Chapter 162: Proof of Life

When Riley finally woke up, he was lying in the middle of what felt like a giant cloud.

Everything around him gleamed. Bright, hazy shapes glowing softly as though the world itself was made of light. His eyes cracked open a little more, but the brightness only got worse.

“Ugh,” he croaked, squinting.

It’s too bright.

He blinked a few more times, trying to make sense of it. The glowing shapes… were those artifacts? There were so many, glimmering like jewels scattered around him. His pulse quickened.

He grew nervous, suddenly unsure what was happening. It felt as though he’d been frozen and numbed, only for his senses to return as he tried to recall what had happened.

Okay, maybe it was not good to remember what had happened, because the last concrete memory was of him practically dying at the hands of those kidnappers.

“!!!”

Then, as if jolted into reality, Riley remembered that!

Right—he remembered now! He had used every last bit of himself, every drop of strength, and then—nothing.

But if that was true…

How was he still alive?

And more importantly, why did it feel like he had missed something crucial?

He tried to sit up, but immediately realized something was wrong. Something was holding him down tightly.

His first thought—chains.

His entire body trembled as instincts surged up like a nightmare replaying itself.

Panic clawed its way up his spine. It was too familiar, far too familiar.

That feeling of being restrained.

His breath quickened, and his hands twitched, ready to pull himself free.

But then he looked down.

And froze.

There were arms.

Arms wrapped firmly around his waist.

And when he turned his head—slowly, painfully, like a man afraid of what he’d find—he almost screamed.

Golden hair. Flowing. Shining. And attached to it…

“?!?!”

There was a face. A familiar, terrifying, painfully beautiful face pressed against his stomach, arms clinging tightly around his middle as if he were chained in place.

What—what kind of nightmare is this? Riley screamed internally.

He squinted a few times, hoping the vision would disappear, but no. The golden hair shifted. Then came a pair of blazing golden eyes staring up at him with an unreadable expression—somewhere between relief, exhaustion, and something else entirely.

“M-My Lord?” Riley croaked. His voice cracked painfully, like he hadn’t spoken in weeks.

Kael’s expression didn’t change.

“What happened?” Riley rasped, his throat dry and raw.

That single motion made Kael’s entire body tense. The dragon’s pupils shrank to slits, and in an instant, his hands shot out to grab Riley’s wrists.

“No! You can’t!” he barked, his voice louder than the situation demanded.

Riley froze. “???”

In the dragon’s mind, that gesture was practically a curse—because the last time Riley clutched his throat like that, he nearly died.

“Y-You can’t… touch that,” Kael muttered after a pause, his tone lowering.

Kael’s expression was fierce, panicked, and something else that Riley couldn’t decipher. Honestly, all he could think about right now was that he was really, really thirsty.

Riley balked, utterly confused. My Lord, I’m just really thirsty. And hungry.”

The last word came out weakly as he slumped forward, completely spent.

For a heartbeat, Kael just stared, his brain lagging behind the situation. Then, like a spring snapping, the dragon bolted upright so fast Riley thought his vision had glitched.

The next moment, Kael was gone.

“What—?”

Riley barely had time to process what had happened when Kael suddenly appeared again in front of him, looking more menacing than serious. Only this time, he wasn’t alone.

He was holding—no, carrying—Riley’s mother, one arm hooked under her as if she weighed nothing. And somehow, on each of Kael’s legs, clinging for dear life, were two very small beings: one human, one dragonling. Liam and Orien.

“!!!”

Riley stared, blinking rapidly as his brain tried to make sense of it.

Kael’s face twisted somewhere between worry and irritation, his brows furrowed, and his voice was low and curt. “The twig. The twig says he’s hungry.”

There was a long pause.

Everyone blinked.

And as if realizing this wasn’t a hallucination, Riley, who was in the middle of trying to drink water, promptly inhaled instead.

Cough! Cough!

The water went down the wrong pipe. His coughing echoed through the room, and immediately, chaos erupted. Kael, his mother, Liam, and Orien all rushed toward him at once.

“Riley!”

“Auntie!”

“Brother!”

Riley waved one trembling hand, still coughing between breaths. “I-it just went down the wrong pipe!” he wheezed, his eyes watering.

No one looked convinced.

In fact, everyone, including the dragon lord, looked like they were about to collapse.

“Really,” Riley managed between coughs, trying to catch his breath. “Wrong pipe. Not dying.”

And yet, Kael’s hand didn’t leave his back, his golden eyes burning holes into him as if daring him to fall unconscious again.

Riley sighed.

Yep. Definitely awake.

And apparently, surrounded by people who looked two seconds away from a breakdown.

He really, really

needed food.

Thankfully, his stomach growled before anyone could speak.

It wasn’t a modest, quiet sound either. It was loud enough to echo in the room, sharp and unrestrained, followed by an awkward silence. Riley prayed silently, one hand clutching his abdomen, while every pair of eyes around him turned in his direction.

If not for the thunderous growl, he was sure they would have started interrogating him already. He could see it in their faces, the questions piling up behind wide eyes and worried expressions. But now, the sound of his empty stomach had silenced even the most determined interrogators.

“Ah,” he muttered weakly. “Sorry. I think I’m really, really hungry.”

That broke the stillness.

Renee, who had been standing at Kael’s side, immediately turned to the dragon lord. “Lord Dravaryn, is there a kitchen here? Or somewhere I can cook?”

Kael froze for half a second. It was a rare thing, seeing him at a loss for words.

“I can cook something simple,” Renee continued, already glancing around. “Soup, maybe. Something warm and light. But I’ll need ingredients. Are there any?”

Kael’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

In all his panic—his teleporting, his storming, his summoning of people he deemed important—he had completely forgotten one crucial thing.

The ingredients.

He had brought the person who could cook human food. But not the actual food to cook.

Renee, catching the look on his face, sighed softly but with an understanding smile. “No matter, Lord Dravaryn,” she said. “I’ll ask Riley what he wants to eat, and maybe you can come get the ingredients like you came to get us. You were planning to come back for my husband anyway, weren’t you?”

Kael blinked. Ah. Fortunately, there was that.

He gave a curt nod, thankful that she had at least said something he could act on.

But while Renee’s mind was already running through a list of gentle recovery dishes, soups, broths, maybe porridge, her son clearly had very different plans.

“Soup?” Riley’s voice croaked, but his expression turned fierce with determination. “No! I can eat steak, or anything really! Just… something! I’m starving! I think I’m dying!”

Everyone stared.

For a heartbeat, the room fell into stunned silence.

Then Liam’s face broke into a grin. Orien stared in awe. Renee pinched the bridge of her nose but didn’t argue, and even Kael’s overbearing composure cracked just a little.

Anyone else might have found Riley’s passionate outburst irritating.

But to those who had watched him lie unconscious, pale and still for days, his loud, hungry declaration was nothing short of miraculous.

He was awake. He was speaking. He was demanding food.

And somehow, that was the best sound they had heard in a very long time.

Within seconds, the entire group was fired up, Renee listing possible dishes, Kael preparing to teleport again, and even the children volunteering to help.

Riley slumped back against the pillows, exhausted but oddly satisfied.

If this was what it took to get everyone moving, then yes, he would absolutely keep complaining until someone brought him food.

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