24. Mina
Mina
The choosing…
I spend the morning pacing the cramped space of my apartment, every creak of the floorboards making me jump. My stomach twists into knots as I think about the Malivore Conservatory. The Choosing—just the thought of it sends a ripple of anxiety through me. I glance out the window, glimpsing Abraxis in the courtyard below, his blade flashing in the early light as he instructs the third years.
His movements are sharp, precise. I watch his muscles ripple under his shirt as he parries an attack, the force of it sending his opponent stumbling back. Despite my unease, a small smile tugs at my lips. The power, the control—there’s a strange comfort in seeing my mate like this. He said he’d be coming with me to the Conservatory, that no rule in the school’s bylaws can deny a mate the right to follow and protect their own.
I want to believe him, but I can’t help the prickling fear crawling up my spine. What if they find a way? What if the bond isn’t enough ?
I need a distraction. Taking a deep breath, I step outside, drawn to the clang of steel and the familiar scent of pine and earth that clings to Abraxis. I settle by the courtyard’s edge, leaning against the cold stone wall. Abraxis shifts his stance as he faces the next challenger, and I marvel at the way his movements blur with raw energy.
“How are you holding up?” Ziggy’s voice startles me, and I turn to see him standing close, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. He tilts his head, studying me with those unnervingly sharp eyes.
“Adjusting,” I admit, though it’s not quite the truth. “It’s weird not being able to hug my friends anymore without feeling like I’m going to hurl. Whatever the bond does to their scents is just … horrible.” I grimace, rubbing at my arms as if I can ward off the lingering discomfort.
Ziggy’s laugh is low, almost rumbling. “Yeah, it’s not exactly pleasant on our end, either. My beast hisses in my head, trying to drag me away from you.” He lifts a brow, as if to challenge me to argue otherwise.
Tilting my head, I glance up at him. “Is it because of the whole ‘bigger predator’ thing or the mate bond? Or both?” My voice is lighter, curious, but there’s a tension coiling tight in my chest. How do the others perceive me now? Do they all feel that instinctual fear, that urge to avoid me like I’m a huge threat?
“All the above,” Ziggy replies, nodding as if that’s the simplest explanation. “Before, you didn’t have your dragoness, so it was a non-issue. Now she’s freaking huge compared to my shift. Add the mate bond, and boom—instinct says to run.”
“Run?” I echo, surprised, but Ziggy just motions towards Abraxis with a grin .
“Relax, your guy’s almost done,” he murmurs.
Just as I turn my attention back to Abraxis, a figure steps into view, her movements deliberate and measured. She’s slender, with her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun, and her gaze flickers warily to my mate as he strides over. My pulse quickens as she addresses me.
“Willamina Bladesong?” Her voice is soft, her head dipping slightly in a show of deference. She doesn’t meet my eyes, a clear sign she knows exactly who I am. Or rather, who I’m mated to.
“Yes?” I force myself to sound calm, even as my heart pounds. The girl reaches out, a cream-colored envelope pinched between her fingers. She doesn’t say another word and quickly turns, hurrying off campus like she’s fleeing a crime scene. I frown, watching her go.
“What do you think that was about?” I mutter, staring at the envelope in my hand.
“Let me see.” Ziggy plucks it from my grasp, and I glance up at him, surprised at the sudden wariness in his eyes. “I don’t trust Arista,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me. Tension thrums through the air as he carefully tears open the envelope, his fingers working with deliberate slowness.
The flap gives way, revealing a simple card. My breath catches. It’s white, almost stark against Ziggy’s tanned skin, with a single number printed on it.
Thirteen
“It’s your draw order,” Ziggy explains, his voice flat. He waves the card in the air before handing it back. “Number thirteen out of fifty.”
Thirteen. The number feels heavy in my hand, and I swallow hard, unease tightening around my chest like a vice. Abraxis appears at my side, his arm slipping around my shoulders, grounding me.
“We should get going,” I murmur, leaning into him. He scoops me up effortlessly, and a surprised laugh bubbles out of me as he launches us into the air, his wings slicing through the sky. Wind whips past, tugging at my hair and clothes as he pulls me closer, his chest rumbling softly with every beat of his powerful wings.
“You realize my legs work, right?” I tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek, though the tension in my shoulders doesn’t ease.
“I know, but this way, you don’t have to deal with anyone. And I get to hold my mate a little longer.” The corner of his lips lifts in a smirk, but his eyes scan the campus below, always alert.
When we finally land in the courtyard of the Malivore Conservatory, I shudder at the change in atmosphere. Dead, gnarled trees line the courtyard, their twisted branches clawing at the sky. Shadows seem to pool in the corners of the stone walls, and a chill creeps into my bones that has nothing to do with the temperature.
