Page 62 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)
“I need to make clay dragon eggs,” I blurt out, the words tumbling from my lips before I can stop them. I blink, startled by my declaration, realizing I’ve missed saying half of my own internal conversation.
“Can we back that up a step or two?” Vaughn’s deep voice interrupts my racing thoughts as he steps into view, shifting seamlessly into his gargoyle form. Before I can protest, he sweeps me up in his massive wings, and panic prickles through my veins.
“Let me out...” I push hard against the enclosure, stepping away with my heart hammering in my chest. I avoid meeting Abraxis’s gaze, knowing it would only serve to remind him of his injured wing .
Abraxis moves closer, pulling me gently to his side and wrapping his strong right wing around me. In his embrace, I find a calm that contrasts sharply with the chaos in my mind, like a balm to my frayed nerves. “Mate, what do you need clay dragon eggs for?” he asks, his voice a soothing rumble.
I nuzzle into the curve of his jaw, purring softly.
“Bait for my father,” I confess. “When I lay my clutch next year, I need the clay eggs ready. I have to paint them to mimic the real ones.” Carefully, I nudge Abraxis’s wing aside just enough to see everyone clearly.
“I want to dig a dummy nest further down the mountains, somewhere between here and Vox’s territory. ”
Klauth’s voice cuts in, laced with skepticism and a hint of revulsion. “Okay, so a second nest for the clay eggs. But they won’t smell like dragon eggs.”
“They will,” I insist, my tone firm despite the quiver of uncertainty. “When I lay my real eggs, a viscous mucus is released. We’ll roll the clay eggs in that goo so they pick up the scent perfectly.” I arch an eyebrow, gauging my mates’ reactions in the flickering kitchen light.
Klauth shivers visibly, his scales catching the dim glow.
“Accurate, but disgusting,” he mutters, his voice low and rough.
“It will scent the eggs as long as they don’t get wet.
So, do I need to dig another nest for you?
” His tone carries a teasing possessiveness as he steps closer.
His hand reaches out to caress my cheek with a gentle yet insistent touch that sends shivers down my spine.
“Over the summer break,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. I meet Klauth’s eyes, even as I remain cradled in Abraxis’s secure hold. The air feels heavy, the tension in the room tightening like a coiled spring.
Ziggy’s casual question breaks the silence. “When do you get abducted? ”
“That’s not clear yet,” I admit slowly, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle in my gut. “It means Lysander hasn’t made a final decision. Or perhaps I haven’t made one yet.” I nestle deeper under Abraxis’s protective wing, my thoughts as turbulent as the shadows dancing on the walls.
Balor’s voice cuts through the stillness as he passes out drinks. “So, what are the options?”
I close my eyes, letting the possibilities wash over me.
“Option one: play in the war games and stay at the outpost,” I murmur, but no spark of relief ignites within me.
“Option two: don’t participate in the war games and remain on campus somewhere.
” The moment the second option leaves my lips, it feels as if the wind is sucked out of me, leaving me trembling.
My mind fast-forwards through a bleak future.
I see myself on campus, walking beside one of the assigned fourth years.
A wide arc of crimson suddenly explodes into darkness.
When vision returns, I am in a cold tunnel, against a rough stone wall, staring at a vast, empty room.
The fourth year has vanished, leaving me drenched in his blood.
The metallic scent of it clings to my skin, and the echo of my racing heartbeat fills the silence.
I blink, pulling myself out of the harrowing vision. I notice that my two dragon mates have seen everything, their eyes reflecting shock and concern. Panting, I steady my spinning head and cling tighter to Abraxis, careful not to pull him down.
Klauth’s voice breaks through the haze. “So if you avoid the war games, that is when you will be abducted?”
“I’m guessing so,” I admit, slipping away from Abraxis’s wing and beginning to pace the living room. Every step on the cold floor sends a jolt through me.
I turn to Abraxis, my gaze flickering to the bird perched over his shoulder. “How good is Rebel at spying on me? ”
“Pretty good. Why?” Abraxis arches a brow, his eyes steady and inquisitive.
“He needs to follow me around during the war games,” I explain, my voice growing more confident.
“At least then you all will know exactly when I get abducted. He can tail me to wherever they hide me, and Balor can play the knight in obsidian scales to save my ass.” Despite the absurdity, the plan sounds practical—a strategy born from the chaos in my head.
Callan’s comment cuts through the air. “Tactically, that’s brilliant. What are we going to do about Lemon?”
I laugh, a sound that feels both relieved and defiant, as Iris lands lightly on my shoulder. “Iris will handle that. She’s got a score to settle with Lemon.” I press a soft kiss against her cool, smooth scales and smile back at the group. “Iris will be Rebel’s bodyguard.”
Abraxis’s confession is laced with uncertainty. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“Do you have any better ideas?” I ask, tilting my head as I lean back against Klauth. His arms wrap around me slowly, offering a silent promise of comfort, and I let out a soft sigh.
Balor’s declaration cuts through the room. “I think we should run with it. Can you breathe that sleep toxin in human form, or only in your dragon form?” He tilts his head, curiosity mingling with amusement.
Vaughn moves closer, his form shifting to his gargoyle self. “Test it on me. Even if there’s acid, my stone skin should protect me.”
I fix my gaze on him as he nods slowly. My face contorts with concentration.
The bone plates beneath my skin shift slightly, and I feel the roof of my mouth alter as the transformation takes hold.
I almost hiss when a purplish-blue gas escapes my lips.
Within seconds, Vaughn collapses to the ground, the sound of sizzling fluid mingling with the low hum of the room.
“It works, but there’s acid involved,” I sigh, watching him sleep on the cold floor, his skin glistening with droplets that burn the floor when they fall.
Leander’s quiet voice cuts through the stillness, thoughtful and measured. “It’s good to know you can do it.”
“True...” I murmur, staring at Vaughn’s unconscious form. Tomorrow is bound to be an interesting day. Preparations for the war games begin during third period, and I know I need to give Vaughn every advantage possible.