Page 49 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)

Mina

I expose to the others that I have three breath weapons—something I’ve always wanted to keep hidden because I feel like a freak.

In truth, it’s not really three; the only one I can control on my own is lightning.

As I speak, Thauglor’s egg vibrates inside its worn leather carrier.

I sigh, flip the top open, and trace the smooth curve of the egg’s shell with my fingertips.

I can feel his warmth seeping into my skin as I watch the shell pulse like a slow, steady heartbeat.

“You okay, Mina?” Vaughn asks as he steps into my private lab—a sanctuary tucked away in my nest high above Risedale. The space is quiet, filled with the subtle aroma of aged parchment and oiled metal, and it feels as secluded as it is safe.

“Yeah … Just trying to further weaponize my toxin,” I reply, biting my bottom lip as memories of that resistant male dragon flash through my mind. “It was scary. Balor and Callan are examining it to see what happened.”

“Your lightning didn’t hurt it?” Vaughn asks, his eyes widening as if he’s just seen me grow extra heads .

“Yeah … That was probably the only time I said ‘ oh shit ’—aside from when my dad tried to kill me the second time,” I say, my hand absently stroking Thauglor’s shell as if seeking comfort.

“He hums like Klauth did,” Vaughn observes. He shifts until he stands directly behind me, his muscular arms wrapping around me and pulling me close. I feel his steady heartbeat and warmth press against me, a welcome distraction from my racing thoughts.

“Yeah, he knows when I’m stressed. I don’t like that whatever hybrid that male was remained unaffected by my weapon,” I confess, pausing as the weight of the revelation settles on me.

The lab door creaks open and Balor appears, visibly shaken.

“What happened?” I ask, my voice trembling.

I rush over and guide him to the worn couch, the fabric soft under my touch.

Vaughn quickly brings over a glass of cool water, and I urge Balor to drink as I try to steady my own churning thoughts.

Balor’s eyes lock with mine, his bottom lip quivering slightly. “It’s part basilisk.” We stare at each other for several heartbeats, and then reality slams into me like a tidal wave. If Balor and I have a child—the one in the painting—it will be more powerful than the male I killed.

My mouth drops open, and my chest feels as if a heavy weight has settled on it, making each breath a struggle.

I stumble, collapsing onto the nearest chair as I repeat the thought over and over.

That male—the one I killed—was half basilisk.

I try to force the pieces to make sense, but they slip away like mist.

“Why do Balor and Mina look like they are in shock?” I hear Abraxis ask before I even see him. Klauth walks in with him, followed by the rest of my mates.

“The male that Mina ripped the throat out of was half green dragon and half basilisk,” Callan explains, his voice low and heavy with disbelief .

“Shit…” Abraxis echoes, shock written plainly on his face.

Then, a deep, rhythmic purring sounds behind me.

Before I can process it, a tentacle wraps around me and lifts me gently.

Ziggy, who is sprawled on the floor, shifts so that I’m pressed against his soft, black fur.

The instant I feel his warmth, the dam holding back my tears breaks, and they flow freely down my cheeks.

I have just killed a male who could have answered all the questions we have about what could be.

Leander comes over and settles beside me, resting his head on Ziggy next to mine.

He pulls me into his arms, and his soothing voice whispers, “Let it out, baby. Ziggy and I will be here however you need us. No questions asked, no words needed.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead.

A gentle promise of comfort. I nod, running my fingers through Ziggy’s fur, grateful for these two—the feelings guys in the nest—who never push me to speak before I’m ready.

We lie together for what feels like an eternity before I steady my breathing. Slowly, I pull away and notice Klauth deep in conversation with Balor about the discovery. As I draw closer, tears well up again, blurring my vision and weighing my heart with guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Balor—I didn’t know what he was … If I hadn’t killed him…” My voice falters, unfinished. Before I can continue, Balor rises swiftly and presses his lips against mine, silencing my confession with a fierce tenderness.

The unmistakable heat of Klauth’s body behind me sends my pulse into overdrive. Part of me yearns for these two together, their raw dominance igniting a dangerous, liquid heat that pools deep within my core. Balor withdraws just long enough to press a gentle kiss against my forehead.

“If you hadn’t killed him, he would have killed you,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I’d rather have no answers and hold you in our arms than face burying you for trying not to kill him.” His words reverberate as Klauth trails soft kisses along my shoulder.

Lowering my eyes, I nod slowly. “Go with Balor for a while. You both need each other right now,” Klauth instructs before his lips find my neck over his mate mark. “Head to the hot springs and relax—you both deserve it.” He shakes hands with Balor and moves past us toward the door.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown. I’ve barely seen Klauth these past few weeks, except on our rare date nights and fleeting encounters in passing.

Balor gently lifts my hand and presses soft kisses against my knuckles.

“Let’s do what boss man said and go relax in the hot springs,” he says, forcing a smile as he tries to be strong for me.

