Page 47 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)

Abraxis

Third quarter begins, and the academy—though well-kept and in immaculate condition—feels like a tomb. The corridors are silent, their pristine stone surfaces echoing the absence of sound, as if the very walls are holding their breath.

Mina is on edge most days—her restless energy sends the weaker dragons scurrying like frightened prey.

We suspect Lysander is plotting against her; he’s been scheming to have her removed because of her sudden change in station.

I still remember how his last threat nearly set her off—she almost shot him with lightning, the air crackling with raw, barely contained fury.

In fifth period, I find solace in weapons and archery class alongside Vaughn.

He stands by the ancient, heavy wooden gates of Ranathor Keep, his eyes fixed on them as he waits for the doors to swing open—and for Mina to appear.

“She’ll be here,” I murmur, my voice low, as the other students select their assigned weapons while the soft clink of metal and the subtle scent of oiled wood fill the room.

“She’s never late,” Vaughn remarks, his tone a blend of admiration and exasperation as he struggles with the longbow he’s determined to master. I glance at the clock high in the tower; his observation is right—Mina is almost fifteen minutes late.

Leander descends from the observation room, his eyes scanning the space before arching a brow at me. I shake my head. “That’s not normal.”

Just as I’m about to call for my familiar, the heavy wooden gates groan open and Mina strides through, flanked by Balor and Callan.

Both look disheveled—as if a storm had whipped through them—yet even in their unkempt state, there’s an air of purpose.

Mina adjusts the egg carrier strapped under her chest, then retrieves the bow I left for her, her fingers steady despite the tension simmering beneath the surface.

I lean toward Balor and Callan, whispering, “What happened to you two?”

“Mina happened,” Balor replies, exhaling slowly, his breath thick with lingering frustration. “She was still pissed off from earlier.”

Callan scoffs, shoving Balor lightly. “This idiot said, I can’t tell if you want to fuck or fight…” His tone drips with incredulity.

“Oh … I guess we know which option she chose,” Balor retorts, and my gaze drifts over to Mina, who is striking targets at the farthest range with cool precision. The rhythmic twang of her bowstring punctuates the silence.

“In the middle of my class, no less. Next thing I know, she’s dragging Balor out the door,” Callan continues, running a hand down his face, as if trying to erase the memory of chaos.

“I go to my office, thinking they’ve left—and find this asshole with Mina bent over my desk, my papers, and books scattered like leaves in a storm.

My office looked like a hurricane had hit. ”

I let out a quiet laugh as I watch Mina in action. “Oh, act innocent, Callan. Who sat Mina on the arm of the couch and fucked her there? Hmm? It wasn’t me…” Balor teases, and I glance at Callan in shock.

I shift my attention between them and then back to our mate—Mina—who remains absorbed in her target practice. “Did she get into a fight? Lose her temper? Cross Lysander’s path?” I fire off questions, my voice edged with concern.

“Honestly, not sure,” Balor replies, his eyes tracking Mina’s every movement.

I turn to Callan. “What do you know, Callan?”

“Klauth reached out to her during class. A flight of green dragons was seen heading toward your parents’ den,” he explains, raising his hands as if holding the weight of his words.

“Klauth sent Warwick to alert them, and Mina wasn’t happy he wouldn’t let Ziggy bring her to them.

” Callan’s gaze drops, and I nod slowly, absorbing his tone.

“Did she say why?” I ask, watching as Callan pales, his eye drifting away.

“I said, I am no different than I was yesterday. And unlike your family, I am immune to the acid. Your father’s flight will lose warriors because Klauth is being stubborn.

” Her voice is as cold and resolute as the academy’s silent halls, and now she stomps over to stand in front of me, the fire in her eyes a clear warning.

“Where is Klauth right now?” I ask, choosing my words carefully.

“Risedale—in a meeting,” Mina replies, tilting her head in that slow, disarming way that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on edge.

I quickly text Ziggy to come get us, even though a knot of dread tightens in my stomach—I know I might be making a big mistake. Moments later, Ziggy manifests before us, his presence filling the space with quiet authority as he glances between us .

“Why do I think the big guy is going to be pissed?” Ziggy says, arching a brow before moving to envelop Mina in a firm hug.

