Page 5 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)

Mina

Gauntlet run number five since I was sent here.

The stale metallic tang in the air already tells me it’s going to be just as horrific as the previous years—maybe worse.

Torches flicker weakly along the wooden walls, and shadows skitter across the floor like frightened insects.

My first step inside the gauntlet reveals a fresh puddle of blood about ten feet ahead, its crimson hue stark against the worn, mossy stone.

The pungent scent of copper clings to the back of my throat.

‘Stay calm, mate.’ Klauth’s voice resonates in my mind, and his bite mark pulses with warmth on my neck.

‘Interesting side effect of your bite,’ I retort silently, pressing my hand against the wall. The rough texture scrapes my skin as I dig my talons into the wood, scaling higher toward the thick wooden beams overhead.

‘They made the mistake of allowing me to be imprisoned for so long. I grew in power as I aged. It’s a boon I wasn’t expecting,’ Klauth explains calmly.

The slight echo of his voice bounces around my skull as I inch along a splintered beam to the next section.

‘When we fully bond, we will be able to see what the other sees and sense exact locations.’ His words end with a low rumble that vibrates through my nerves.

I feel my lips twitch in a humorless smile. ‘ A thousand years of bottled-up urges,’ I think more to myself than to him, dodging a sudden volley of arrows. The sharp hiss of their flight reminds me how narrow this passage is.

‘I wasn’t awake the entire time. So not a thousand … just two years…’ Klauth’s tone trails off, and the realization dawns on me—two years is exactly how long I carried his egg.

Below me, the floor is stained with streaks of blood.

I follow the splatters, picking out which mechanisms must have caused them and avoiding each trigger.

Rolling logs, shifting floors, and overhead nozzles that spray oil across angled platforms leading down to a spike-filled pit—it all reeks of old wood, rancid grease, and decaying gore.

My talons ache from the constant grip they maintain against wet planks and jagged stone.

Mid-second level, I come across a severed foot.

Dark, drying blood crusts its edges. I clench my jaw, tasting bile at the back of my throat.

The foot is followed by a severed lower leg, then a gruesome drag mark leading around a corner.

My stomach twists at the coppery stench lingering in the stagnant air.

Pausing, I leap up, narrowly missing a series of blades swinging from the walls below.

They slice the air with a harsh metallic clang, spraying sparks against the stone.

I keep moving, claws biting into the beam, so I don’t have to set foot on the treacherous floor.

At times like this, I wish I had Abraxis’s wings instead of testing every plank and beam with my weight.

‘You are beautiful just how you are, mate,’ Klauth murmurs in my mind, his voice silky with affection.

I snort softly. ‘ I’m the first female you’ve seen in a thousand years.

There are others more beautiful than me,’ I counter, forcing my attention back to the tasks at hand.

My gear—a mix of battered leather, ace wraps, and a sports bra—always reminds me how little I’ve indulged in anything remotely “girly.” Abraxis tried, but I’ve rarely felt safe enough to care.

‘Why do you bind yourself, mate? Are females not treasured these days?’ Klauth’s question makes me pause, hanging upside down from a rafter. My hood and face mask clinging to my face, carrying the faint scent of sweat and dust.

I grit my teeth, the dark memories returning.

‘ No. Females are bought and traded between families for alliances and political gain. The drake who sired me stole my mother to create the ultimate weapon.’ Anger flares hot in my chest, matching the sting of fresh sweat on my brow.

‘ I am the weapon he intended my betrothed to wield. Once married, females are collared and have no choice.’ My mental snarl reverberates through our bond, and I share jagged flashes of what my life was like before Abraxis.

The sickening taste of fear clings to the back of my tongue as I recall that “ family ” dinner in my father’s nest.

‘He will die at my talons, mate. I promise you this.’ Klauth’s voice is laced with reverence, and I feel the first true strands of love weaving through our bond. It’s as warm as Abraxis’s presence—a steady, unwavering pillar of steel at my back.

I climb toward the third level, and a chill sluices through me.

The atmosphere is different here—stifling and thick, as if something is watching from the shadows.

Instead of climbing the rest of the way, I fish out a small mirrored dagger to peek around the lip of the floor.

Torchlight glints off of dozens of trip wires crisscrossing at ankle, knee, and even ceiling level.