“I know it’s not easy,” I reply, wrapping my arm around him as we leave my lab and make our way down the quiet hall toward the sanctuary of the hot springs.

“Nothing worth keeping ever is,” he adds, pulling me closer to him. Our footsteps echo softly in the hallway.

We step into the room where the hot springs bubble gently, their warmth a soothing balm against the chill of lingering tension.

I find a safe spot to set Thauglor’s carrier down, then undress to prepare for a swim.

The moment the steaming water embraces me, a deep, restorative breath fills my lungs.

I glance around and spot Balor accepting a cooler from Callan, whose wave carries a hint of reassurance before he leaves. “What’s in the cooler?” I ask, swimming to the edge and waiting.

“Drinks and snacks,” Balor explains with a strained smile as he scratches his forearm, his fingers tracing nervous patterns on his skin. “We’re worried that after all the energy you’ve spent, you need to eat. ”

“Is something wrong?” I ask, watching him rub his hand against his arm again.

He shrugs, his eyes darkening momentarily. “I was going to leave this morning to go into one of the deep tunnels to shed. But…” He pauses, then adds, “I’ll be alright. For now, let me take care of you.”

I watch as Balor strips down and carries a drink and a snack into the soothing water. “You need to eat, Mina,” he insists, holding the offerings out to me. I hesitate for a moment, the steam curling around us like whispered secrets.

“Only if you let me help you peel away your shed,” I reply, biting into the snack stick and studying his reaction carefully.

“Fine, after you eat,” Balor laughs softly, the sound echoing against the stone walls of the cavern.

“Usually I drag Abraxis with me because of his talons, but I’m sure you’ll do a better job than he usually does.

” His laughter mingles with the gentle burble of the hot springs, and I smile as I finish chewing the meat stick.

“I can only imagine,” I tease. “Why don’t you shift and let the hot water loosen up your scales?” I lean back against the edge of the pool, the heat seeping into my skin.

“My skin—” he begins, then nods as he assesses the size of the pool.

“A soak would help.” He shifts into his massive basilisk form.

Now I can see his scales in their dull, lifeless sheen and the whitened caps over his eyes, blocking his vision.

Instead of floating as he did when carrying me, his immense body sinks, leaving only his nostrils above the water’s surface.

This is going to be a challenge. I’m used to the tactile struggle of prying dragon scales off with our talons—this is an entirely new adventure.

I float around the hot springs for what feels like forever, the water warm and thick against my skin, until Balor bumps me gently with his nose.

“Okay,” I murmur, my voice low and playful.

I push myself upright in the water, feeling it lap softly under the curve of my breasts as I wade closer to the carved stone stairs.

I shift my hands, and my silver talons catch the flickering light from the distant fireplace, glinting like shards of broken glass in the dim room.

Balor slithers to the low end of the spring, making room for me on the cool, worn steps.

With deliberate care, I use the tips of my talons to lift the edge of his peeling skin.

Each inch of movement is methodical. I don’t want to miss a single patch as his heat receptors cling stubbornly, unwilling to let go of the cones of old skin.

A soft laugh escapes me as I peel away another layer, the sound mingling with the gentle burble of the spring.

I set the freed cones aside on the edge of the pool.

“I feel like I’m picking your nose,” I tease, chuckling to myself as I free six small cones—not counting the two around his actual nose.

As the skin parts, I approach the first of his eyes.

I retract my talons and slide my hands on either side of the eye, and with a soft pop, the old eye cap detaches.

I lean in, careful and precise, until the next eye yields, repeating the process until the eyes on one side are clear.

“I’m going to start on the other side now,” I say.

Balor turns his head so that the opposite side faces me.

I resume my work, removing the caps with a careful rhythm.

“I guess it’s easier without having to worry about turning me to stone accidentally,” I chuckle.

The thought of Abraxis—trying to do this with his eyes closed—bringing a brief, mischievous smile to my face .

After all six of Balor’s eyes are free, I shift my focus to the skin along his bottom jaw.

Inch by inch, I peel it back, feeling the subtle texture of the aged skin as it gives way past the coarse spikes on his head.

Once I have cleared that section, Balor slithers out of the water and begins rubbing his body along the cool stone wall, the friction easing the remaining layers of skin off.

When every piece of old skin is free from his body, I gather it along with the bits that tore off, piling them neatly beside the pool.

Balor slips back into the hot spring, sinking once again into the comforting heat.

I follow his lead, easing myself back into the water, and recline on the carved stairs to relax.

The gentle warmth, the quiet drip of water against limestone, and the rhythmic sound of my breathing create a small haven of calm amid the chaos in my mind.

Lying on the warm limestone stairs, I close my eyes.

In moments like this, I am profoundly grateful that some of my mates know precisely when not to push me.

Even though I know we need to talk about what we discovered today, deep down, I understand it has hit him as hard as it hit me.

For now, I let the soothing heat and gentle sounds of the springs silence the spinning thoughts in my head.