29. Callan
Callan
Saturday…
What was I thinking? My fingers are unsteady as I button up the dark gray shirt, the fabric feeling foreign on my skin after so long. I glance around my old room at Shadowcarve, memories pressing down like ghosts. It’s been ages since I last set foot here. My gaze shifts to the bed, the same one where I used to dream of freedom and adventure. But there’s no room for nostalgia now, not when I’m about to face her.
I pull on a pair of comfortable jeans, trying to quell the nervous energy bubbling inside me. Mina … No, Willamina. Everything about this feels precarious, like I’m about to step off a cliff without knowing if there’s solid ground below. And then there’s Ziggy—flitting back and forth between Shadowcarve and Malivore like a man possessed. His updates are rapid fire, his energy a whirlwind that only adds to the storm brewing in my chest .
“Abraxis is still trying to convince her to leave the egg at home.” Ziggy’s voice pulls me back. “It’s almost like it’s bonded to her as strongly as he is.” He pauses, brow furrowing, as if he’s just realized something. “Is that possible?”
His words sink in like lead. I pause mid-motion, fingers frozen in my hair. “What do you mean, bonded?” My voice is sharper than I intend, the room seeming to close in as I turn to face him fully.
Ziggy takes a step back, eyes widening before his hand flies up to cover his mouth. “I—uh—” He stammers, gaze darting to the floor. Then, with a soft pop, he vanishes.
“Damn it, Ziggy.” Frustration wells up as I grab the tome on the cursed eggs. My heart pounds against my ribs as I flip through the brittle pages, my hands shaking slightly. The familiar smell of old parchment and ink fills the room, grounding me. The curse cycle … doomed to repeat until the eggs find their mates. But there’s more, something darker. My breath catches as I read the passage over again. Females aren’t supposed to be strong enough to be chosen. They’ll be damned … unless?—
My pulse spikes. Willamina was strong enough to be selected. A surge of protectiveness, fear, and something else I can’t name floods through me. I throw a bookmark in the tome and tuck it under my arm. There’s no time to lose. I’m practically sprinting through the hallways, making my way to the conservatory and up the winding staircases. Every step echoes louder than it should, every breath too harsh.
By the time I burst through the door, I catch sight of Abraxis and his sister Cora disappearing into the back room where Willamina is. My gaze locks onto Abraxis, and I wave him over .
“We may have a potential problem in a few years.” The words tumble out, rough and ragged. I slap the book down on the table and flip it open to the passage that’s burned itself into my mind. My fingers hover over the text as Abraxis’s eyes narrow, skimming the page.
“It could just be a maternal bond from her dragoness,” Abraxis murmurs, but his eyes are dark with worry. “She said her dragoness wanted an egg.” He tries to smile, but it’s strained, a poor mask for the dread lurking beneath. He forces himself to look away, back to the book. “Since no one knows how the red egg acts, we’ll have to document anything of interest for historical sake.”
My mouth opens to respond, but a sudden yell cuts through the air.
“You did what?!”
Willamina’s voice is sharp, the kind that can cut through bone. Abraxis and I exchange a look before we rush to her room. My blood goes cold at the sight—Willamina has Ziggy pinned to the wall with one hand. Her fingers shifted to talons inches from his chest. The deadly curve of her talons gleams in the low light.
“It slipped. I’m sorry…” Ziggy’s voice is a broken whisper, his eyes wide as he glances frantically at the door. He shakes his head, a silent plea for us to stay back.
The moment Willamina’s gaze flickers to the side, Ziggy vanishes from her grasp. He could’ve done that at any time, but … why didn’t he?
Willamina spins to face me, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and something deeper, something I don’t recognize. The air crackles with tension, and for a moment, I think she might tear into me next. But then she draws in a deep breath, shoulders dropping as she reins herself in .
“I’m ready when you are,” I say softly, bowing my head slightly in deference. I’ve never been one to back down, but something tells me pushing her now would be like poking a sleeping dragon. Her gaze darts to Abraxis, then down to the egg carrier. I can almost see the gears turning in her head, calculating, assessing.
She narrows her eyes, lips pressing into a thin line before she turns and moves to the pillows. Shifting them around, she places the egg carrier in the center and sets Iris—a tiny bundle of scales and wings—on top of it.
“No one, I mean no one, touches the egg. If they try, torch them.” Her voice is low, edged with steel. Iris chirps, lifting her little head and spreading her wings to shield the egg completely.
“Alright, let’s go,” Willamina says curtly, brushing past me without so much as a glance.
It takes a second for my legs to work again, but I turn on my heel and race to catch up with her. She’s fast, but she pauses just long enough to kiss Abraxis goodbye. There’s a glimmer of something soft in her eyes, something that fades the second she looks at me again.
“After you,” I say quickly, opening the door and bowing slightly, hoping to ease the strain between us. I’m rewarded with a raised brow, a look that says she sees right through me. But there’s a flicker of curiosity too. Something I can work with.
She walks past me, then halts. I tense, but she just looks back at me with that sharp, assessing gaze. “Why do you call me Willa while the others call me Mina?” She moves closer, stepping into my blind spot, looping her arm through mine in a gesture that’s strangely intimate.
