Page 75 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)
Abraxis
What’s going to happen now?
The question pounds in my head like a merciless hammer as Ziggy brings us back to the nest. The familiar scent of leather, pine, and that subtle undertone of ash that permeates our home offers little comfort today.
All I can think about is what will happen when they return.
By the rights of inheritance, my father’s lands are Thauglor’s.
The bitter taste of this reality coats my tongue—our nest will now control almost forty-five percent of the continent.
But that territorial shift pales against my deeper fear.
My wing may never be strong enough for flight again.
The dull, throbbing ache that pulses through the damaged muscle with every heartbeat serves as a constant reminder.
“What’s that face for?” Balor’s deep voice cuts through my thoughts as he casually leans against the back of the couch. The leather creaks beneath his weight, and the faint scent of his spiced cologne drifts toward me.
“What do you think?” I roll my eyes and shake my head, the motion sending a fresh wave of pain down my injured wing I struggle not to wince at.
“Other than Callan having to redo the date night calendar again, nothing. We all knew this was coming.” Balor shrugs as he crosses one ankle over the other, his boots gleaming under the warm lights of our living room. His nonchalance grates against my raw nerves.
Ziggy approaches with quiet footsteps, the cold glass of a beer bottle pressed into my palm.
The condensation trickles between my fingers as I finally give voice to the fears that have been clawing at my insides.
“Easy for you to say. My father is about to lose our ancestral lands, and I may be flightless.”
“Mina went head to head with a great wyrm that is unbonded. She stood her ground protecting all of us,” Ziggy says confidently, his eyes reflecting absolute faith. “She will not let anything happen to any of us.”
Shaking my head, I knock back the beer, the bitter liquid burning a path down my throat as I finish half of it in one shot.
The carbonation bubbles against my tongue, a sharp contrast to the heaviness settling in my chest. “You can still phase everywhere. If I can’t fly.
..” The words stick in my throat, and I sigh heavily, staring down at the bottle in my hand, watching the amber liquid swirl inside.
“Who cares!” Mina’s voice cuts through the room like a thunderclap.
I look up to see her striding into the living room, the floorboards vibrating slightly beneath her purposeful steps.
Both ancients follow in her wake, their imposing presence filling the space with a palpable tension that raises the hair on the back of my neck.
“Do you think you were chosen as my mate because of your wings? Flightless or not, you are a powerful male, Abraxis.”
Mina closes the distance between us, the scent of lightning and rain clinging to her skin as she grips my leathers.
Her fingers are warm through the material, her grip firm enough that I can feel the strength coiled in her slender hands.
“Anyone that challenges you—I already have a game plan for that, right, Balor?” She smiles, looking over her shoulder at the man in question, her eyes flashing with that dangerous glint I’ve come to both fear and adore.
“Anyone of dragon blood within a nest can fight in another’s place,” Balor explains, his voice rumbling with pride.
“I can turn my opponent to stone without so much as shifting.” He winks at Mina before grabbing two more beers for the ancients, the caps hissing as he pops them off.
“It seems being mated to Mina has made my scales harder, my toxin stronger, and my ability more deadly.”
“Descendant...” Thauglor’s voice echoes in the living room, the bass tones reverberating in my chest as he draws my attention to him. The ancient’s scent is primal—earth and acid and something older than time itself.
“Yes?” I lower my head out of respect for him, fighting the instinct to bare my throat completely.
“Mina shared with me what happened. What you did to ensure our mate and future progeny were safe.” He steps closer, his footfalls heavy against the floor. I watch Mina tensing, her body coiling like a spring as she sizes him up. Her protective stance warms something deep within me.
I rest a hand on her shoulder, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt, and ease her out of the way. Her reluctance is evident in the tight muscles beneath my palm.
“You were willing to die so that our mate would live,” Thauglor continues, his ancient eyes boring into mine with an intensity that makes it difficult to breathe.
“You have honored our noble bloodline, descendant. My wings and talons are yours. Any that challenge you, challenge me.” He extends his hand toward me, the skin weathered and marked with centuries of battles .
I take it swiftly and shake it, feeling the calluses against my palm, the incredible strength held carefully in check.
