Chapter 138: Shackles and Secrets

Rowan’s worst fears came true.

The sight that greeted him rooted his feet to the ground.

No wonder he had never liked this space!

Rowan’s voice cracked as he stumbled forward. “What… what is happening? Why is he even in a cell?”

Queen Rhiannon turned her head slowly, and the look she gave him made his stomach sink. Her eyes blazed with betrayal, her expression livid and raw, her entire face a storm of fury and disappointment.

She flung his question back at him like a blade. “Why? Why, Rowan? What did you expect when you left me with no choice?”

He staggered back, his lips parting in disbelief. “No choice? Mother, what are you talking about?”

“I heard it,” she snapped, her voice rising to a manic pitch. “All of it! You,” she said, pointing at him, “you encouraged the human! You told him a way to hasten the search. You even gave him a suggestion!” Her laugh broke sharp, twisted, nothing like the dignified queen he knew.

“My own son… betraying us, betraying him! And the others must be in on it too. Your siblings—of course, they helped you with this plan. They’re out to get Finn, too!”

Rowan’s throat closed. “No… that’s not what—”

But she cut over him, muttering under her breath as if reasoning with herself, “If you hadn’t made it worse, if you hadn’t interfered, I wouldn’t have had to step in. I wouldn’t have had to do this…”

“Mother!” Rowan’s voice cracked as he tried to reach her through her delusions. “It’s not as you think!”

Her eyes narrowed, cold and unyielding. “Lies.”

Something inside Rowan snapped. The disbelief, the horror, the sheer helplessness—it all boiled over.

“They don’t want him to just be locked in!” he shouted, his voice shaking the chamber. “And they don’t have any plans to release Finn anytime soon. Because what they really want is something else, Mother!”

“You’re lying!”

“No!” Rowan’s chest heaved as his voice thundered through the chamber. “Mother, you can ask Father yourself! What they want… is blood. The dragon lord’s blood!”

Queen Rhiannon recoiled as if struck, her lips trembling, ready to deny him. “N-no! They said they’d return him!”

Rowan’s fists clenched. “They would, but only if we give them dragon blood.”

Silence crashed between them. The weight of the words left the chamber suffocating.

Everyone knew. That was suicide.

Rowan knew especially well. The dragon lord would never give his blood willingly. And if they dared to take it by force, even if they managed the impossible, unless Kael was killed outright, the retaliation would be devastating. Their family, their house, perhaps even all of Silvara would be torn apart in vengeance.

Rowan’s voice broke as he pleaded. “Mother, you know this in your heart. If we take it by force, the dragon lord would return to haunt us all. Even if we saved Finn, he would not survive long enough to escape the dragon’s wrath!”

Her body trembled, her knuckles whitening around the stuffed toy she still clutched. Tears streamed down her face, clouding her regal poise.

“Then why…” her voice cracked. “Why were you encouraging the human?!”

Rowan’s reply came ragged, raw with anguish. “Because, Mother, if not for this, we could have gotten blood with the dragon lord doing it willingly! Voluntarily! But now… now that it has come to this, we’d be lucky if he doesn’t burn everything to the ground!”

The Queen’s breath hitched. Her face twisted with realization, her fingers clawing at her own skin as the horror of her mistake sank in.

Her gaze fell to the fragile aide inside the cell, bruised, bound, and pale, and the sight tore at what little composure she had left.

But it should be okay.

Queen Rhiannon staggered forward, clutching at Rowan’s arm as though her life depended on it. Her voice cracked, frantic, trembling between desperation and hope. “It should be fine, Rowan. It can be fixed. We can fix it.”

Rowan swallowed hard, forcing himself to steady her weight while his own mind spun in panic.

Fix? How could this possibly be fixed? He struggled to think of solutions, strategies, anything that might undo the disaster unfolding before them.

But then his mother’s next words sliced through his thoughts.

“It’s fine because there is a way to control him. The human. And therefore, the dragon lord.”

Rowan’s breath caught. His eyes widened in horror. “Mother… what did you do?”

Her lips curved into something almost triumphant, as if she had uncovered a brilliant answer instead of something monstrous. “A curse.”

The word rang through Rowan’s skull like a death knell.

His stomach dropped, cold and heavy.

She looked almost radiant as she explained, “I cursed him, Rowan. It wasn’t deadly, not at all. Well, not if he stays obedient. But it binds him. The idea came from the Codex. He requires my mana daily now. It is the best way. Dependency will keep him here. He cannot leave. A-and as for the blood, we can ask for it in return!”

Rowan’s chest constricted. He could hardly breathe. “You cursed him…”

“It’s perfect,” she pressed on, elated now, hands trembling with fervor. “The Dragon Lord cannot kill me; if I die, the human dies; my death will not undo the curse. He would have to protect me. He would have no choice but to keep me alive for his aide’s sake.”

Rowan’s horror grew with every word. His voice shook as he snapped, “Mother… he doesn’t need you functional!”

“He only needs your mana. That is all. You really think he would hesitate to destroy everything if it meant keeping Riley alive? He wouldn’t need any of us!”

His heart thundered in his chest.

In truth, Rowan thought the only thing holding the dragon lord back from incinerating the entire palace was the fragile human still inside with them. If not for Riley, Kael would already have reduced Silvara to ash.

He turned back to his mother, desperate for her to understand, so he didn’t notice the quiet shift behind them.

Because within the cell, one human aide, who had been listening far too closely to his own breathing and heartbeat, was doing his best to keep it together.

He wasn’t sure how sharp elven senses really were, but right now, his ears were pounding like war drums. If he could hear every tiny sound in his body—his pulse, the rasp of air through his lungs—then surely they could, too.

So Riley forced himself to breathe evenly, deliberately, each inhale and exhale measured. He willed his heart to steady. It became both his anchor and his disguise, the only way to keep pretending he was still asleep.

When he had first woken, his stomach nearly dropped through the floor. If he hadn’t regained consciousness right as the two were arguing, he would have given himself away instantly. Worse, he might have wasted time panicking, trying to figure out where he was, and missed the important bits.

Important bits like… the Queen’s child being taken.

A kidnapping.

Except the ransom wasn’t riches, wasn’t land, wasn’t anything that made sense. No, the demand was his boss. Or more precisely, his boss’s blood.

No wonder they’d all gone completely off the rails.

But what really nailed it was realizing the Queen wasn’t just worried about her son. Oh no. She was batshit crazy! Certifiable. And Riley was locked in a front-row seat to the madness.

Because, lo and behold, she had cursed him.

Cursed. Him.

His gut had been right all along. That woman was up to no good.

But how? When? He’d been careful about everything, and it still happened!

Also, a curse… How could he be cursed when he’s supposed to be protected by the sigil?

Shouldn’t it hurt?

But aside from his bruised pride, aching hands, and ears that felt like they had been personally assaulted by every beat, he didn’t feel cursed. Not exactly.

At least, not until the Queen said it.

“No choice.”

Those two words lodged deep, twisting something raw inside him.

Once again, someone had stolen the right to choose from him.

And Riley, who had been pushed, pulled, ordered, shackled, and cursed more times than he cared to count, felt something snap.

He was done.

If they wanted to take his choices away, then fine.

He would just make sure to take theirs, too.

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