Page 45 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)

Leander

This constant shuttling between Risedale and school is exhausting.

Every time we return to Malivore, Mina finds something wrong in the nest. I feel that familiar knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach as we step back into the first nest we ever shared.

Balor is on Mina-duty again today, escorting her to every class.

I can’t help but seethe with jealousy, knowing he gets to be by her side all day, every day.

It’s Tuesday, and I know I’ll see Mina in third period for my class.

I trudge through crowded corridors filled with the chatter of first-years and the clueless banter of second-years.

The stale scent of sweat and old textbooks mingles in the air, and my frustration flares—so much so that I almost want to set the world on fire.

When third period finally begins, I watch as Mina and Balor slip into the back of the classroom.

Mina’s chair creaks as she leans back against the cold, hard wall, her presence commanding despite the dim fluorescent light.

Her hand rests protectively over the egg carrier that has Thauglor’s egg in it.

I step to the front of the room and announce, “Welcome to the second half of the year of Defense Tactics,” my voice echoing slightly against the tile floor.

The faint smell of chalk dust fills the air as I scan the room, noting the mix of eager and indifferent faces.

Mina’s gaze meets mine, intense and curious, as I stride across the classroom.

I pick up a piece of chalk and draw a mock battlefield on the board, every scratch against the slate punctuating the silence.

“Who wants to pick a side?” I ask, my eyes scanning the rows.

A male student at the front hesitates before stepping up.

He taps the right side of my drawing, and I ask him, “Do you want offense or defense?” He mumbles, “Offense.” I then query, “Who wants defense?” My eyes drift over the class, and I catch a sly smirk on Mina’s face as not a single hand rises.

With a confident grace, she stands and strides to the board.

I pass out cards to Mina and Brennen. I watch as Mina’s smirk deepens the moment she glances at her card.

She places it deliberately on the desk, then takes the chalk and begins redrawing the board.

Every movement is precise, as she erases all traces of my initial work and replaces them with her own calculated defense strategy.

Brennen pauses, his eyes following her every fluid motion.

He shakes his head, clearly impressed or perhaps exasperated, then turns back to his own side to adjust his lineup accordingly.

“Time’s up,” I call out, my tone firm as I refuse to glance back at them. They both settle into their seats, and I direct the class’s attention to the coded markings along the edge of the board. “Anyone want to tell me who wins according to how it’s set up?”

A heavy silence falls over the room as I scan their faces.

Finding no volunteers, I furrow my brow and start drawing decisive lines, methodically crossing out units.

When I step back, Mina’s defense still stands.

I face the class again and announce, “I need someone to double-check me.” Two nervous students approach the board, their footsteps soft against the worn linoleum, and they inspect my work meticulously .

Satisfied with their validation, I turn back to the class. “Can anyone tell me why Mina’s defense held?” The room stirs, and after a moment of hesitant glances, another male student rises and approaches the board.

He explains, “Brennen tried overpowering the defense. He didn’t account for the tank-like formation of the black dragons on the front line.

The blues in the secondary line could volley their attacks over the black dragons, while the black dragons maintained an acid cloud that halted both land and air assaults.

” Zac finishes his explanation and returns to his seat with a self-assured nod.

I add, “Sometimes the best offense is a well-set defense. Know the strength of your troops and move them accordingly. Sometimes the old ways aren’t always the best.” I erase the board, the chalk dust billowing briefly in the cool air, and catch Mina’s gaze as she’s absorbed in a page of her book.

“Moving on,” I continue, “we’ll be hitting the simulators on Thursday.

So study up on the species guide and the guide to the flora and fauna of the Aurelian Isles.

” I draw a large circle on the board, dividing it into three distinct sections with swift, clean strokes.

“Next class, you will find a bucket with numbers in it at the door. Take one as you walk in. When we move to the simulation room, these numbers will correspond to the circle to assign you to a station. The color will indicate offense or defense.”

