Page 54 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)
Mina
I lie here beside Abraxis, his life dangling by a fragile thread, while a damp chill of fear and hope clings to the air.
The scent of antiseptic and herbs mingling with the metallic tang of blood.
My fingertips trace the cool, uneven contours of his skin as I desperately hold on to his body, feeling the faint warmth that still lingers beneath the surface.
“You can’t leave me,” I whisper, my breath warm against his ear.
The words are a desperate plea as I press a soft kiss on his bruised cheek, the skin rough, and tender beneath my lips.
Callan’s voice breaks through the quiet gloom, a beacon of light in the darkness.
“Mina, you need to eat,” he says, ushering in a tray laden with food.
The dishes clattering softly as he sets it down.
The room is filled with the simmering aroma of bone broth.
The scent curls through the air like a comforting embrace.
I scan the tray until my eyes catch a bowl perched on the side, the liquid within a rich, golden hue.
“Did you bring the bone broth?” I ask, my voice wavering, the words sticking in my throat.
“Yes, and the dropper like you asked,” he replies, carefully setting the tray on the scarred bedside table, the wood worn and smooth beneath his hands.
With gentle urgency, Callan helps me reposition Abraxis, whose body is marred by multiple surgical sites.
The bandages stark are a white against his pale skin.
Every cautious movement releases a faint scent of medicine and sweat, each moment weighted with the silent promise of hope.
Once I am satisfied with his new position, I take the dropper and administer tiny sips of bone broth past his parched lips; the liquid glistening in the dim light.
“I’ll feed you while you feed him—deal?” Callan offers as my other mates slip quietly into the room, their footsteps muffled on the soft carpet.
The rich, savory scent of steak fills the air as Callan theatrically waves a hunk of meat in my face, the juices dripping onto the floor.
My stomach rumbles with hunger. Reluctantly, I bite into it, the hearty flavor a brief respite as I raise the dropper again to Abraxis’s closed mouth, the glass cool against his skin.
“He should have woken up by now,” Leander murmurs softly, his tone both gentle and mournful.
The words hanging heavily in the air. A low growl builds within me, a primal sound that vibrates through my chest. I fix him with a determined stare, my eyes blazing with fierce resolve.
“He needs time. He will wake up—he doesn’t have a choice.
” I close my eyes, focusing on the deep, shared bond between us, feeling the tender threads that connect our souls.
I pour every ounce of my will into him, willing him to come back to me.
For a fleeting moment, I sense his heart shift its rhythm—a tentative staccato of hope.
“Mina, the doctor said if he doesn’t wake up in a week, he won’t,” Klauth warns, his words heavy with resignation.
The sound grating against my ears. I feel a burning anger rise within me, a surge of protective instinct that sets my blood on fire, as if my very skin were rising with defiant scales.
“He will wake up, even if I have to drag him back from the brink myself. Null will not take him from me—he will wait his turn to hold him.” I gaze at his slack face in the half-light, tracing the elegant lines of his features with my eyes.
In that fragile moment, I swear I see a tear glimmer at the corner of his eye, a silent plea for help.
“He’s strong, a fighter. If anyone can cheat death, it’s Abraxis,” Balor asserts confidently as he takes a plate from Callan and offers me a chunk of steak.
The rich, iron tang of the steak mingles with my anxiety as I reluctantly accept it.
The flavor bursts on my tongue, a momentary distraction from the pain that grips my heart.
I close my eyes and press both my hands against his chest, feeling the faint, irregular throb of his heart beneath my palms. “Null will not have you,” I murmur, channeling every ounce of my shared vitality into him, willing my strength to become his.
Even with seven mates sharing our life force, I know I have more power than any other living dragoness.
I will spare every bit for my wounded love, a sacrifice I make willingly.
As fatigue sets in, a heavy weight that settles in my bones.
I pull my hands away and resume feeding him the nourishing broth, the liquid warm and soothing as it slides down his throat.
Every drop feels like a silent promise, a vow that I won’t give up on Abraxis until he chooses to.
Until he returns to me or slips away forever.