“I’ll handle him later,” she declares sharply. “We need to go to Risedale.” Her gaze hardens as she addresses Callan and Balor. “You two finish up here. Ziggy will collect everyone later.” There’s no room for argument in her tone.

Before I can protest, she grabs me, and in a flash, Ziggy phases us to Risedale. I stagger slightly, the sudden shift leaving my stomach in knots. “I still can’t get used to that,” I mutter, half to myself.

“Oh, stop, you big baby,” Mina teases as we move, her voice echoing with both exasperation and affection. “He moved slower because he has you with us this time.” Her words distract me as we approach the meeting room.

We linger just inside the door. Inside, Mina’s posture is perfect—shoulders back, chin high—as she strides toward Klauth.

The room is filled with a heavy, unspoken tension; the quiet murmur of low voices fades as she draws near.

She barely acknowledges the men at the table with him, her focus fixed upward.

I watch her tilt her head back, her eyes locking with his.

Not a single word is exchanged, but the oppressive air around us shifts as if charged by an unseen battle of wills.

One by one, the men at the table retreat hastily as the pressure mounts.

Lightning ripples through Mina’s hair—a shimmering, dangerous aura that seems to defy the silence of the room.

I find a strange relief in not hearing their clash.

Sometimes, the mere intensity of their stares is more terrifying than any outburst. Their faces are impassive masks, with only the erratic flashes in Mina’s hair betraying the fierce internal conflict.

“Fine…” Mina growls, breaking the charged silence. Without another word, she removes the egg carrier and straps it to Ziggy’s chest, her mo vements decisive and full of purpose. Then she leaves the meeting room as abruptly as she entered.

Klauth approaches and rests a firm hand on my shoulder. “Come on, we have to go save your parents.” He winks at me—a fleeting spark of reassurance—before walking past.

I blink several times, still in shock, and then look to Ziggy.

“She actually won,” I whisper, awe and disbelief mingling in my voice.

I shrug off the lingering tension and dash after Mina and Klauth, my footsteps echoing through the silent, tomb-like halls of the academy as I follow into the uncertain night.

Klauth convinces us to ride on his dragon for the quick trip to my parents’ den. The wind bites at my face as we take off, the roar of Klauth’s dragon echoing off distant stone walls. Mina sits perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the horizon like a sentinel.

“Shit,” she mutters, and without warning, she takes a running start and leaps off Klauth’s back. I watch in awe as her dragoness erupts into existence—a magnificent creature of raw power. Lightning ripples over her shimmering scales as she speeds away, faster than I ever thought possible.

A dozen green dragons, including Abaddon, swarm toward my parents’ den.

The air vibrates with their menacing growls and the acrid tang of burning flesh.

Mina roars, unleashing her lightning with precision upon the invaders.

She dives after her father, barely missing him as he narrowly escapes the snapping of her jaws.

I leap off Klauth’s back and shift into flight, determined to help Mina drive off the attackers.

Klauth unleashes torrents of fire, the scorching heat melting the green dragons’ skin into raw bone.

Amid the chaos, I lose sight of Mina for several heart-pounding moments before glimpsing her locked in combat.

Her talons are entwined with those of a green dragon hybrid—though I suspect the other part might be black.

Mina strikes the creature with lightning, but nothing happens.

Her eyes widen in terror as she grapples with this new, formidable foe.

“Shit…” I think, and dive toward them—but I’m blindsided by another dragon that comes out of nowhere.

I tumble midair, my senses reeling as I try to right myself.

After several frantic flaps, I regain control and see Mina still locked in a desperate struggle against the new male attacker.

Klauth, noticing the danger, heads straight for her.

Before he can reach her, Mina’s eyes flare brighter, and she releases a breath weapon that carries a strange, hazy blue-purple tint—a gas mingled with lightning.

The effect is immediate; the male dragon struggles to keep his eyes open.

In that instant, Mina strikes decisively, tearing his throat out.

She opens her talons and drops his lifeless body into the tree line before taking off once more.

I turn and fly in tandem with her as we force the remaining green dragons away from the den. The air is filled with the mingled scents of burnt scales and scorched earth. I scan the skies for Abaddon, but there’s no sign of him.

Mina lands first, followed by me and then Klauth. Even as we come to a stop, her eyes dart continuously over the horizon—flickering between the fierce intensity of a dragon and the vulnerability of a human.