppress a small shiver.

“Gryphons don’t bite, they use their talons,” I say softly, watching the scribe circle around me. I can feel the subtle brush of his robes as he inspects each mark, and the scratch of his quill against parchment sets my nerves on edge. My skin prickles where his gaze lingers.

“Which drake made this bite?” he asks, using the feather end of his quill to gently tap the front of my throat. The soft bristles tickle, but the spot still throbs faintly, reminding me of Abraxis’s sharp teeth and his possessive nature.

“Abraxis,” I answer, tilting my head up to give him a better view. My hair shifts over my shoulders, releasing a whiff of lavender oil from earlier bathing rituals.

“And these repeat bites are his?” He motions to my one shoulder, where the skin feels tender.

“Yes.” I try not to think about how the skin there still tingles whenever Abraxis is near.

“An adolescent black dragon does that when their strength is threatened.” The scribe’s observation sends a chill slithering down my spine. I can practically feel the worry emanating from my dragoness, an unspoken tension coiling low in my gut.

‘What is wrong, mate?’ Klauth’s voice resonates through my mind, a comforting, electric warmth along our bond.

‘I am sure you already know,’ I reply silently, not daring to let my attention wander for too long. My pulse thrums in my ears, and the musty dryness of the chamber seems to thicken around me.

“This bite?” The scribe’s quill grazes the back of my neck gently.

“Leander, the Nightmare,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

‘Abraxis’s multiple bites on your shoulder.’ Klauth’s concern hums through our bond.

‘I did the same to him,’ I admit, recalling the feverish intensity of our last altercation.

‘You reacted to how stressed he was, his insecurity,’ Klauth murmurs, and some of the tension eases within me. I focus again on the priestess as she steps closer.

She studies me intently. “Who were you speaking to?” she asks, her penetrating gaze making my pulse flutter anxiously.

“Klauth felt how stressed I am about being separated from my entire nest in a new place. He was making sure I am alright,” I reply, keeping my tone even. I let a half truth slip, hoping it’s enough to keep her from prying deeper.

“He was a just ruler in his time. Shame what happened to his betrothed,” the priestess continues, her voice echoing softly. There’s a faint tang of incense in the air, a bitter note that sets my teeth on edge.

“It is a shame that the wyvern attacked a female on a nest. It was the act of a coward.” I keep myself composed, though my heart twists at the memory. I feel the weight of the scribe’s eyes on me as he waits to record which mark belongs to which mate.

“Let’s test the strength of the bonds to your mates.” The priestess glances down at her list. “Summon the gryphon to you.” She settles onto a high-backed chair behind an ancient desk, the wood creaking under her weight.

I inhale slowly. The air tastes faintly of ink and old leather.

I focus on Callan’s bond, sending a gentle caress down it, then give it a slight tug.

A ripple of energy runs through my body, and I can sense him moving closer.

Within minutes, Callan enters. He’s at my side in an instant, his arms warm around me.

Relief floods me, and I release the tether, hugging him tightly.

The smell of fresh mountain air clings to him, a sharp contrast to the musty chamber.

He kisses the underside of my jaw, and my skin tingles where his lips brush.

“Summon the basilisk,” the priestess says without looking up from her notes .

I give Callan a tender smile before shifting my focus.

My heart beats faster as I grip Balor’s tether and pull.

A thrilling spark flares to life in my mind, and I sense him heading straight for me.

Within moments, Balor leans in the doorway, his presence commanding.

His gaze sweeps the room, then he steps forward, the soft scrape of boots on stone announcing his approach.

He kisses the underside of my jaw, leaving behind a hint of something metallic—like the scent of minerals in a deep cave—and hugs me firmly.

“The gargoyle.” The priestess tilts her head, a calculating glint in her eyes. She’s hunting for a weakness in our bonds, I can feel it.

I breathe in, letting the gritty stone smell of the room fill my lungs as I focus on Vaughn.

A gentle caress, then a tug. The tether thrums with life.

Seconds later, Vaughn practically sprints into the hall, nearly skidding past the door before regaining his composure.

A soft laugh slips out of me, the tension easing for a heartbeat.

His arms wrap around me in a crushing hug, and he presses a chaste kiss under my jaw, his body cool and solid like carved marble.

“The displacer beast,” she calls out next, arching an eyebrow.

A grin stretches across my face as I tug on Ziggy’s bond.

The moment I do, he appears in front of me in a blur of shadows and feline grace, the space around him rippling with displaced air.

He nuzzles against my jaw and peppers me with light kisses, his enthusiasm lighting up the stale room like a burst of fireworks. My giggle echoes off of the walls.

“The Nightmare.” She frowns at the text on her parchment, then at me.

Ziggy steps away, joining my other mates.

I sink deeper into my mind, reaching for Leander’s bond.

