Page 25 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)

Mina

The days blur together, and tonight is the night of our nest meeting.

Part of me dreads it, even though I know it’s necessary.

These last few days, I’ve been meeting with Cerce to discuss everything that’s happened.

Abraxis has never felt that he was enough—even when he was my only drake.

Now that I have multiple mates only heightens his anxiety.

The others can give me more of their time and attention, while his duties to the King in the north constantly pull him away.

That should change once Klauth is crowned at the winter formal in a month.

I already know my first question for tonight’s meeting.

I walk home with Balor after his last-period poisons class, and the silence between us feels heavy, like a humid fog that clings to my skin.

The distant clang of closing gates and the low buzz of evening conversation around the Arcanum campus drift in and out of my awareness.

A cool breeze carries the tang of burnt herbs—probably from the lab—and prickles across my arms.

“You seem to be in deep thought,” Balor says gently, bumping my shoulder with his. His voice is a low rumble, warm enough to cut through the evening chill.

“That’s the understatement of my existence.” I sigh, wrapping my arm around his before sliding my hand down to lace our fingers together. His warmth grounds me for a moment, and I give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Balor stops us beneath a drooping willow tree.

The branches trail against the ground like silent sentinels, shielding us from the bustle of campus.

He tilts my chin up. “Talk to me, Mina. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.

” When he kisses me softly, the faint taste of mint on his lips mingles with the crisp air.

Then he rests his forehead against mine, as if trying to absorb all of my stress.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.” I close my eyes, letting out another shaky breath as I focus on the rhythmic sound of Balor’s breathing.

“Vox has been trying to reason with Abraxis. Abraxis doesn’t feel Klauth should be head drake of the nest—he wants that role for himself.

But a head or dominant drake is supposed to put the good of the nest, or flight, before his own desires.

” My words come out in a rush, and I pull away to hug myself, feeling a chill that has nothing to do with the weather.

Balor’s arm encircles me again, drawing me back in. “What do you want, Mina?” He cups my cheek and makes me meet his gaze. “What do you feel is best for the nest?” His lips brush the tip of my nose in a tender gesture, and he offers a small, encouraging smile.

“Klauth is a great wyrm—his drake is over a hundred and thirty feet long. He can protect the nest and me in ways Abraxis’s dragon can’t.

” My eyes drop to the ground, and a swirl of brittle leaves crackles under my feet.

“Abraxis is nine years older than me, so I feel closer to him in that sense. But that doesn’t mean we’ll be safe from our enemies if he’s the one in charge.

” I nibble on my bottom lip and let out a shaky breath.

“I love them both equally, no matter what Abraxis tries to convince himself. ”

“Have you told him that?” Balor asks, tucking me under his arm. The warmth of his body and the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothe some of my anxiety as we continue walking.

“Many times. He doesn’t want to believe it, and I don’t know why.” My eyes flick ahead, noticing the looming silhouette of Malivore. Its darkened windows and stone arches always give me a strange sense of foreboding. My stomach twists in knots.

“He’s been in love with the idea of you since he was nine,” Balor says, his tone thoughtful. “He’s spent twenty-three—almost twenty-four—years living with the fantasy of his mate. Maybe reality isn’t lining up with the dream he created in his head.”

His words sink in, resonating with my own suspicions. “Yet another male’s expectations I don’t live up to,” I murmur. That old pit of grief yawns wide inside me, and the icy breath of depression wraps itself around my chest. It always comes back at the worst times.

“It’s not like that, Mina…” Balor’s protest is gentle as we enter our suite. The stale, slightly musty smell of the hallway mingles with the faint scent of dust and old furniture.

I just look at him, offering a sad smile before perching myself on the arm of the couch, bracing for whatever torture this nest meeting might bring.

My pulse pounds in my ears. Tonight feels like a crossroads—one where all our hopes, fears, and rivalries collide in a storm.

I’m not sure any of us can fully control.

I stand against the wall, letting the cool stone at my back anchor me, while Leander moves front and center of the room.

The low glow of the overhead lights casts long shadows across the floor, making the space feel both intimate and tense.

I’ve deliberately placed myself a few steps away from both drakes, making sure neither feels I’m favoring the other.

My pulse thrums in my ears, and the faint scent of candle wax and old parchment lingers in the air—remnants of tonight’s studying and earlier gatherings.

“I’ve been doing a lot of reading on managing a large nest,” Leander begins, his gaze drifting over everyone.

His voice carries a certain measured calm, but I sense an undercurrent of nerves.

“It’s suggested we have check-ins regularly.

So that’s what this is. Mina, I’ve had the guys all put anonymous concerns on slips of paper. ”

He lifts what looks like a plain pillowcase, its corners darkened by shadows. The shifting of paper within makes a faint crinkling sound that seems unnaturally loud. “I’m going to shake it up, then have you draw out the questions. If you want to read them aloud, that’s fine. If not, I can do it.”

I nod, a silent agreement, feeling a subtle flutter in my stomach. There’s a sense of dread gnawing at the edges of my thoughts—I’m not entirely sure what issues might come up.

“Okay, here we go.”

Leander shakes the pillowcase, and the soft rustle of paper feels more like a death knell than simple questions.

I swallow hard as he opens the bag and extends it toward me.

My fingertips brush against the rough cloth, and I close my eyes, plunging my hand in to grab a single folded piece.