I notice Mina tilting her head slightly as she processes the instructions, her eyes narrowing in thoughtful challenge.

I already know that later we’ll be discussing who she wants on her team.

After graduation, if she decides to serve as she originally planned, she’ll need a team.

As the top student in her class, she has the right to pick her base team.

The bell rings, its shrill tone mingling with the murmur of departing students, and I watch as the class files out. Mina slowly packs her books, and several classmates drift over to talk to her. She lingers by the board, animatedly explaining her changes and the reasoning behind them.

While she’s distracted, I slip away to join Balor. We lean our shoulders against the cool, rough wall at the back of the room, our eyes following Mina’s animated interactions. I lower my voice and ask, “Going home or heading to your next class?”

“My class for a bit then home,” he replies quietly, his gaze never leaving Mina as she uses a pointer stick to further illustrate her choices.

I lean in, barely loud enough for him to hear over the low hum of the emptying classroom, “Why does she seem off tonight?”

Balor’s response is measured, his tone laden with concern: “Cora laid an egg as her dragoness this time.” The simple statement carries the weight of unspoken worries. I know Mina’s attention shifts subtly toward her friend—someone her own age who is finally nurturing the family she desires.

I sigh heavily, running my fingers through my hair. “It’s not safe … We all want that full nest, the little ones scampering around everywhere.” The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Balor continues softly, “Mina wants to go see the eggs. She’s curious to see how much bigger they are than the one she helped Cora deliver.” His eyes drop to his feet, avoiding mine as if the truth is too heavy to face.

I rest a hand on his shoulder, my voice tentative. “You think she’s going to push for eggs next cycle?”

He meets my gaze, his expression hardening as he speaks, “I think she’s going to use her nest as bait to lure her father out.

She’s clever enough to know he won’t surface until he believes she’s defenseless.

I know she craves eggs, and I know she’ll manipulate her own nest to lure him out.

And I know she’ll destroy him utterly if he dares come near her children.

” His words are cold, and a chill runs down my spine at the intensity of his conviction.

I whisper, almost to myself, “A dragoness is at her most dangerous when she’s protecting her nest…” and steals another glance at Mina.

Balor nods slowly, his voice low, “Exactly. According to Klauth, a dragoness changes when she’s about to lay eggs—their scales harden, their talons sharpen, and their temperament turns volatile.” He shivers, glancing at me before shifting his gaze back to Mina.

“What about their breath weapon?” Even now, the mere thought of it sends a shiver through me—Mina’s breath weapon is the most dangerous I’ve ever seen.

Balor adds, “A hundred times worse … Klauth said that Mina’s is much stronger than it ought to be for a dragoness her age.” At that, he freezes mid-sentence, then offers a tentative smile over my shoulder.

Mina slides between us so that her back brushes lightly against my chest. She asks playfully, “What did I miss?”

Balor stammers, “Um…” before I interject quickly, “We were talking about dragon breath weapons.” I try to mask the full depth of our conversation.

Mina turns to look at me, her eyes knowing all too well that I can’t hide the truth. “And?”

I confess in a low voice, “Eggs—and how dangerous a dragoness becomes when she’s defending her nest.” Mina nods slowly and sighs, the weight of unspoken worries lingering between us.

“I’m going to visit Cora after class,” she announces, her voice steady despite the underlying tension.

“She and Warwick dug a small nest at the base of the mountain within the compound. It’s just big enough to shelter Cora completely, and Warwick is going to be forced to shift and settle outside it to shield her from the elements.

” Shaking her head as if in resignation, she gathers her things and leaves the classroom.

Without missing a beat, Balor turns and runs after her, clearly troubled by something more.

I stand there in the fading light of the classroom, the echoes of our conversation mingling with the scent of chalk and distant footsteps, wondering how much more dangerous our world can get when the stakes are as personal as a nest.

Mina waits for me at the end of the day, her silhouette outlined by the fading light, and leads us out to the flight field. The cool evening air carries the scent of damp earth and distant wood smoke as Balor approaches from Malivore, his arms burdened with well-worn leather bags.

