Page 19 of Thauglor (Dragonis Academy Year 3.5 #5)

Chapter Fourteen

Something’s shifted in the surrounding air.

I don’t know what has happened—I can’t put my finger on it, but the energy feels different, charged with an electricity that makes my confined scales prickle.

Klauth’s tone filters through my prison like distant thunder.

“Ziggy, you and Balor go in together. Establishing dominance shouldn’t be an issue, since neither of you are dragons. ”

Silence stretches out like a held breath until I can feel Klauth pick my egg up.

His hands cradle the shell with familiar warmth, but tension radiates through his grip like coiled wire.

I’m on edge, every instinct screaming that something isn’t right.

The air tastes wrong—thick with anticipation and barely restrained need.

Then the answer comes to me like lightning striking my consciousness. Mina’s fertile. The realization hits me with the force of a physical blow, making my confined muscles clench with desperate longing. The scent must be driving every male in the vicinity to madness.

“You better hatch before our mate’s next cycle.

I swear if I have to wrangle this again alone, I will punt your egg off a cliff.

” Klauth’s tone is dead serious, carrying the weight of exhausted frustration.

The threat vibrates through the shell, but underneath I hear the desperation of a dragon pushed to his limits.

“For fuck’s sake, you think I want to be trapped in here instead of taking care of our mate’s every want and need?

Making her scream my name so loud that Bahamut himself hears it!

” I yell into the void of my prison. The words tear from my throat like molten metal, burning with centuries of pent-up desire and rage.

“Don’t yell at me because your descendant didn’t make our mate submit last cycle. I wasn’t even hatched yet.” Klauth’s voice carries a bitter accusation that tastes like copper in my mouth. So it’s my descendant’s fault our young mate is almost feral with need. The shame burns through me like acid.

‘What happened to my mighty bloodline since our imprisonment?’ I rest a taloned hand against the shell, hoping he hears me clearly. The smooth surface feels cold under my palm, a constant reminder of my helpless state. My bloodline was once feared across continents—what has it become?

“There are no wyrm dragons. Males aren’t reaching full maturity.” Klauth’s voice carries a deep resonance that tells me he’s lost in thought, trying to solve a giant puzzle whose pieces keep shifting. The implications make my stomach clench with dread.

‘Are we the last?’ I ask my best friend, trying to gauge the state of the world sight unseen. The question hangs in the air like smoke from a funeral pyre.

“It looks that way. Our mate is stronger than most of the males born these days. Given her bloodline, I am not surprised.” Klauth’s voice radiates with pride that tastes like honey mixed with sorrow. The admiration of our mate can’t quite mask the tragedy of what our species has become.

‘It’s a sad state of affairs when a female is born stronger than most of the males,’ I think, the words heavy with centuries of witnessed decline. The natural order has crumbled while we slept in cursed shells, leaving our magnificent mate to shoulder burdens that should never be hers alone.

I slip off into slumber again, trying to ignore the call of my mate that burns through our bond like liquid fire.

Her need pulses against my consciousness in waves that make my confined body ache with sympathetic desire.

This is the worst torture I have ever endured in my existence—to feel her calling for me, desperate for the relief only a true mate can provide, while I remain trapped in this cursed prison.

The scent of her fertility seeps through even my magical confinement, making every cell in my body scream to break free and claim what’s mine.

Soon, I tell myself as her need washes over me in torturous waves.

Soon I’ll be free to give her everything she craves, to show her what it means to be claimed by a dragon who’s waited centuries for her touch.

Flashes of what looks like the future flicker in my mind’s eye as I remain cradled in Mina’s arms. Her warmth seeps through the shell like liquid sunlight, but the visions cut through that comfort like shards of broken glass.

She’s been stolen, and then she sees the teacher responsible.

Terror radiates from her through our bond, making my confined muscles tense with rage.

A thunderous roar echoes in her mind, and I recognize it as my voice.

The sound reverberates through the vision like an earthquake shaking the foundations of reality.

My drake is roaring for its mate with a fury that could level mountains.

Everything appears as seen from her perspective, and it’s fragmented—pieces of a nightmare puzzle that makes my stomach clench with dread.

She’s a veil walker, the most dangerous and valuable intrinsic to exist. The realization hits me like a physical blow.

No wonder the curse found her—she’s rarer than phoenix tears and twice as deadly.

She’s caught in the coils of a lesser basilisk, their scale plates larger than a regular basilisk.

The creature’s grip looks crushing, and rage burns through me like molten metal.

Dirt falls from the ceiling in the vision, and I can see white scales on my maw.

The sight shocks me—I don’t remember having that many white scales before my imprisonment.

The silver spreads across my snout like frost on dark stone.

How long exactly have I been trapped in this cursed shell?

Centuries feel like moments when you’re unconscious, but the evidence of aging stares back at me.

The next part of the vision shows me melting a basilisk.

Acid streams from my jaws in torrents that eat through scale and bone like water through paper.

The satisfaction that floods through me tastes like copper and victory.

Then I’m yanked out of the vision and back to reality with jarring suddenness.

I get to rescue my mate. The knowledge fills me with fierce anticipation that makes my confined heart race. That’s one hell of a way to make an entrance—bursting free from centuries of imprisonment to save the one who chose me.

Mina’s heart rate accelerates, and I try to listen to everything happening around me. The rapid rhythm pounds through our bond like war drums. I hear Mina and the basilisk Balor talking about when I will hatch. Their voices carry hope mixed with uncertainty.