“You basically just answered your own question,” I say quietly, guiding her down the stairs. “No one else calls you Willa. Unless you don’t like it. I can call you Mina, if that’s what you prefer.”
She’s silent for a moment, eyes searching mine as if weighing my words. Then she shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I was just curious. I don’t mind Willa.”
Relief loosens the tight coil in my chest. We step outside, and she glances around, a question already forming on her lips. “How are we getting to town?”
I draw in a deep breath, steadying myself. This is the part that makes my heart race for all the wrong reasons. “We’re going to fly together. Part of the bond strengthening for a Gryphon is to fly with their intended mate.” My voice is soft, almost apologetic. “I haven’t flown in over a hundred years, so … I may fatigue on the flight back.”
Willamina tilts her head, a playful smile breaking through the tension. “Want me to carry you?” Her eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief, but there’s genuine concern, too. “I mean, my dragoness is rather large, and it might be easier for you.” She winces slightly, clearly unsure how I’m going to take it.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I think I’ll manage.” But the words come out steadier than I feel. This is going to be one hell of a flight—if I don’t mess it up completely.
I shift, feeling my bones contort and elongate, muscle and sinew snapping into new configurations as I take on my feathered form. Pain pulses through me, but I grit my beak and focus on the powerful stretch of my wings as I shake them out. My feathers rustle and shimmer in the fading light, each beat sending a ripple through my body. I spread my wings wide several times, feeling the strain and burn in my muscles. Please, just hold—just for this, I pray to the Gods, desperate that my wings will carry me through whatever’s coming next.
The soft crunch of footsteps draws my attention. Mina steps closer, a curious, appraising look on her face. “Hmm … I was almost right about the coloring,” she murmurs thoughtfully. Her fingers reach out, brushing against the feathers along my neck. I tense under her touch, shivering at the unexpected gentleness. “Your feathers are so soft,” she whispers, her voice carrying a hint of wonder.
She circles me, her gaze sweeping over every inch of my shifted form. Her scrutiny is so intense, it feels as though she’s laying me bare. I keep turning my head, trying to keep my good eye on her as she moves. How long is she going to stare? My heart pounds harder with every step she takes. I’ve never felt this exposed, not even when I first learned to shift. Her presence unnerves me, stirring something raw and uncertain within.
“Let’s hope you can keep up,” Willa’s voice breaks through the tension like a whip crack. She steps forward, her expression cool and assessing. I swallow hard as she begins her shift. Bones break and snap, scales erupting over her skin as her enormous form takes shape. Iron and emerald scales glint like polished gems, edged with iron that gleams in the setting sun. The sheer size of her dragoness is overwhelming—imposing and regal, a creature of absolute power. The horns framing her tall, proud frill are lined with faint etchings of silver markings that make her look even more fearsome.
She lowers her head, massive nostrils flaring as she sniffs at my feathers. Her hot breath ruffles them, and my entire shift tenses in response. Run . The instinct screams through me, and I have to fight to keep still. Having a larger predator this close is a terrifying reminder of our differences. Are we that out of sync? Did I damage our bond beyond repair that my shift is afraid of our mate? The thought cuts deep, guilt tightening my chest.
With a snap, Willa spreads her enormous wings wide, the membranes catching the breeze like sails on a ship. The powerful downward thrust that follows nearly drives me to the ground. I stumble, struggling to maintain balance as the wind she kicks up whips around me. She gains altitude easily, circling above like a sentinel. Her shadow looms over me, a reminder of everything I’m not.
Damn it. I grit my beak and force myself to launch into the air. Every muscle screams in protest as I fight to gain height, each wing beat labored and awkward. Focus. Just keep up. She glides with ease, using a thermal to ascend higher without expending much effort. Meanwhile, I’m flapping hard, every motion an exhausting battle against gravity.
She shifts closer, aligning herself beneath me. I know what she’s offering, and it stings—humiliation and relief warring within me. But pride only goes so far when your wings are ready to give out. With a growl of frustration, I concede, angling down to land on her dragon’s broad back. As soon as my talons find purchase, I shift back.
I slump against her frill, panting as we coast through the sky. Mina keeps her flight smooth and steady, as if she knows how badly I’m hurting. She probably does, I think bitterly, grateful yet ashamed. We touch down in the field an hour later, just outside of town. My legs feel like jelly as I slide down from her back and land on shaky feet.
Willa shifts back in a shimmer of scales and light, her human form emerging effortlessly. She rolls her shoulders, stretching out like she’s just completed a light jog. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice soft. Her gaze flickers to me, filled with something I can’t quite name. “I saw you struggling up there. ”
I close the distance between us, pulling her into a tight hug before I can second guess myself. “Your wing is bigger than my entire body, Willa. It was going to be an issue no matter how hard I tried.” I smile, but it’s strained at the edges, my frustration simmering just below the surface. I loop my arm with hers, gently guiding her to my blind side where I know she wants to be. “You were just being you—looking out for me,” I add softly.
She relaxes a bit, leaning into my side as we walk. The wind whistles through the trees, and the smell of earth and fresh grass fills the air. For a moment, everything feels right. But doubt still gnaws at me, whispering that I’m not enough. That I’ll never be able to match her strength or protect her the way I’m supposed to. And it’s a fear I can’t quite shake, no matter how tightly I hold on to her now.