This place feels wrong. Like the air itself is laced with dark magic. I swallow hard, clutching the card tightly in my hand. Abraxis’s arm tightens around me, a silent reminder that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere. I draw in a breath, trying to steady my racing heart, but the unease only grows stronger.
“What’s the matter?” Abraxis murmurs, his voice low and soothing.
“I just … have a bad feeling about this,” I admit quietly, eyes locked on the looming entrance ahead. The doors stand tall and foreboding, black iron inlaid with swirling patterns that seem to shift and pulse. I can’t shake the sense that something is watching, waiting .
“Let’s get this over with,” I whisper, stepping forward, the weight of the choosing pressing down like a lead weight on my chest.
Stepping inside the building, the air is thick with tension, just like it was outside. A heavy silence hovers, broken only by murmured voices and the sound of shuffling feet. Students line the walls, every one of them clutching a card like it’s a lifeline. I scan the crowd, my gaze drifting from face to face. Every species on campus is represented today, which only makes the unease claw at my insides even more.
“Feels like lambs to the slaughter,” I murmur under my breath, lips barely moving. My eyes land on Arista, who’s lingering a few feet away, her presence souring the air. I curl my lip. “I swear, if Bahamut gives her an egg, I’m going on a rampage.”
After I get registered, Abraxis leads us to a quieter spot against the wall, away from prying eyes. He presses his back to a column, his wings shifting slightly to accommodate its width, then pulls me close until my back is flush against his chest. The steady beat of his heart thunders against my shoulder blades, grounding me. He lowers his lips to my ear, his voice a low whisper meant just for me.
“Nervous?” His breath, warm against my skin, sends shivers racing down my spine.
“Yes, and no.” I barely have time to respond before a commotion erupts near the double doors—the ones we have to pass through to get to the eggs.
“I have an egg!” A male bursts out of the room, holding an opalescent white egg high above his head, his voice booming with triumph.
“Hmph…” I reach into my leathers and pull out the miniature cards Callan and I painstakingly created, each one listing details on the cursed eggs. I flip to the white card. “Odds are it’ll go dormant again ar ound year three.” I shrug and sift through the remaining cards, my fingers nimble despite the tension coiled tight in my chest.
“Which one are you hoping for?” Abraxis tightens his hold, a silent show of support as his wings wrap just a fraction closer around me.
“Honestly? None.” I turn in his arms, looking up to meet his gaze. The swirling mix of colors in his eyes is a comforting chaos, one I’m used to losing myself in. “But, since we’re here and I have to go through with this…” I sigh, glancing over my shoulder at the thick doors hiding our fate. “Either black, green, or red. With everything going on, having extra firepower wouldn’t hurt.”
He grins, the kind of smile that lights up his face and turns his fierce features into something softer, something meant only for me. Leaning down, he presses his lips to my temple. “There’s my little deadly tactician.”
His grin falters, eyes sharpening into a hard glare as they lock on something—or rather, someone—behind me. The mask of bitter hatred that slips over his face is a chilling contrast to his warmth seconds ago.
“Get your grubby hands off my betrothed,” Arista snaps, the words dripping with venom. She lunges forward, fingers outstretched, to grab Abraxis’s hand. The moment her skin touches his, she recoils, her face contorting as she retches, bile rising to her throat.
My fingers tingle, and then talons burst through the tips, a satisfying snick reverberating in my bones as I whirl around to face her. The growl that rips from my chest is feral, deep. “Yeah, no … My male, my betrothed, my mate.” Scales ripple down my arms, a silver, and emerald shimmer racing across my skin as anger floods my veins. The surge of energy is intoxicating, and if Abraxis wasn’t holding me, I’d be launching a bolt of lightning straight at her heart .
“My love…” His voice drops to that deep, smoky tone that turns my insides to molten heat. My knees weaken, but I manage to keep my stance. “She’s obviously delusional. Touching me made her sick. Let the poor wretch live and suffer, watching you flourish and one day … our nest grow.”
He opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into my shoulder, the sight of his sharp fangs piercing my flesh makes Arista’s eyes widen with horror. Her expression twists, and she turns and runs, stumbling over her own feet in her haste to get away.
Abraxis’s laughter is a soft rumble against my ear as he retracts his teeth and laps gently at the fresh wounds. Him and his love bites.
Lysander steps out into the hallway, his gaze sharp and calculating as it sweeps the length of the corridor. “Number thirteen,” he calls out, his voice echoing softly. He turns his head, looking left and right, his eyes searching for the person holding the marked card.
“Let’s get this over with,” I murmur, resisting the urge to tighten my grip on Abraxis’ arm. Instead, I allow him to guide us forward, the weight of the moment settling heavily on my chest as we approach Lysander. The tension in the air crackles, my dragoness shifting restlessly within me, sensing what’s to come.