“Warmer... Spring perhaps? Summer?” The possibilities dance through my consciousness like promises of freedom. I honestly can’t wait to bask in the sun again, letting it heat my scales until they glisten like polished obsidian. The fantasy of warmth on my face makes my chest tight with longing.

Mina talks about her suspicions, and it’s everything she already told me in whispered confidences.

I know when I come to save her; I need to keep my eyes shut.

Hopefully, my connection to her will be strong enough to see through her eyes since she’s already bonded strongly to Klauth.

The thought of navigating through her vision sends electricity through my confined form.

Mina’s heart speeds up again, and I feel her in motion. Her body moves with purpose that translates through the shell as subtle shifts and sways. Muffled words drift to me about a purge and how my mate killed someone else’s mate. The conversation carries a weight that makes the air feel thick.

Shock ripples through Mina like cold water, then acceptance settles over her like a warm blanket.

A low, contented purr—deep and resonant as her inner dragoness awakens—vibrates through my egg.

The sound makes every scale on my body tingle with sympathetic pleasure.

“You are not a monster, Balor. You... are a very good male—a wonderful mate and my best friend,” Mina comforts him.

Her voice carries such tenderness it makes my throat tight with emotion.

I can only assume Balor used his stone gaze on the threat. The thought of him protecting our mate while I remain trapped fills me with both gratitude and frustrated rage.

I listen to the romantic exchange between them and realize how vast my mate’s heart truly is.

She loves with a fierceness that puts dragons to shame, offering comfort and acceptance where others would show fear.

I hear as she promises to basically torch the continent for him, her voice carrying the absolute certainty of deadly devotion.

He mentions that he and the one called Ziggy will be her personal guards from now on.

A basilisk and, if I remember correctly, a displacer beast are on guard duty.

I couldn’t ask for a better security force for my mate.

Their combined abilities would challenge even ancient dragons.

Well, I know I would be better protection, but that’s a future me problem.

The anticipation builds in my chest like pressure in a steam engine. Soon, I tell myself as her warmth continues to seep through the shell. Soon I’ll be free to stand guard myself, to protect what’s mine with acid and talons instead of helpless rage.

Later in the evening, Mina discusses her vision with the nest. Every detail she told me previously in horrific detail now spills from her lips again.

Her voice carries the weight of prophecy and dread.

Hearing her retell it now doesn’t lessen the horror that creeps up my spine like ice water through my veins.

But it’s when she explains it to the rest of her mates that true terror seeps into my bones.

Mina says she can’t shift, and that alone is a huge problem.

Her voice breaks slightly on the words, and the helplessness radiating through our bond makes my confined claws flex with protective rage.

Dark forces are mentioned, along with a hag who works at the academy.

The very thought makes my stomach clench with murderous intent.

I swear on my last scale that whoever hurts my mate will die by my talons—slowly, painfully, while I watch the light fade from their eyes.

Balor, her basilisk mate, shifts with a sound like leather sliding over stone. He coils around her so that maybe she can finish the vision. The gesture fills me with both gratitude and jealousy—he can offer a solution I cannot provide from within this cursed shell.

I’m barely able to stay awake in Klauth’s hands until he allows me to see through his eyes.

The connection feels like trying to peer through thick fog, more hazy than anything else, but I can make out the outline of the basilisk coiled around our mate.

His massive form wraps around her like living armor, scales catching the firelight and casting shifting shadows.

Something gets said, and Klauth responds with reverence that makes my chest tight.

“It was once common practice,” he murmurs, his voice carrying the weight of ancient tradition.

“We can sense parts of ourselves, even if we can’t sense your dragon.

” He’s talking about the scale exchange—the most sacred bond between mates.

I rest my hand over where my heart pounds against my ribs, imagining having one of my mate’s scales proudly placed there.

The fantasy makes my throat close with emotion.

To be honored by your mate with one of her scales is the greatest gift besides hatchlings.

The bond becomes unbreakable except in death, tying souls together across time and space.

Klauth’s response is measured, his tone calm despite the tension crackling through the air like electricity before a storm.

“We need a scale from Mina, and all that has to happen is we cut our flesh and implant the scale. In theory, the scale will only live on a true mate.” His words carry the certainty of ancient knowledge.

How much longer am I going to be trapped in this eternal hell?

The question burns through me like acid.

I should be there, down on one knee before my mate, offering her one of my scales with trembling hands and a heart full of devotion.

The image plays in my mind—her surprised gasp, the warmth in her eyes as she accepts my offering, the moment our bond becomes permanently sealed.

I can feel pulses through the faint tether with Mina—sharp spikes of sensation that make my scales tingle even within the shell.

I can only assume it’s when she gives and receives scales from her other mates.

Each pulse carries echoes of pain mixed with profound joy, the brief agony of cutting flesh followed by the euphoria of permanent bonding.

The jealousy burns through me like molten metal, but it’s tempered by understanding. They can offer her what I cannot—physical presence, comfort, protection. But someday soon, I tell myself as another pulse of bonding energy flows through our connection.

One day soon, I will honor my mate by offering her one of my scales.

That will be the second-greatest day of my life.

The anticipation tastes like honey mixed with desperate longing.

The first will be the day I can finally hold her and kiss her how I’ve dreamed about for centuries—fierce and claiming, showing her exactly how much she means to me.

My fantasies always end the same way: her in my arms, safe and whole, while I whisper promises against her lips about never letting her face danger alone again. The vision keeps me sane in this endless darkness, a beacon of hope that burns brighter with each passing day.