Even the doctors marvel at his unlikely survival, their eyes wide with disbelief.
But I refuse to surrender, my determination as unyielding as the scales that line my spine.
A sharp knock at the door shatters the quiet, the sound jarring and loud in the stillness.
Vox, Cerce, Warwick, and half a dozen familiar dragons from our flights stand in the doorway, their expressions etched with concern, their eyes filled with a shared sorrow.
“Klauth told us of an ancient rite of benefaction—our essence can heal another,” Vox says, his gaze softening as he looks at his son.
The lines of his face deepening with grief.
Klauth steps to my side, resting a steady hand on my shoulder, his touch a grounding presence in the chaos.
“It’s our last hope, my treasure,” he murmurs, kissing the crown of my head before Vox takes Balor’s seat opposite me.
The chair creaks beneath his weight. “I gift my son a spark of my essence so he can return to us,” Vox declares as he lays his hands on Abraxis’s bare chest. I feel a cool surge of energy pass into him—a silent current that sends shivers down my spine.
“Come back, my precious boy,” Cerce whispers as she places her hands on him, her voice thick with unshed tears.
One by one, each dragon who has crossed Abraxis’s path bestows a spark of life.
With every gift, I feel his strength growing.
Tears well in my eyes as I watch his battered body absorb the healing essence, the sight of a miracle unfolding before me.
When the last dragon departs, their footsteps fading into the distance.
Klauth sits across from me, his eyes soft but determined as he surveys Abraxis, taking in the full extent of his injuries.
“We don’t always see eye to eye, Abraxis,” he breathes.
A trace of regret in his tone, the words heavy with unspoken emotion.
“But one thing is clear: keeping you safe for, Mina, is what matters most.” He tilts his head and sighs, the sound weary and resigned.
“I gift you a spark of my essence. Return to our mate; she is grieving herself to death over you.”
My heart clenches as I look up at him. My eyes are wide with a mix of gratitude and disbelief, and I whisper, “You gave him more than a spark.” Klauth’s hands move over Abraxis’s chest, his touch gentle and sure.
I feel a powerful surge ripple through him, a current of energy that takes my breath away. My eyes widen in shock.
“We need you, Mina. If preserving Abraxis’s life means sharing centuries with you, then sacrificing a few years is a small price,” Klauth declares, his voice steady and sure.
Leaning over, he presses a tender kiss to my lips.
The touch is soft and lingering, before leaving the room with a final nod, his footsteps echoing in the silence.
I have been at Abraxis’s bedside for what feels like an eternity, the hours blending together in a haze of fear and hope .
I finish feeding Abraxis while my mates help reposition him.
They gently turn him onto his side, elevating his head with care, and placing a soft pillow between his knees, the fabric cool and smooth against his skin.
I curl up close, my head resting near his fragile chest as I listen to the soft, irregular beats of his heart.
In the fading light, I silently pray to Tamara, the goddess of healers and mercy, my lips moving in a fervent plea.
I beg her to return Abraxis to me, to spare his life and give us more time together.
Exhaustion overwhelms me, a heavy weight that settles in my bones, and sleep finally drapes its heavy veil over my eyes, as relentless as my determination to keep him alive.
As I drift off, I cling to the hope that tomorrow will bring a new dawn, a chance for a future with the man I love by my side.
I feel the warmth of someone’s embrace, a steady, comforting weight against me.
I long for five more minutes in this cocoon of safety, the desire to linger in this moment almost overwhelming.
Yet when I next stir, my eyes fluttering open, I find myself alone, the space beside me cold and empty.
Ziggy must have slipped me out of Abraxis’s hospital bed, his touch gentle and careful.
As I scan the room, blinking away the lingering haze of sleep.
I notice he hasn’t shifted me in the least—and Abraxis is nowhere to be seen, his absence a sharp ache in my chest. I reach for his tether, my fingers closing around the coarse texture, the sensation stronger and more reassuring than anything I’ve felt in days.
Following it through the dim corridor, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic and the faint, metallic tang of blood.
I make my way into the sitting room, my footsteps muffled on the plush carpet .