The miasma seeping from the cracks in the door twisted and coiled like a living thing, dark tendrils of malevolence that pricked at the edges of his mind. There was something behind it—something powerful, something dangerous.
But above all, something that called to him. The amulet hanging around his neck began to thrum, sending a pulse of warmth through his chest. It wasn't a comforting warmth; it was hot, almost scalding.
The dragon pushed the doubt down, focusing instead on the heavy pulse of the amulet in his hand. It was his only link to the egg.
Taking a deep breath, the dragon squared his shoulders, gathered his pride, and stepped forward. The metal was cold against his palm as he grasped the handle. His heart hammered in his chest, his breath steadying as he tightened his grip on the amulet, feeling its pulse match his own. He hated this feeling of uncertainty he had developed over time since leaving the
