Chapter 72: The Dragon Lord’s Tremor

No.

Nope!

OH HELL NO!

Just what the hell did twenty taps mean?!

Because Riley was sure that the golden lizard had been tapping at his back with some serious gusto! Just how many times did he tap? Fifteen? Twenty? Was this Morse code for “you’re screwed”? Or was the dragon lord simply enjoying poking holes in his sanity?

And what exactly was he supposed to do?

It had all started when the dragonlings, who had finally calmed down after the mate-selection chaos, were disturbed again—thanks to Seris, who apparently had a death wish.

“Impossible! Why hold a competition when none of you have ever been able to defeat me!” she screeched, her voice sharp enough to peel the enamel off Riley’s teeth.

The other dragonlings flinched, eyes slitting in anger.

Merrin puffed up, outrage spilling from him like bad poetry. “Who do you think you are?! And you’re only here because you forced your way out!”

“Shush it! I’m here to save dragon-kind from this disgrace!” Seris barked, her wings twitching like she might launch into the ceiling. “You should be thanking me instead!”

“How dare you!” Merrin snapped back.

“How dare I?!” Seris’ voice went shrill, and then—then the disaster hit.

She jabbed her finger toward Riley.

Do you really think I am the enemy here?! Shouldn’t you be supporting me when the real enemy is right there?!

Riley froze.

There was momentary silence as he blinked… blinking for basically everyone else in the room who was staring at him with wide, unblinking reptilian eyes. Honestly, he was beginning to suspect dragons didn’t know how blinking worked.

And then, just to make things worse, a low whisper threaded through his ear, disguised under the very same magic Kael had used to shove the flan tray back into storage.

“You’d be forced to compete if the selection pushes through.”

Ah, flying Fudgesicles.

He knew it. He seriously flipping knew it!

Riley whipped his head around to stare at Kael, all but demanding answers with his eyes. Why wasn’t the golden menace doing anything? Why was he sitting there looking like a statue dipped in molten smugness?

Then it hit him. Oh. Elections.

This was probably the dragon version of elections. And once the ritual or tradition started, not even the big shiny dragon lord himself could stop it.

Riley wanted to scream.

Now see, it would’ve been fine to join and lose. In fact, it would be the ideal outcome. Losing gracefully was an art form he had perfected in life. But judging from the murderous glares pointed in his direction, was he so naive to think they’d let him leave alive after that?

And what if someone found out? What if anyone discovered his odd resistance to fire? Would any prospective mate appreciate knowing their supposed boyfriend had given someone a blood sigil?

Or, worse, what would they do once they figure out that Riley and Kael shared sensations?

If people back in school fought tooth and nail over hoodies borrowed and still worn by ex-girlfriends, what more when they realized the true nature of his tie with their Dragon Lord?

Now who wouldn’t be mortified?!

Thankfully, Lord Karion managed to calm himself enough to finally speak. His voice cracked through the chaos like a thunderclap.

“Order!”

The single command silenced the hall.

“This matter will be investigated. There is no ongoing mate selection, nor is there any need for one,” he declared, each word sharp with authority.

“The Dragon Lord is more than capable of finding and keeping his own mate. The dragon population has been as robust as ever.”

The dragonlings looked like they wanted to protest, scales that they couldn’t control were twitching, and their mouths were opening only to snap shut again. Their frustration quivered in the air like a hive of angry bees. Meanwhile, Chancellor Malrik stood unnaturally still, his expression blank. Too blank. The kind of blank that screamed he was desperately trying not to look guilty.

Riley might have bought into the relief of Karion’s words, but then he noticed Seris. Her head was bowed, shoulders trembling, lips moving like she was muttering a curse.

“I don’t believe it,” she murmured, so soft at first it seemed like a hiss escaping.

Then louder.

“I don’t believe it.”

Her voice shook with fury.

Seris wanted to explode. She could not accept this. She could not accept that every single one of them was lying through their teeth. Was she supposed to swallow that the Dragon Lord—this very man with a human perched on his lap—was capable of thinking straight and choosing a proper mate?

Her chest heaved. If she let this chance slip, she would be dragged back to the nest and silenced forever. She would lose her one opportunity.

Obviously, she could not leave empty-handed, especially when she had crawled back into the dragon clan with her own hands, unlike the spoiled ones born and cared for here. So obviously, if no one else dared to call out the mistake before them, then it fell upon her shoulders to correct it. The others were too blind, too corrupted by comfort and cowardice.

Thankfully, she had an advantage.

A dragonling could not be executed or punished as severely as a mature dragon. It was sacred law. A protection born of the nest, and Seris intended to wield it like a blade.

And so she did.

She lifted her face, tears gleaming in her eyes, her voice breaking with the kind of dramatic conviction that belonged on a stage.

“I do not believe it! I do not believe that the Dragon Lord would be fated to a human! When I have long known, in my very heart, that it was me. It was always me!”

Gasps ripped through the hall.

“I dreamed of him. I dreamed of being his mate, of being bound by fate itself, only to be torn away! But when I arrived back here, I felt it again. That profound belonging! It was destiny!”

Her voice shook, her words spilling like a confession, like a prayer.

The entire hall reeled. Dragons stiffened as if struck. To claim such a thing was beyond audacity. It was madness. No one in their right mind would dare voice it aloud in front of the Dragon Lord himself. To link herself to a bond long thought broken, to a mate lost, was like digging her own grave in the middle of the throne room.

Even the walls seemed to press inward, the air trembling under the weight of what she had declared.

Meanwhile, Riley sat frozen.

He wasn’t sure what had just happened, only that the entire room looked as if they had seen the dead rise before their eyes.

The dragons, who had earlier been able to look at the scene, were one by one looking down as if they all wanted to disappear from here.

Worse, his chest ached.

A sharp, twisting pain burned in his heart.

But why? When he didn’t even understand what was wrong.

Or, better yet, was it even his pain?

Because when he risked a glance up, he swore Kael trembled.

And that realization worried Riley more than anything Seris had just screamed.

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