When we reach the field, Mina smoothly hands off Thauglor’s carrier before beginning her shift.

Gone are the days when her transformation seemed slow and unnatural; now it’s fluid and swift.

I watch, mesmerized, as she rises gracefully, every muscle rippling beneath her skin, then lies down and stretches out, inviting us to climb onto her back.

Her scales shimmer in hues of emerald and silver, now edged with a jagged armor that catches the last glints of sunlight.

I gesture to Balor, urging him to take a closer look. We agree, her scales have changed.

We settle ourselves by leaning our backs against her frill, feeling the subtle vibration of her power under our hands.

“All set, Mina!” I shout at the top of my lungs, my voice echoing across the open space.

Slowly, she rocks to her feet, unfurling enormous wings that beat against the cool air and propel us farther away from the academy with each powerful stroke .

Up ahead, the colossal red form of Klauth dominates the sky—a blazing silhouette against the twilight.

Mina roars, a deep, resonant sound that vibrates through the air and shakes her very form.

Balor and I cover our ears instinctively, startled by the force of her call.

Klauth answers with a thunderous roar, then slows to a smooth glide.

When Mina catches up, she emits a series of low rumbles before wobbling in mid-air and finally landing on his massive, scaly back.

With a graceful roll of her shoulders, she signals that it’s time for us to dismount.

I cling to one of the tall spines along Klauth’s back as I watch her shift back.

“Klauth is going to check the borders before we head home. I’m going to take a seat on his head, so settle in and enjoy the ride,” Mina announces, her voice carrying both authority and excitement.

She flashes a warm, enigmatic smile and plants soft kisses on both of us before ascending along Klauth’s broad back toward his head.

Balor whistles low, his tone a hushed murmur of awe as he surveys the ancient creature. “He’s well over a hundred and thirty feet long. I see why Mina hopped on his offer for a ride,” he says, clearly impressed as he traces the sinuous ridges of Klauth’s back with his gaze.

“It’s terrifying how massive dragons can become,” I remark, my eyes sliding from his formidable back down to the undulating tail that follows.

Before I can process my thoughts further, Mina races down Klauth’s back and grabs Balor by the shoulders. “Shift and coil around several spines and protect Leander,” she commands, her eyes burning with a fierce, dragonic intensity as she shoves Balor toward the center of Klauth’s back.

“What’s happening?” I ask, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and awe as the glow in Mina’s eyes intensifies like molten gold .

“Wyvern … I’ve already called for Abraxis and Vox to bring any males without nests to defend,” she replies.

In that moment, she leans in and kisses me—a kiss that nearly steals my breath.

Her hand lingers on Thauglor’s egg, its cool surface contrasting with the heat of her touch.

She leans forward again to kiss the side of Balor’s basilisk face.

I step into the protective coils, clutching the egg carrier tightly to my chest. Its worn leather is a tangible reminder of the precious cargo within.

I watch in awe as our mate dashes off Klauth’s back and leaps into free fall, shifting seamlessly in the air.

The atmosphere changes instantly; the sharp tang of ozone mingles with the acrid scent of brimstone wafting from Klauth’s breath.

Overhead, the sky ignites in a brilliant flash as Mina exhales a bolt of lightning shrouded in a mysterious, hazy aura.

“Are you seeing that?” I shout, craning my neck to witness the spectacle.

I glance to Balor’s basilisk, which coils tighter around me protectively, its sinuous body a living shield.

Its serpent-like head nods in silent affirmation as we watch Mina strike down attackers one after another with relentless ferocity.

I feel the burning anger radiating through our bond—a fierce, almost tangible heat that promises it will be a long time before she finds calm again.

Her inner dragon is unleashed in full force as she protects the egg I hold so dearly.

Questions churn in my mind. Why are wyverns so close to our border?

Are they testing us? What is their motive?

And the one question that haunts me—could her father be behind this attack?