“I appreciate that,” I manage, my voice steadier than I expected.
He reaches out and pats my shoulder, the weight of his hand like an anchor, before taking a seat on the couch that groans beneath him.
“You stinky boy need a bath,” Mina pinches her nose playfully, staring at Thauglor. The playful gesture is at odds with the power dynamics swirling in the room.
Klauth full-on belly laughs, the sound rich and warm, filling the corners of the room at the look of confusion crossing Thauglor’s face. “Better do as she says. She can partially wield her lightning in her human form.”
“I do not stink,” Thauglor tilts his head at the angle we all know pisses Mina off, the tendons in his neck standing out prominently.
A low growl escapes her lips as she stares at him, the sound raising goosebumps along my arms. Klauth leans in and whispers something in Thauglor’s ear, his breath causing the ancient’s hair to stir slightly, and immediately, Thauglor adjusts his posture.
“Would you be so kind as to show me where this bath is you speak of?” He stands and bows deeply to Mina, and I damn near forget to breathe, the oxygen catching in my lungs at this unprecedented display.
“Right this way.” Mina wiggles her fingers at Thauglor, her nails catching the light. He closes the distance and takes her hand, allowing her to lead him off. Their footsteps fade down the hallway, accompanied by the soft murmur of voices.
As soon as they are out of earshot, Klauth rounds on me, the sudden movement causing me to tense instinctively. “She survived his acid.” He arches an eyebrow, his expression intense enough that I can almost feel the heat of his gaze.
“Okay? It’s a known fact she can withstand acid.” I glance over at Balor and Callan as he enters the room .
“Your acid, yes. A green dragon’s, absolutely.
” Klauth’s voice drops lower, compelling me to lean in despite myself.
“A great wyrm’s acid is more concentrated.
Mina said her scales tingled a little. That was it.
Her scales should have melted or been burnt.
Yet there’s not a single scratch on her.
” He raises an eyebrow like I’m supposed to understand what he’s getting at, the implications hanging heavy in the air between us.
“Do you think it’s because of being fully bonded to you, or her plans to have a clutch next year?” Balor asks before he finishes his beer off, the empty bottle clinking as he sets it down on the wooden coffee table.
“Both. Her dragoness is gearing up for war.” Klauth’s words send a chill down my spine despite the warmth of the room. “Once she bonds Thauglor, I don’t know how indestructible she’ll be.”
Ziggy passes out fresh beers to us, the tops hissing as they’re twisted off, releasing the hoppy aroma into the air. The condensation from my bottle seeps into my palm as I take it.
Mina comes walking back out, her bare feet silent against the floor, and heads straight to the fridge.
Her thin cotton dress moving on a phantom breeze.
The door opens with a soft suction sound, and cool air billows out as she pulls out a bottle of wine.
The dark glass gleams under the kitchen lights.
Shifting a finger to a talon—the transformation so smooth it’s barely noticeable.
She pulls the cork out with a satisfying pop and pours two glasses.
The rich, burgundy liquid cascades into the crystal with a gentle gurgle.
She looks up at us and tilts her head, her hair falling across her cheek in a way that makes my fingers itch to brush it back. “What? I don’t like beer.” She shrugs her shoulders, the movement fluid and graceful.
“Who’s the second glass for?” I sip at my beer as I move to sit on the stool, the cold metal pressing against the back of my thighs through my pants.
“Thauglor. I asked if he wants beer or wine. He said wine.” Smiling broadly, Mina purrs, the sound vibrating in the air between us, sending a jolt of awareness through my body.
“I finally have one of you to drink wine with. Well, besides Lee.” With both glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other, Mina leaves us all behind speechless.
The gentle sway of her hips as she walks away draws my gaze like a magnet.
“He hasn’t eaten in over a thousand years, and she’s giving him wine,” I say with a laugh that feels rough in my throat.
Balor coughs, having inhaled his beer, the liquid spraying slightly as he struggles to breathe. “She’s gonna get him drunk.”
All eyes turn to Klauth, and I watch as the blood drains from his face, leaving him pale as bone. “Shit.” The word comes out as a strangled whisper before he takes off running down the hallway after them, his footsteps thundering against the floor.