Lysander’s gaze glides over us like a physical touch, assessing, measuring. He pauses when we both lift our chins, exposing our throats where our mate marks glisten in the dim light. A flicker of something unreadable crosses his face before he speaks again. “You may join her,” he says, voice low and clipped. “But do not move from the stone where I have you stand.” With a nod, he turns on his heel and strides towards the candlelit chamber.
We follow him in silence. The double doors swing shut behind us with a soft thud, sealing us inside the chamber. My breath catches as I take in the sight before me. The room is cast in a warm, flickering glow, the shadows playing tricks on the obsidian slab that stretches out before us. There, in a half arc, the dragon eggs sit on individual clay rings, each one delicately elevated above the slab’s surface. The obsidian absorbs the ambient magic like a void, ensuring no stray power can influence the eggs.
Abraxis steps onto the marked tile just inside the room, his movements careful and measured. I lean in to give him a quick kiss, feeling his calm presence steady me before I turn back to Lysander.
“What do I do?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper in the stillness.
“Stand here.” He gestures to a block of clear quartz set on the ground a few paces away. I climb onto it, the cool surface grounding me as I glance back at him one more time, searching his expression for any hint of what’s about to happen.
Lysander’s face is a mask of calm detachment. “Call to the eggs,” he instructs. “Either with your voice or with your dragons. Whichever egg responds is yours until it goes dormant or hatches.” He takes a measured step back, aligning himself with a tile identical to Abraxis’. They stand like sentinels, guarding the ritual.
I turn my gaze to the eggs. Their shells shimmer faintly under the candlelight, each one unique in its pattern and hue. My dragoness stirs within me, her presence a heavy, insistent thrum. She wants one of them. I draw a deep breath, feeling her power coiling low in my belly. It builds and builds, a tension that finally releases as a low, resonant pitch vibrates from my throat.
The sound fills the chamber, reverberating off the stone walls and sinking into the eggs’ shells. Her intent bleeds into every note—desire, strength, promise. I let her take control, allowing the song to swell, filling every crevice of the room until the air hums with it. Both males behind me gasp softly as the last note lingers, echoing long after my lips have closed.
Slowly, I open my eyes and see it—the black and red eggs glowing softly, as if awakened from a deep slumber.
“Neither is a safe choice, Mina,” Lysander cautions, his voice strained as he steps closer to me.
I glance back at him, noting the tightness in his jaw, the barely suppressed worry flickering in his eyes. My gaze shifts to Abraxis. He meets my stare, his eyes flicking over to the red egg, a silent message passing between us. This is it. Stepping off the quartz block, I walk slowly toward the eggs, every instinct screaming caution.
But my dragoness purrs with satisfaction as I draw nearer to the red one. The surrounding air hums with barely contained power, the crimson, and silver swirls pulsing in time with my heartbeat.
“Thank you for choosing me,” I whisper softly, my voice meant only for the life stirring within the shell. I reach out, fingers trembling slightly as I touch its smooth surface. Warmth spreads through my palm, and I draw in a deep breath before gently lifting the red egg.
A thrill runs through me as I cradle it close to my chest. The weight of it is perfect—solid, but not too heavy. It hums in my arms, vibrating softly against my skin. I look up to find Lysander staring at me, his face drained of color.
“The red egg never chooses anyone,” he murmurs, voice hollow. He looks almost haunted, like he’s seeing a ghost.
I glance at Abraxis. He stands tall, shoulders back, a look of pride lighting his features as he lowers his head to me in acknowledgment. We did it. I hold the egg tighter, unwilling to let go. Not now, not ever .
“We will get a suite ready for you and your mate to live here with the egg,” Lysander says finally, his voice distant as he turns to leave the chamber.
“There are multi-room suites here,” I call after him, voice stronger now. He pauses, glancing back at me with a frown. “I want one of those. I need Zigmander, Leander, and Balor here for my safety. Oh, and you may as well move Callan here, too.” Abraxis steps forward and opens the door to the hallway as I cradle the red egg protectively against my chest.
The hallway outside is deathly silent as I step through. My dragoness is near the surface, claws ready to strike out at any threat. I feel her daring anyone to come too close.
“That isn’t done—” Lysander starts, and I spin on my heels to face him, rage snapping through me like a live wire.
“Neither is having the red egg choose someone,” I snap, voice edged with a dangerous calm. The smell of ozone fills the air, and I watch small tendrils of lightning flicker through my hair, dancing up to my horns. “You know as well as I do what it means if he hatches. I want my team, and that’s final. If I have to, I will rip this entire campus asunder to feel safe.” My voice reverberates with power, the stones beneath my feet shivering in response.
Abraxis steps in smoothly. “Send word when the suite is ready. We’ll go gather her team in the meantime.” His calm voice cuts through the tension like a knife, and with a firm hand on my back, he guides me and the egg away from Malivore—for now.