The air is stale but tinged with a faint chemical odor.

I grimace, testing each vantage point until I get a clear view.

‘Hmmm…’ I dangle from the beam, my heart pounding in my chest. ‘This level feels different from the last two. The layout is … too thorough.’

‘What has you puzzled, mate?’ Klauth asks, the same gentle curiosity he showed when he was just an egg reaching me through the bond.

‘Trip wires on the floor, the walls, and up by the rafters. Let’s see what they do,’ I whisper mentally.

Gripping one of Abraxis’s daggers, I fling it downward, slicing through several wires at once.

A series of black spikes hurtle out from hidden slots in the walls and slam into the opposite side, leaving deep gouges.

My pupils narrow as I examine the spike tips. ‘ They’re oozing some kind of orange fluid…’

‘Likely a nerve toxin. Most are orange or yellow-orange, if I recall correctly,’ Klauth informs me. There’s a proud edge to his tone, and I can’t help the soft purr that escapes my lips.

‘I feel like I just pleased my mate. You’re not the only poison master here,’ he adds, amusement lacing his words.

I blow out a breath, refocusing on the mission.

The black spikes appear to fire at hip-level, so I climb higher, letting my hardened scales shift beneath my leather armor.

My chest, abdomen, and throat are well protected, but I make sure my arms and legs gain a defensive layer of scales, just in case.

Tensing my muscles, I spring across the room with as much force as I can muster.

My boots skid against the dusty floor, and I drop into a roll.

The cacophony of spikes firing from all directions slams into the walls, the thunderous echo drumming in my ears like a raging storm.

I come to a stop, lying flat on my back, panting in quick gasps.

The odor of burnt oil and cracked stone is overwhelming.

Dozens of those black spike balls embed themselves in the stone, forming a wicked pattern behind me.

I stare at them for a long, tense moment, listening for any more traps.

By some twisted stroke of luck, none of them struck me.

My muscles quiver from the close call, and I blow out a shaky breath.

I’m still alive. For now.

One more level and I can call it a day. The gritty feel of the cold stone wall at my back reminds me there’s no margin for error.

A stale draft drifts down the staircase, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and rotting fabric—decaying banners, maybe.

Every breath tastes like dust. Tension rises through all of my mates, and I can’t afford to be distracted, so I stop moving entirely, holding my breath until the tightness in the air settles.

Instead, Abraxis is nearly in a rage. I can sense his heated pulse thrumming through our bond—while Klauth is stone cold.

That calm aura of his pressing in around me like a glacier.

Both species of drakes usually have a hot temper, so it’s unexpected that the one most prone to going on a rampage is the calmer of the two.

Just as I climb the last few steps, Klauth yells through the bond, his voice crashing into my head like thunder. ‘ Stop, mate. There are watch spiders on the top floor.’

A static prickle zips down my spine at the panic in Klauth’s tone. It doesn’t match the measured concern I feel from him through the bond, which only sharpens my awareness of the danger above.

‘ If I remember, they were bred to have a paralyzing venom; the effect sets in after one to two minutes. Victims can see and hear but can’t move or speak, and eventually they die.

’ I recite the page in my mind from the guide we received in Callan’s art of war class.

My heart thunders at the memory. It’s one thing to read about them, but another thing entirely to face them.

‘ Correct. There are six of them on that upper floor. Their webs are super sensitive. Can you manifest enough lightning to destroy the webs?’ Klauth asks, his words tinged with caution.

Usually, it’s considered rude to ask about the strength of another dragon’s breath weapon.

You can ask the type, but never the potency.

‘ It’s harder and more exhausting without Iris. But I can do it.’ I inhale the stale, cobweb-laden air as I climb up and stop a foot from the opening, spotting the silken threads shimmering in the dim light. ‘ The webs are by the entrance to the fourth floor. I’m going to burn them.’

‘ Be careful, my treasure.’ That single word— treasure —makes my chest tighten, sending a rush of heat through my veins.

For a dragon to call someone their treasure means they hold them above even their own life.

A tear slides down my cheek before I can stop it, warm and salty on my lips.

Not even Abraxis has called me his treasure yet.

‘ I’m sorry I upset you. I feel conflicting emotions,’ Klauth offers quickly, his concern wrapping around me like a gentle cloak.