Fine?
Ha.
Of all the things the twig could have said, that had to be the most unbelievable one yet.
"For someone allegedly fine," Kael said flatly, his gaze lowering to the trembling hand clutching his arm before shifting to Riley’s pale face, "you sure look like you’re about to cry any minute now."
Riley stiffened.
"And just because you think you’re fine doesn’t mean I am."
"!"
Riley barely had time to blink before the dragon lord moved.
In a heartbeat, Kael closed the distance, pushing him back until his shoulders met the cool mirror behind him. The reflection wavered at the edge of his vision, but what truly sent his pulse racing was the closeness—the warmth radiating from the man before him, and those golden eyes that seemed to see straight through him.
If there was tension in the air, it wasn’t the kind Riley knew how to name.
But to the dragon lord, who had long since stopped trying to understand why he had been so irritated, this wasn’t about logic anymore. His words came out low and sharp, almost like a growl, each syllable edged with exhaustion and anger that sounded too human for someone like him.
"You say that because you didn’t see what happened," he said quietly. "You didn’t see yourself—what you looked like the whole time—and how close you came to dying."
Kael leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing, slitted pupils catching the light as his voice hardened further.
"Barely breathing. Clawing at yourself. Every single day, I had to watch and wait to see if your heart would stop. Do you still think that’s fine?"
Every word hit like a strike.
Riley’s breath hitched. The dragon’s tone carried that familiar authority, the same suffocating weight of someone used to being obeyed, but somehow it felt different.
It was then that the possibly human, highly likely vampire, realized that maybe he was being selfish.
Because right now, even if he wanted to ignore it, the dragon before him looked both furious and yet... worried. At this point, it was hard to reconcile how, just some time ago, the same boss would’ve resurrected him from the dead, all for the sake of pending deliverables.
How could he ignore that?
So before his brain could stop him, the words slipped out softly. "I’m sorry."
Kael’s eyes flickered.
Maybe it was the way his brows furrowed or the way he looked like he was trying to swallow down a snarl, but Riley suddenly felt like he needed to say it again, quieter this time. "I’m really sorry."
For a moment, there was only silence between them.
Then Kael exhaled slowly, the faintest shake of his head following. He leaned closer, voice rough and low. "I can’t accept your apology."
"Huh?"
"Because whatever happens, even if you beg, you’re not allowed to die on me."
Riley’s mouth fell open, his brain short-circuiting.
Before he could even respond, Kael’s arms moved again.
And suddenly, Riley was off the floor.
"Wha—?! Wait—wait, what the hell—?!"
"!!!"
What the hell did his boss even mean by that?!
Did he think he was suicidal?
But the golden lizard didn’t answer. He simply adjusted his grip, hauling the flailing aide up against his chest like a particularly inconvenient sack of flour.
"Hey!"
"Ya! Kael! Put me down!"
The mirror reflected the absurdity of it all—Riley, in his black silk pajamas, hair a mess, being carried away by an unbothered dragon lord.
"Where are you even taking me?! In my pajamas?!" Riley yelled, squirming in protest.
Kael didn’t slow down. "To your parents. And then to the guardians."
Riley stared at him in horror. "What?! No!"
Kael didn’t even blink. "You said you’re fine. Let’s find out how fine you really are."
Riley flailed helplessly, his voice rising before he could stop himself. "I’m not fine! Definitely not fine!"
That did it.
Kael froze mid-step, then, with an alarmed expression, promptly stopped carrying him. In the next instant, the dragon lord’s hands were on him—gripping his shoulders, checking his face, his arms, his pulse—as if searching for visible wounds.
"Wait! What are you doing?!" Riley yelped, trying to push him away.
"Where?!" Kael demanded, his voice sharp.
"Where what?!"
"Where does it hurt?! Dammit!" Kael growled, visibly agitated.
"It’s—it’s not that kind of hurt!" he managed to choke out, realizing far too late that maybe he should’ve chosen better words. Because judging by Kael’s glare, the dragon lord was not exactly thrilled with that vague answer.
Golden eyes narrowed. "Then explain yourself."
"I-I’m scared, alright?!"
The declaration burst out before Riley could stop it.
The dragon lord stared, his expression honestly unreadable.
"Yes!" Riley snapped. "Is that so strange?!"
"Then isn’t it all the more important to find out what’s wrong right away?" Kael countered, visibly frustrated. "You said it yourself—you’re scared. Shouldn’t that be reason enough to fix it?"
"Sir," Riley exhaled sharply, running a trembling hand through his hair, "I don’t know about you dragons, but it’s not the same for us humans."
The dragon frowned. "Meaning?"
"Meaning that for beings like you, there’s always a solution. A way to survive. A way to live for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. Maybe forever! But for us—" Riley’s voice cracked as he gestured helplessly. "For us, one day you can feel fine, and the next, you go for a cough check-up and boom—six months to live."
"What?"
"I’m serious!" Riley said, his tone bordering on hysterical. "And sure, there’s magic. Healing spells. Potions. But even then, there are illnesses that can’t be fixed. Like my father’s."
Kael paused at that pointed statement, but he didn’t interrupt.
"What happens if we confirm I’m sick too?" Riley continued, his voice shaking. "Imagine if my little brother finds out we’re not even sure if I’m better, won’t that just make things worse? It’ll break him. He’s finally starting to be okay again, and then—what? Another sick family member? Another thing to worry about?"
He swallowed hard, his words tumbling faster now. "And it’s not even just that. You didn’t get an answer from them either, did you? So what makes you think I will? If I go, I’ll just be anxious, disappointed, and probably lose more trust in the people I still want to believe in!"
Kael looked torn between confusion and exasperation, but Riley wasn’t done.
"This is exactly why I don’t want to deal with it head-on! Why can’t you understand that?!"
The words echoed off the walls, sharp and raw.
"Sir, I don’t think I’m strong enough to face another massive change right now," Riley admitted, voice trembling. "And I know it’s—"
Beep-beep-beep!
The sudden ring of an alarm cut through the tension like a slap.
Riley was surprised; after so long without hearing that, it was as if his brain stopped functioning at the alarm. "...Is that my phone?"
He turned toward the table, only to freeze when Kael—of all people—pulled a rectangular device out of his pocket.
The hopefully human aide gawked.
The dragon lord didn’t even flinch. With one large hand, he swiped the screen smoothly, long fingers moving with precision as he silenced the alarm.
Riley stared. His mind was a mess of serious questions and unhelpful exclamations.
Wait.
I-is that a phone?
Since when did Kael know how to use a phone? Whose phone was that?
Moreover, which brave soul lent him such a phone?!
But then, out of nowhere, the suddenly techie dragon sighed, looking back at him with that usual mixture of irritation and patience hanging by a thread.
"Strip," he said plainly.
And the exclamations nearly turned into a splutter of blood.