The edges of the paper are crisp against my skin as I pull it free and open it.

I clear my throat. “What do we do if it’s not our night and we need Mina?” I read aloud, my voice echoing slightly off the stone walls.

Leander manages a smile and answers first. “Go to the person whose night it is and ask if, before bedtime, they can share their allotted time—just for a little bit. But sharing time isn’t meant to be abused by one person.”

He looks at me, brow furrowed, silently asking if I want to add anything. I give a slight shake of my head. The tension in the room lifts a fraction.

“For example…” Ziggy jumps to his feet, his movement sending a ripple through the charged air. “If Callan or Abraxis get called to the front again.”

I cringe at the thought, my heart thudding as I recall the last time they left for some urgent summons.

Ziggy notices my discomfort and mouths “sorry” before continuing.

“They can ask to switch or share the time they have left with whoever has that night, so they can be close to Mina before they leave.”

Chewing my bottom lip, I speak up. “Why don’t we just do an emergency switch if that happens again?

Whatever time they have left can remain theirs, without sharing.

The person who loses that slot will take either Callan’s or Abraxis’s night—whichever comes first.” I drop my gaze to my hands, tracing the faint scars there.

Leander’s voice cuts through the hush. “Is that a solution everyone can agree on?”

A chorus of assent fills the room, though it’s subdued. “Okay, passed,” he says, relief softening his tone. “Next concern.” He brings the pillowcase back to me, and I feel a twist in my gut as he holds it open.

This time, the paper I pull out seems thinner, almost delicate. My hands tremble as I unfold it. “It’s still not safe enough for Mina to lay eggs. What are we going to do for her next cycle?” I read, my voice hitching. I can’t help the tiny flinch that follows.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” Callan says, moving to stand near Leander. His steps are quiet, but I still catch the faint scrape of his boots on the stone floor. “We wear protection and cycle in and out of Mina’s space. As long as she’s … occupied, she shouldn’t shift and become dangerous. ”

His words spark a tense chuckle from me. “If two drakes and a basilisk can’t contain me, the world is in deep shit.” My attempt at levity is shaky; I’m trying not to add to Abraxis’s worries by mentioning his name or Klauth’s in that context.

Leander rattles the pillowcase once more, the noise somehow sharper this time, and holds it out. My heart thumps painfully against my ribs as I draw the next slip. I sense everyone watching me, the air thick with anticipation. Unfolding the paper, I pause. My throat feels suddenly tight.

“If you could do it all over again, what would you change?” I read, my voice cracking. A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. My breath hitches as I turn away. “This isn’t fair. The things I would change … they weren’t my choice.”

Silence floods the room. I lower my head, letting the tears fall in hot tracks down my cheeks. My chest aches, and I want nothing more than to disappear. Then Abraxis’s voice, soft as a breath of wind, breaks through.

“Mate?” he murmurs, contrition clear in every syllable. “Please look at me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that question.”

I force my gaze to meet his, blinking through tears.

“I wouldn’t have waited so long to complete the bond with you.

I was scared I wasn’t enough.” My eyes flick over his shoulder to Balor.

“If I had known, I wouldn’t have let you linger in the shadows for so long. You’re probably my most selfless mate.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, I turn to Callan. “I know what it’s like to feel you’re not enough. I grew up with that feeling every day of my life. I still feel it when my mate is so stressed he bites me continuously … then I do it because I’m stressed that he’s stressed.”

Ziggy hands me a tissue, and I blow my nose, trying to compose myself.

“I wouldn’t change who’s in my life, just how they got here.

” I meet Abraxis’s gaze again, searching his face.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re the lead drake or the second one.

You were my first mate, and no one can take that from you. ”

I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to his forehead, then shift my attention to Klauth. My eyes narrow with intent as I stare at him. “Once you’re king again, you’ll take over command of the continent’s armies, right?”

He holds my gaze, the tension between us electric. “Yes. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Klauth steps closer, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Abraxis stiffen, as if he already understands my plan.

I straighten, my spine tingling. “I know what I want instead of my father’s head on a pike as my mating present.”

“And what’s that, mate?” Klauth’s half-smirk suggests he already knows.

“Mated drakes are no longer forced to serve until their females lay a clutch. Once they have a mate, service becomes optional.” The command in my tone surprises even me, but it’s something I refuse to budge on.

“I never agreed with that rule anyway,” Klauth replies, giving a small shrug. “Yes, it will be changed once I’m crowned. Though I’ll need to amend it so the bond has to be verified by the Temple of Bahamut for legitimacy.” He glances between me and Abraxis, then nods.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I shift my focus to Leander, whose shoulders look a bit more relaxed now.

“I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night,” he says, setting the pillowcase aside. “Let’s pick a movie and hang out for the rest of the night as a nest.”

The idea is a relief. I can almost taste the tension in the air, as sharp as the ozone before a storm.

But the questions in that bag can wait until tomorrow.

As I stand, Ziggy offers me Thauglor’s egg, and I cradle it against my chest. Its warmth seeps into me, comforting in a way that nothing else can right now.

I smile softly. At least I have one drake in my life who isn’t openly jealous of the others—or if he is, he hasn’t said so yet.

The room shifts around us, each mate moving closer, and for a moment, the swirl of uncertainties and fears fades beneath the steady hum of our bond. I hold the egg tighter, silently promising myself—and them—that no matter what questions come next, we’ll face them together.