This guy...
Was this guy being serious right now?!
"Y-You!"
Riley’s brain, which had been lagging somewhere between absurdity and butterflies, finally caught up. His face flushed so fast that even his ears felt like they were burning.
Admittedly, his poor soul had left his body momentarily after hearing those words.
But even then, who would actually say such things?!
"Kael!" he finally burst out, hands flailing as words tripped over themselves. "Was that supposed to sound sweet?! Where in—"
But the same Kael in question just blinked ever so slowly, utterly unbothered as he interjected.
"No. Probably not. But who knows?" He shrugged.
"Because I don’t think anything about this is remotely sweet."
"!"
"But at the very least, everything about this is true."
Riley froze.
The golden dragon looked at him evenly, tone steady as ever. "You wanted to know what a dragon mate should be like. And so I answered."
"I could have told you a version that left out all the shitty and unpleasant truths. Maybe said words that could have lulled you with comforting lies..."
Kael’s gaze narrowed slightly. "I could have said it would give you power, riches, and whatever worldly thing you could probably want. Because, in essence, that’s true too."
Then he tilted his head slightly. "But would you need that?"
"And when the illusion starts to collapse, would those lies be enough to bury the problems we’d likely encounter?"
Riley swallowed, his throat dry.
It was definitely rhetoric. It was just that Riley didn’t expect this dragon, of all beings, to say something like that.
But maybe he should have—because the more he listened, the more obvious it became that this guy was definitely no ordinary dragon.
"Imagine how much easier it could’ve been if you only knew this much," Kael said casually, his tone far too calm for the words coming out of his mouth.
Then he murmured, his voice low enough that Riley almost missed it, "Then I’d be able to hold on to you and keep you right where I can see you."
The dragon lord’s hand moved, fingers brushing lightly along Riley’s arm as if testing how much space was still allowed between them.
"Then I’d be able to possess you without having to even talk about any of this—"
Riley stiffened, heart pounding so loud it felt almost audible.
"Least of all, I’d save myself from receiving glares and snarls from someone who’s actually afraid of being folded into eighths."
"Because if you didn’t know about how hard it could be, then you wouldn’t look at me like you’re second-guessing yourself."
"More than that, you wouldn’t look at me like you’re thinking of saying no."
Green eyes widened as Riley found himself staring back at those unblinking, and unmistakably golden dragon eyes.
Dragons.
There are several known truths about these ancient and majestic creatures.
They’re prideful, carrying an almost unshakable sense of superiority born from their immense power and lineage.
But at the same time, they’re temperamental and volatile. Because any being forcefully compressed into something smaller, expected to always adjust after thousands of years of existence, would definitely seem volatile to anyone much weaker.
Still, more than those traits—or even the long list of noble qualities often attributed to them—the one thing that stood above all else was this: dragons have always been predators.
Born from the battle between heaven and hell, the primordial dragon—the progenitor of all dragonkind—was created to hunt relentlessly. With instincts to reclaim and protect the lost territories of the gods, they were made to be obsessive. Possessive. Territorial to their very core.
And unlike human babies, who people often claimed were blank slates, dragons had been born with a particular purpose.
It was only after fulfilling that purpose that the gods granted them other gifts.
Like other emotions.
Like mates.
But as anyone could probably tell, such things were merely additions. And in the end, none of those things did anything to take away a dragon’s true nature.
Therefore, for a dragon like Kael, such instincts were as intrinsic as a human’s ability to hear—ingrained, mature, and present right from the start.
So when the dragon lord said, "It’s natural for dragons. Possession. Control. We’re built to guard what’s ours and make sure no one can ever take it away," Riley knew he wasn’t exaggerating.
Just like how he probably meant it when he said, "If I really followed instinct, I’d have locked you somewhere only I could reach you."
A shiver ran down his spine, yet Riley couldn’t bring himself to look away.
"But instead," Kael went on, his voice quiet but sharp, "I’ve chosen to brutally ignore those instincts. Every one of them."
His tone was calm, but his eyes gleamed faintly, gold deepening in hue as if barely holding something back.
"I’ve consciously decided to tell you how unfortunate this could be, how many problems we’d likely face, and even stopped myself from dragging you to the guardians and your parents—just so you could make your own choice."
Riley could only stare, mouth slightly open, heart pounding. His voice came out barely above a whisper. "Why?"
Kael’s answer came without hesitation, as though it were the simplest yet most annoying thing in the world.
"Why? Because by your standards, this is just basic human decency."
"!!!"
A slow blink followed, with one mortal caught somewhere between disbelief and the urge to cry.
The dragon lord continued, his voice now soft but firm. "And because I’m painfully aware of your humanity, I know this is the only way you’d even consider being my mate."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady, almost searching.
"So tell me, Riley," he said quietly. "What should I expect from this? No—what could I possibly expect?"
A pause stretched between them, thick, heavy, almost tangible.
Then Kael smiled faintly, the kind of smile that carried both self-awareness and resignation.
"Because from the moment I woke up and realized I had gone completely insane, I already knew I’d likely end up on my knees just for you."