It resonates with a dark, velvety warmth that sends gooseflesh prickling over my skin.

I tug gently and feel him draw near. Moments later, he appears, his heavy footfalls echoing in the corridor before he steps inside.

There’s a faint smell of smoke about him, like distant embers.

I open my arms, inviting him close, and when he kisses under my jaw, I let my eyes flutter shut in relief.

The priestess actually chuckles, her gray eyes gleaming as she observes us, then returns to scribbling notes. “Summon the black dragon.”

My stomach twists into a knot. My heartbeat quickens, and I swallow hard before reaching for Abraxis.

Our bond feels taut, like a thread on the verge of snapping, but I stroke it carefully, then tug.

Tension swirls in my gut, matching the dryness of my mouth.

When Abraxis walks in, every gaze fixes on him.

I hear the rasp of his scales in my mind as he draws close, and my dragoness inside me shifts uneasily.

Pressing the bridge of my nose under his chin in a sign of submission, I catch the faint sulfuric tang of his breath—like a warm updraft from a deep cavern. His dragon rumbles softly, and he hugs me, kissing my forehead. The bond between us thrums with both caution and promise.

The priestess finishes scribbling and looks at me again. “Summon Klauth.”

I carefully ease away from Abraxis. The dusty air of the chamber crackles with anticipation as I concentrate on Klauth.

The moment I tug his tether, lightning seems to spark under my skin, skittering up my spine.

Within moments, Klauth appears at the doorway, a kingly aura surrounding him.

When he steps closer, I throw my head back, exposing his mate mark.

My eyes drift shut, and I clasp my hands behind my back.

The brush of his lips against the mark sends a shiver down my body, and his arm curls around me in a protective embrace.

“My precious treasure,” Klauth rumbles softly, his voice radiating warmth.

“You submit to no one unless you want to.” He gently caresses my face, guiding my gaze to meet his.

For a moment, the cool chamber, the priestess, and the scribe seem to fade.

All I sense is the electric hum of our bond, the reverberation in the very air around us, and a promise that I’m not alone in this place.

I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and let my forehead rest against his broad chest. The faint scent of incense tickles my nose, mingling with the slightly metallic tang lingering on his shirt—a stark reminder of the tension in the air.

We stand in a dim, vaulted chamber, the echo of our breathing somehow louder than the crackling torches lining the walls.

Across the room, the elder priestess shuffles through a stack of yellowed papers, her gnarled fingers tracing each line of text with meticulous care.

“From what I can see, the bonds are firmly in place,” she says, setting the pages aside.

Her keen gaze shifts to Abraxis. “You show signs of stress, of feeling unsure about your place in this bond.”

At her gesture, I step forward. She gently brushes my hair from my shoulder, exposing Abraxis’s fresh marks.

The sudden touch sends a jolt along my spine, the delicate scales at my nape prickling in response.

She tuts softly. “This is what a threatened male does to prove he’s in control—or, as the young ones say, ‘I was here first.’”

I glance from Abraxis to Klauth, my heart thudding in my chest. Abraxis began biting more often once I received Klauth’s egg, long before Klauth was physically in the picture. My bottom lip stings under the pressure of my teeth, but I keep quiet, waiting for the priestess to continue.

“We have verified all the bonds. We have also started the process of restoring the lands and title that belong by right to King Ragnar—especially now that he has a viable mate to carry on his bloodline.” Her gaze locks on me, and the scales along my spine rise in instinctive defense.

A chill seeps into my bones; I still have three known enemies out there, and this is no time to be carrying or laying eggs .

“Thank you.” Klauth’s voice rumbles softly as he steps beside me, his arm draping over my shoulders.

“We’ll need you to return so we can complete everything,” the priestess says, consulting a scroll with faded ornate lettering. “We plan to announce your sovereignty over what was once known as the Marzana Empire during the winter formal. The coronation for you and your queen will happen then.”

My throat tightens. How in the world did I go from being an assassin in training and the unwanted daughter … to now a queen of a long-forgotten empire? My pulse thrums in my ears, and internally, I’m screaming. If I didn’t have a massive target on my back before, I certainly do now.

Klauth presses his lips gently to my temple, and a soft purr of reassurance vibrates through him. “We’ll talk as a nest when we get home,” he murmurs. “Certain things are already in motion. We can’t stop them now.”

He turns and nods at Ziggy, who steps forward with his easy, lopsided grin. “Come on, Mina,” Ziggy says, looping his arm through mine. The movement makes me aware of every taut muscle in my body, as if bracing for a fight. “Let’s go home.”

In the space of a single heartbeat, we leave the hush of the priestess’s hall behind. The breath of cool air that hits my face feels like a promise of momentary peace. Hopefully, once we’re all together in the suite, we can make sense of this madness—and the new crown looming over my head.